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Olivia almost laughed. If only she knew how complicated that choice had been. She thought of Boulton, of the desperate escape, of James appearing when she needed help most, and of the strange path that had brought her here.

"I do not expect you to believe anything," Olivia replied, lifting her chin. "My marriage is mine, not yours. You need not approve of it, admire it, understand it, or even like it. You need only show the duke’s wife the same courtesy you would expect for yourself."

The silence that followed was considerably more satisfying than Olivia had expected. Lady Eastly lowered her fan, while Lady Prescott stared at her with narrowed eyes.

Viscountess Midton finally smiled. "Well said, Your Grace," she murmured, touching Olivia's arm.

Olivia smiled back, though her heart was pounding.

I've done it. I've stood my ground without shouting, crying, or throwing a glass at anyone, a considerable achievement.

"You must excuse me, ladies," Olivia said, placing her fan delicately against her palm as she summoned what remained of her composure. "I see my aunt, Lady Charnley, has been left unattended, and I must go to her."

She did not wait for permission before turning away, though she could feel Lady Prescott and Lady Eastly watching her retreat. The moment her back was turned, Olivia allowed her smile to disappear. Her cheeks were burning, her heart was beating far too quickly, and the cheerful music of the ballroom suddenly seemed unbearably loud. She had survived their insults, but the effort of appearing unaffected had left her exhausted. If she had remained another minute, she might have said something that would become tomorrow's favorite piece of gossip.

She crossed the ballroom with her head held high, refusing to hurry even though every instinct urged her to escape. The chandeliers seemed brighter than before, the perfume heavier, and the endless murmur of conversation followed her like an invisible cloud. She could almost hear the whispers beginning behind her.

"There goes the southern girl. There is the duchess who had run away to Scotland. There is the woman who has supposedly come north to steal a duke."

Olivia clenched her fan. She had never cared much for society's opinions, but tonight she found herself wishing desperately that Louiza were beside her.

Louiza would have squeezed my hand and whispered something ridiculous into my ear until I laughed.

Instead, she had to face the evening alone.

She finally reached Lady Charnley, who stood near one of the tall windows with a group of older ladies who had apparently decided that the Dowager Countess required little conversation.

"Aunt," Olivia said, curtsying politely. "I hope you are enjoying the evening."

Lady Charnley slowly looked her over from head to toe, raising one sharply arched brow. "I suppose I ought to be impressed," she replied, her gaze settling upon Olivia's gown. "That dress looks very expensive indeed. His Grace must be lavishing you with gifts."

Olivia glanced down at the pale blue silk before returning her gaze to her aunt. "His Grace is very kind indeed," she answered, keeping her tone pleasant despite the barb beneath the words.

Lady Charnley gave a small sniff and adjusted her gloves. "I have heard very little tonight except gossip about you."

Olivia's stomach tightened. "Have you?" Olivia suddenly thought about Felix.

Has our secret been revealed?

"Apparently," Charnley continued, "you came all the way from the south to steal men from Northumberland." Her expression suggested she found the accusation almost amusing.

Olivia forced herself to smile. "Well, people will always talk."

She felt relief flood through her knowing that Felix was not the talk of the night. Her heart would break if he was the target of such wagging tongues.

"Indeed, they will," Charnley replied, leaning slightly closer. "Though I did not tell anyone how the marriage came about, nor did I mention my own part in it."

Olivia's expression softened with genuine gratitude despite everything else. "Thank you for your discretion, Aunt."

Charnley's eyes narrowed. "Do not thank me too warmly, child. I did not do it for you. I did it so people would not speak of me in an ill manner."

"Of course, Aunt," Olivia replied quietly, though she had expected nothing else.

Charnley turned her attention back toward the ballroom as though Olivia's presence were merely an inconvenience. "You have always had a talent for making trouble," she continued. "Your mother was right about that."

Olivia's fingers tightened around her fan. "I see."

"You have been reckless since childhood," Charnley said, ticking off the offenses as though reading from a list. "You were disobedient, stubborn, dramatic, and forever dragging Louiza into your schemes. And now look at you. A duchess and undeserving of it." She said the word with such disdain that it sounded like an accusation. "One would almost think you had planned the entire thing."