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“If that’s all that happens to you after tonight, you’ll be fortunate,” he snarled.

“That deranged harlot broke my nose,” Gowan whined from behind his handkerchief.

Gavin strode across the room and hauled Gowan up to his feet by his lapels. “Call her a harlot one more time, I dare you. I’ve dreamed of this since we were at school together.”

“You know him?” Ina asked.

“He was great friends with my brother at Rugby. He was a bastard then, and obviously not much has changed.”

Mrs. Sullivan cleared her throat. “As much as I would support you thrashing any man who lays a finger on an unwilling woman, Mr. Barrett, there are things of greater concern at hand.”

“I can’t think of one,” he growled.

“Miss Duncan’s reputation is a start,” said Mrs. Sullivan. “Jessa has not been in my employ long and—”

“Ina!”

Mrs. Coleman nearly knocked Mrs. Sullivan over with her wide dress as she too rushed into the room.

“I’m fine, Aunt Jacqueline,” said Ina, trying to smooth her hands over her rumpled, blood-spattered skirts. “Although this gown has seen better days.”

Mrs. Coleman looked at her niece in horror, and it clearly had nothing to do with the state of Miss Duncan’s dress.

“What happened here?” the woman asked.

“A bloody misunderstanding,” said Gowan. But before the man could elaborate, Gavin twisted his shirt collar a little harder, eliciting a strangled gurgle.

“Mr. Barrett, what on earth are you doing?” asked Mrs. Coleman.

“Discussing the finer points of manners with Sir Kier,” he said, glaring at the red-faced man.

“I don’t understand,” said Mrs. Coleman.

“Sir Kier was attempting to . . . to kiss me when Mrs. Sullivan and Gavin found us,” said Ina, drawing her shoulders back as she no doubt prepared herself for the explosion that was sure to follow.

“But why were you with him in the first place?” Mrs. Coleman asked with a gasp.

“I was hoping to see Mrs. Sullivan’s Carriera,” said Ina, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Her what?” her aunt asked.

Mrs. Sullivan pointed at the painting. “My Carriera. Miss Duncan has excellent taste.”

“But why would you leave unaccompanied?” asked Mrs. Coleman, wringing her hands.

“Mrs. Sullivan was occupied and I wished to see the Carriera alone. I thought I could step away for just a moment and no one would notice I was gone.”

Again, guilt slid through Gavin. This was his fault. He hadn’t protected Ina, and now she was in a mess he couldn’t fix.

“Of all the selfish, dangerous things you’ve done,” said Mrs. Coleman.

“I just wanted to see a painting,” said Ina in a whisper. “I was only going to be gone ten minutes.”

“Please say that no one saw her,” said Mrs. Coleman, her eyes pleading with Mrs. Sullivan.

The matchmaker shook her head. “Unfortunately, there was a maid. I don’t know the extent of her loyalty yet as I only just poached her from Mrs. Abercrombie.”

Every face except Kier’s fell at the name of the city’s worst gossip.