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“I must be getting old,” Rees said, kicking a stick off the path. It hit a mulberry tree that dropped a glossy spray of water over them.

“For Christ’s sake, Rees,” Darby said, examining his shoulders to see whether the water had left stains. “Why we can’t take a civilized promenade around the duck pond, I’ll never know.”

“I like it here. At least we don’t meet any simpering matrons.” They walked on.

“How’s Henrietta?” Rees asked, after a bit. He liked Darby’s wife immensely. In fact, now that he thought about it, his disinclination to knock on Lina’s door had started around the time that Darby found Henrietta. Not that he desired Henrietta for himself, not that. He just wanted…he wanted the fire that burned between Henrietta and Darby.

Sure enough, a smile curled on his friend’s lips. “She is being very cool to me at the moment.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a dandified fool,” Darby said, without any sign of regret. “I wouldn’t pick up Johnney after he’d been sick all over his crib and was wailing.”

Rees gave an involuntary shudder. “Why on earth would she wish you to do such a thing?”

“The nursemaid had her half-day,” Darby explained. “You know Henrietta dislikes allowing the servants to care for the children. So she was bathing the girls and we heard Johnney being sick. So I went to have a look, but of course I didn’t pick him up, not while I was wearing velvet. I was just taking off my coat when she came running in, acting as if a few screams from the lad would be mortal.”

Rees couldn’t think what to say to that. He’d rather slay himself than pick up a child covered with vomit. “Doesn’t Johnney seem to cast up his accounts rather frequently?” he inquired, more to be polite than anything else.

“Too much,” Darby said. “He’s seven months now. He’ll never get married at this rate.”

“Fortunate for him.”

“So have you seen your wife since your near encounter in Madame Rocque’s establishment?”

“No. But I gather I’ll see her tonight.”

“Don’t tell me that you are venturing into polite society?” Darby asked, greatly entertained.

“Lady Hamilton’s ball.”

“Why are you going there? Debutante sort of affair, isn’t it? We’ve declined.”

“Because that wretched friend of Helene’s, the one who married Sebastian Bonnington, wrote me a note and said that my wife intends to go to the ball specifically in order to acquire an heir, and that if I wish to join in the competition, I should make an appearance.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. A chestnut tree dropped cream-colored petals on their hair and Darby didn’t even notice. “What?”

“You heard me. Helene told me she wanted a child, but I had no idea that she would go to such lengths.”

“She told you that she wanted a child? What did you say?”

“I told her that she ought to resign herself to the truth of the matter, which is that our marriage is not going to produce offspring,” Rees said irritably. “It never occurred to me that Helene would decide I had given her carte blanche to put a cuckoo in my nest! This is Helene we’re talking about here. From the way she’s harped at me over the years, you’d think reputation was the most important thing in the world.”

“My God,” Darby said slowly. “She must have a crack in the upper story.”

“She had that years ago.”

“But she’ll be ruined!”

“I can only think that she doesn’t care about her reputation anymore.” Rees kicked a rock across the path. “Perhaps I should have shown her more consideration. I would have divorced her, if she had made a convincing case for it.”

“So you’re going to Lady Hamilton’s ball….” Darby said, clearly still in shock.

“Have to, don’t I? I’ve been thinking about it for two days, ever since I got the note from Esme Bonnington.”

“And that’s an odd thing,” Darby put in. “Why on earth did Esme let you know of Helene’s plans?”

Rees shrugged. “She didn’t explain herself. But I can’t let Helene bed just anyone and make the child into my heir. Tom is my heir, obviously, and while he seems to be rather slow in the marital department, presumably he’ll get around to producing a child at some point.”