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“No, I wouldn’t miss London,” Helene said stubbornly. “I agree with Rees as far as that goes: the season is a dreadful waste of time. As long as I had both my pianos in the country, I would be completely happy.”

“She’s right,” Gina said. “You were bored in the country, Esme. But the fact that you happily abandoned your Sewing Circle doesn’t mean that Helene would feel the same. For one, I enjoy living on our estate.”

“Be that as it may,” Esme said stubbornly, “it’s always better if a child’s father is his father.”

“Of course that’s true,” Gina admitted.

“And I’m the only one of us who has actually committed adultery,” Esme said. “So I can tell you with some authority that it makes a person feel rather loathsome, after the fact.”

“That may be true,” Helene said, “but bedding Rees makes me feel just as loathsome, I’m sure.”

Gina bit her lip. “You’ll have to give us some details, Helene.” And, when Helene said nothing, “You must, you absolutely must. Otherwise we’ll never be able to decide whether you should return to Rees or look farther afield.”

“Perhaps I should be the one to decide that!” Helene said tartly. But then she gave in. “Bedding simply didn’t work for us,” she said with a faint shrug. “I was disgusted, and he disliked the fact I am so thin. The pain didn’t go away after the first time, the way it is supposed to. In fact, it only really started to fade after several months, and by then it was clear that our marriage was an utter disaster.”

“Oh, poor you,” Gina said, giving her a hug.

“It was very distressing at the time, naturally. But I have come to the conclusion that the bedding process is not for me, and I can’t say that the fact causes me much grief.”

“I’d be inclined to ascribe that to your husband’s ineptitude,” Esme said.

“I agree,” Gina said, nodding.

Helene shrugged again. “It isn’t worth discussion.”

“Poor you,” Gina repeated. “Well, I vote for the Earl of Mayne. Why should Helene be forced to petition her husband for a child? Rees is living with an opera singer, after all. I say that Rees deserves what he gets. And I also think that Helene should not be forced back into a situation that causes her pain and humiliation!”

“That’s all very well,” Esme said stubbornly, “but I still think that Rees, unpleasant though he is in bed—and out, for that matter—is the better option. I simply believe that Helene will feel a good deal more comfortable if her son actually is Earl Godwin, rather than being illegitimate. And if we think ahead, what of your son, Helene? How would he feel if he knew that he was really an illegitimate offspring of the Earl of Mayne, all the time he was carrying the title of Earl Godwin?”

“Perhaps I’ll have a daughter,” Helene pointed out.

“The fact is,” Esme went on, “my little William has inherited the title of Lord Rawlings from Miles although he’s really Sebastian’s child. I don’t feel right about that although I am persuaded that Miles would forgive me, under the circumstances. But it also means that Sebastian’s eldest son won’t inherit his title…it’s all very complicated.”

“I forgot that you were entangled in something of an inheritance mess yourself, Esme,” Gina said.

“Luckily Simon Darby, who would have been Miles’s heir, is so hopelessly rich that he says he doesn’t give a pea about the inheritance or title. I actually think it’s hardest on Sebastian.”

“Miles was a decent, good man,” Gina said. “And so is Sebastian. But Rees isn’t. Oh, I know he’s not a murderer or anything. But I don’t think that he deserves very much consideration, given the way he has treated Helene. He threw her out of her house!”

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Helene said, rather wearily. “The question is moot, for the moment anyway.”

“Have I told you how much I adore your hair?” Gina asked. “Are you using lampblack to darken your eyelashes? Because I am an expert on the subject. The best product is resin. It’s rather hard to find, but you can buy it in Haymarket.”

“I have been using black frankincense,” Helene said, perking up. “How does that compare to resin?”

There was a knock at the door. “An hour has passed, my lady,” Harries announced. He was holding a salver strewn with cards. “Twenty-four persons have called and left their cards; one person just arrived. Shall I announce him?”

“Who is it?” Helene asked.

“The Earl of Mayne.”

“Of course!” Gina said, clapping her hands.

When Harries had closed the door and gone to fetch their caller, Esme added quickly: “I do think that you should continue a flirtation with Mayne, for the moment anyway. Rees obviously responds to competition. Look at last night!”

“What about last night?” Helene said, wondering whether she should put on more lip color.

Gina answered her unspoken question by handing her a small pot of the color she had just put on her own lips. “Why are you beautifying yourself?” Helene said, taking the color. “You are married.”