Minx

"Of course not."

"The lease isn't up on her house for a few months. That ought to give her time enough to find another protector."

"I was thinking about offering myself for that role."

That earned a chuckle from Dunford.

"I've had my eye on her for a few months now. Just been waiting until you tired of her."

"I was planning to meet with her Friday evening at midnight, to tell her I'm getting married, although she's bound to have heard already. I'll put in a good word for you."

Billington smiled as he took a sip of the drink he'd been holding in his hand. "You do that."

"I must confess, I'm glad you've taken an interest in her. She's a nice woman. I shouldn't like to think of her set adrift."

"Good." Billington slapped Dunford on the back.

"I'd best be getting back to the party. One never knows when a debutante with a brain might show up. I'll talk to you next week, after you've had a chance to deal with Christine."

Dunford nodded and watched Billington stride back across the terrace. After a few moments he did the same.

Sarah-Jane's lips curved into a smile as she pondered what she had just overheard and what use she could make of the tidbit. She wasn't exactly certain what it was about Miss Henrietta Barrett that so rankled her, but rankle she did. Perhaps it was simply the fact that Dunford was quite obviously besotted with the girl when she, Sarah-Jane, had been angling after him for nearly a year. And little Miss Henry obviously felt the same way. Every time she looked at the chit, she was looking at Dunford as if he were a god.

Sarah-Jane supposed that was what irritated her most about the girl—she was so damned innocent and unaffected, rather like Sarah-Jane had been at that age, before her parents married her off to Lord Wolcott, a notorious lecher three times her age. Sarah-Jane had consoled herself with a string of affairs, mostly with married men. Henry was going to be in for a rude awakening when she realized that married men did not remain faithful to their wives for very long.

Her head snapped up. Why not teach Henry that little lesson early? It wasn't as if she were doing anything evil, Sarah-Jane rationalized. Henry was going to have to learn the sad truth about ton marriages sooner or later. And perhaps sooner was better. Approached from that angle, it was obvious that she was actually doing Henry a favor. Better that the chit enter her marriage with open eyes than become horribly disillusioned a few months later.

Sarah-Jane was smiling as she made her way back to the party.

Henry tried hard not to crane her neck as she scanned the crowds for Dunford. Where on earth had the man gone? She had spent the last half hour answering questions about their upcoming nuptials and thought it was high time he did his fair share.

"May I congratulate you on your upcoming marriage?"

Henry sighed and turned to the latest well-wisher, then opened her eyes a little wider when she saw it was Sarah-Jane Wolcott. "Lady Wolcott," she said, unable to keep a touch of frost from her voice. The lady had, after all, practically thrown herself on Dunford the last time they had met. "What a surprise."

"Why a surprise?" Sarah-Jane replied with a tilt of her head. "Surely you do not think I would begrudge another lady the happiness of wedded bliss."

Henry wanted to tell her she had no idea what she would or would not do, but mindful of the curious eyes and ears around her, she merely smiled and said, "Thank you."

"I assure you, I have nothing but the fondest wishes for you and your fiancé."

"I believe you," Henry said through clenched teeth, wishing that the other lady would just disappear.

"Good, but I would like to give you a bit of advice. From one woman to another, of course."

Henry did not have a good feeling about this. "That is very kind of you, Lady Wolcott, but Lady Worth, Lady Blackwood, and the Duchess of Ashbourne have all been most kind in giving me all sorts of necessary advice as pertains to the married state."

"That is very good of them, I am sure. I would expect no less from such gracious ladies."

Henry swallowed down the bad taste in her mouth and refrained from saying that the three ladies in question did not view Lady Wolcott with equal admiration.

"The advice I have for you," Sarah-Jane continued with an affected twist of her wrist, "is something no one else could tell you."

Pasting a bright, unnatural smile on her face, Henry leaned forward and said, "I am breathless with anticipation."

"Of course you are," Sarah-Jane murmured. "But here, let us step back from the crowds for a moment. What I have to say is for your ears alone."

Eager now to do anything to get rid of the woman, Henry obligingly took a few paces back.

"Please believe that I would do nothing to hurt you," Sarah-Jane said in a low voice, "and I tell you this only because I do not believe that any woman should enter into marriage without her eyes widely opened. I was not given that privilege."

"What is it, Lady Wolcott?" Henry ground out.

"My dear, I just thought you should know that Dunford has a mistress."

Chapter 20

"Is that all, Lady Wolcott?" Henry said frigidly.

Sarah-Jane did not have to feign surprise. "Then you already knew. You must be an exceptional young woman to dote on him so when there is another woman in his life."

"I do not believe you, Lady Wolcott. I think you are malicious in the extreme. Now, if you will excuse me—"

Sarah-Jane caught hold of Henry's sleeve before she could make her escape. "I can understand your reluctance to accept that what I say is true. You probably fancy yourself in love with him."