“The lovely Miss Lyndon”, Robert said firmly, “is now Lady Macclesfield”.

“Of course,” Mrs. Brightbill replied. “Now then, as I was saying, it is imperative that you introduce her to society as soon as you can”.

Victoria felt her stomach grow queasy. It was one thing to win over the hearts of Robert's servants. His peers were another matter altogether.

“The season is nearing its end”, Robert said. “I see no reason why we cannot wait until next year”.

“Next year!” Mrs. Brightbill screeched—and she knew how to screech better than most. “Are you mad?”

“I shall introduce Victoria to my closer friends at dinner parties and the like, but I see no reason to subject her to an odious ton ball when all we really want is a bit of privacy”.

Victoria found herself fervently hoping that Robert won his point.

“Nonsense”, Mrs. Brightbill said dismissively. “The entire world knows that you are in London now. To hide her would be to give the impression that you are ashamed of your new wife, that perhaps you had to marry her”.

Robert bristled with anger. “You know that is not the case”

“Yes, of course. I know it, and Harriet knows it, but we are only two of many”.

“Perhaps”, Robert said smoothly, “but I have always held your ability to disseminate information in the highest of esteem”.

“He means she talks a lot”, Harriet said to Victoria.

“I know what he means”, Victoria shot back, and then was immediately ashamed of herself because she'd just called her new aunt a gossip.

Harriet caught Victoria's embarrassed expression and said, “Oh, don't worry yourself over that. Even Mother knows she's the worst sort of gossip”.

Victoria bit back a smile and turned to the sparring match that was taking place on the other side of the table.

“Robert”, Mrs. Brightbill was saying, one hand splayed dramatically over her heart, “even I am not that efficient. You will have to introduce your new wife to society before the season is out. This is not my opinion. It is fact”.

Robert sighed and looked over at Victoria. She tried very hard to keep the terror out of her eyes, and she feared that she must have succeeded, for he let out another sigh—this one infinitely more weary—and said, “Very well, Aunt Brightbill. We will make one appearance. But just one, mind you. We are still newly wed”.

“This is so romantic”, Harriet whispered, fanning herself with her hand.

Victoria grabbed her cup of chocolate and lifted it to her mouth in an attempt to hide the fact that she absolutely could not manage to pull her lips into a smile. But this action only served to show how badly her hands were shaking, so she set the cup back down and looked at her lap.

“Naturally”, Mrs. Brightbill said, “I shall have to take Victoria shopping for a new wardrobe. She will need the guidance of one who is familiar with the ways of society”.

“Mother!” Harriet interjected. “I am certain that Cousin Victoria will be more than able to choose her own wardrobe. After all, she worked for many weeks at Madame Lambert's the most exclusive dressmaker in London”.

“Euf!” Mrs. Brightbill said by way of reply. “Do not remind me. We shall have to do our best to hide that little episode”.

“I am not ashamed of my work”, Victoria said quietly. And she wasn't. Of course this didn't mean she wasn't terrified of Robert's social peers.

“And you shouldn't be,” Mrs. Brightbill said. “There is nothing wrong with a hard day's work. We just needn't speak of it”.

“I do not see how it would be possible to avoid it,” Victoria pointed out. “I assisted a great many ladies at the shop. Madame always liked to have me out in front because my accent is gentle. Someone is bound to recognize me”.

Mrs. Brightbill let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, it will be unavoidable. What am I to do? How to avoid a scandal?”

Robert, who was clearly feeling somewhat henpecked, turned back to his breakfast and ate a bite of his omelet. “I am certain you are up to the task, Aunt Brightbill”.

Harriet cleared her throat and said, “Surely everyone will understand once they realize what a romantic past Robert and Victoria have”. She sighed. “Young lovers, separated by a cruel father—even the best of my French novels cannot compare”.

“I do not intend to drag the marquess's name through the gutter”, Mrs. Brightbill said.

“Better his name than Victoria's,” Robert put in caustically. “He is more to blame for our separation than we are”.

“We are all equally to blame”, Victoria said firmly. “As is my own father”.

“It matters not who is to blame”, Mrs. Brightbill stated. “I am only interested in minimizing the damage. I do think that Harriet has the right idea of it”.

Harriet beamed.

“Just inform me where I have to be and when”, Robert said with a bored expression.

“You can be sure I shall also tell you what to say”, Mrs. Brightbill returned. “As for particulars, I believe that the Lindworthy bash tomorrow evening shall suit our purposes”.

“Tomorrow?” Victoria mouthed, her stomach suddenly feeling so fluttery that she couldn't manage to make her voice work properly.

“Yes,” Mrs. Brightbill replied. “Everyone will be there. Including my dear, dear, dear Basil.”

Victoria blinked. “Who is Basil?”

“My brother,” Harriet replied. “He's not often in London.”