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“I’ll need to change,” she added, wryly indicating her underthings. “I suppose I shall see you later, Stephen.”

She left the room, padding on silent feet, and Stephen was left in the oppressive quiet.

He still could not think of what to say.

“Ah, Stephen, there you are.”

Stephen blanched at the sight of his mother poking her head out of one of the morning rooms near the observatory entrance.

“Mother! I… how long have you been in the house?”

Theodosia blinked. “What? Oh, I’ve only just arrived. I came straight here. I have to talk to you. Come in here—quick.”

“Should I fetch Beatrice? I… she’s in the house, I think.”

Stephen was stammering and stuttering, horrified at coming face-to-face with his mother so soon after an intimate encounter. Did she see Beatrice heading to her room, dizzy and satisfied, with balled-up underthings in her hand?

“No, I don’t want Beatrice to hear this,” Theodosia said firmly, ushering her son into the room.

Stephen relaxed a little. His mother was not scandalized, at least.

“What’s the matter?”

Theodosia paused, hesitating. “Well, I suppose you might know I’ve been spending time with a gentleman friend of mine.”

“Gentleman friend?”

“Yes, yes, a gentleman friend, keep up. I mentioned him to Beatrice—she knows.”

“Beatriceknows? And not me?”

“Well, perhaps if you spent a little more time with me, you would have known. But that is not the point. He is Mr. Harvey Harris and owns a great many newspapers. He came to visit me today to warn me about something.”

The hairs on the back of Stephen’s neck prickled. “Oh?”

Theodosia drew in a breath. “The Marquess of Hampton is back in London. What is more, he has been approaching editors of various scandal sheets and newspapers. Approaching them in secret, no less.”

Stephen lowered himself into an armchair, his fingers curling around the armrests.

“The wretched man,” he muttered. “I warned him to stay away from me. What is he thinking, coming back so soon? Did this… friend of yours tell you what he wanted from the editors?”

She shook her head. “He hoped that the Marquess would approachhimfor a meeting so that he could hear him out and come back to me with some information. It concerns you and Beatrice, so of course Harvey knows that I would be interested. But the Marquess has not approached Harvey, so I can only assume he has gotten wind of our friendship.”

“Wait, do you mean that others know about… Ahem, it doesn’t matter.”

Stephen leaned back in his seat. The languid, happy feelings of lovemaking had faded away, replaced by the usual tension in his frame. He wanted Beatrice, but not for anything intimate. He just wanted her to be there, with him, holding his hand or perhaps resting her hand on his shoulder, ready with her advice and her cool, clear logic.

Stop it. Only a few hours ago, you were telling Theo that more distance was required between the two of you. Is this distance? No, I think not.

“He’s here to get his revenge on me, of course,” Stephen muttered. “And on Beatrice. I humiliated him and destroyed his reputation, but I can guarantee that he blames Beatrice for it, too. I don’t know what he plans, but if he has been approaching newspaper editors, it cannot be good.”

Theodosia nodded. “I’m concerned, Stephen. Beatrice pretends not to care about what those scandal sheets write about her, but I know it’s just pretense. Which of us could stay firm and unconcerned with so much cruelty thrown our way? I worry that the humiliation will be too much for her.”

Stephen glanced sharply at his mother. “The humiliation I brought on her, you mean.”

His mother pressed her lips together. “You said that, Stephen. Not me.”

There was a moment of tension between them.