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Several hours later, Drew climbed the steps of Sheffield’s town house with Peter by his side. They were attending Sheffield’s ball because he knew Kilbride would be looking for him, and he was sending a silent, very public, message – you will not find her .

But there was another reason he was here – he hoped for a glimpse of Mary.

He and Peter had attended several balls since she left, so he might see her, to know she was well, and quieten the screams of his soul. He had not encountered her once. The last time he laid eyes on her was the day she left – the day they had lain together as though they were in love.

That morning still haunted him. He did not understand why she let that happen.

Emotions tore at him as they entered the ballroom. He wanted to plead with her, to persuade her to come back. But if he saw her, he had promised himself he would not speak. She was better off without him.

Peter looked over his shoulder. ‘I do not think she is here.’

‘I doubted it anyway; but it does not stop me wishing.’

Peter’s palm rested on Drew’s shoulder. ‘I told you to write to her. I am sure Marlow would pass it on.’

‘More likely he would burn it, and if he did not Mary would.’

Peter’s hand fell away. ‘You were an ass, my friend. But I still do not understand why you gave the money back.’

‘It seemed wrong to keep it. It was her money.’

‘Not legally.’

‘Who cares about legality? I wish I could give it all back, but I had paid my debts and I need money to support Caro.’

‘Still, I bet it shocked them.’

‘I doubt it. I think my name is a swear word in Pembroke’s house. Regardless, I need to do something with my life. If she wants a divorce I will let her have it, but I will not marry again. I am done with women, and very grateful for the offer of employment. I shall happily bury myself in the country with your horses.’

‘You have an eye for horses and a skill for training them. I am doing myself a favour not you. With you managing the stud, I will have the best racers out there,’ Peter finished as they crossed the threshold into the brilliant light of the ballroom.

He stopped still and looked around the room. Neither Mary nor her parents were there, but her aunts and uncles, the Wiltshires, Bradfords and Barringtons, were in attendance. He had seen them all before, but not Pembroke or Marlow.

The Duke of Arundel glared at Drew.

Drew’s guts twisted. What had Mary told them?

They had hated him before; they must despise him now.

Wiltshire turned his back, in a cutting gesture. The gesture was nothing to a man whose own mother refused to acknowledge his existence.

Speaking of that, she was here too, with the Marquis and Drew’s eldest brother and his wife. They had probably notched his separation up as one of their achievements; by making Mary see how pathetic he was.

‘Kilbride is here,’ Peter said. ‘And so is my sister. Come along, she will tell us about any rumours.’

Even though Wiltshire had turned away, Drew sensed the man’s gaze following him. He was getting used to the sensation of invisible daggers striking his back.

‘Hayley,’ Peter called.

She walked across to them, as they were a little distant from the crowd.

Peter kissed her cheek. ‘What is going on tonight? Is there anything we should know?’

She held out her hand to Drew, he bowed over it. He had known her since their childhood, when he spent his first summer away from the boarding school with Peter’s family.

She smiled as he straightened. ‘You are the gossip, Drew; since that announcement. I believe your wife has left town. Certainly, both the Duke of Pembroke and Lord Marlow have gone. You men, you do like to make us women suffer.’

‘She left me.’ Belligerence burned in Drew’s voice. He had not expected them to announce the separation. ‘I thought their announcement made that clear.’ He schooled his voice, he did not want the world to know how hurt he was.

Hayley’s fan tapped his upper arm. ‘And you are entirely innocent, I suppose. She left you for no reason at all.’

‘None that I can think of.’ His tone turned dry.

Hayley’s gaze passed over his shoulder and her eyes widened. Her fingers clutched his sleeve. ‘Have you some grievance with the Marquis of Kilbride? He is coming this way with a thunderous look on his face.’

‘The jig is up,’ Peter said.

‘Lord Framlington!’ The Marquis of Kilbride’s bellow rang out, his voice booming over the orchestra’s music. The conversations near them ceased.

Drew knew this scene would come, but he thought Kilbride would challenge him in private; he had not expected him to do so at a ball. It never occurred to him it would happen in front of Mary’s kin. This would add fuel to her family’s fire.

Setting a twisted be-damned smile on his lips, Drew faced his fate. Perhaps having this out in public was preferential. In private Kilbride would have brought his thugs and dumped Drew’s broken body in a back alley. He had made a will in case that should happen and left the cottage to Caro, so even if Kilbride killed him, he would not win.

Of course, Mary’s money had bought the cottage, so it should go to her, but he could not leave Caro unprotected.

Drew stiffened his spine, stretching up the two inches he had over his brother-in-law. ‘Is there something you want to say to me?’ he asked Kilbride.

‘You know there is!’ Kilbride bellowed at full pitch, speaking as though he were in the House of Lords.

‘Forgive me, but, no. You have me at a disadvantage…’ Drew let a smirk play on his lips, taking pleasure in watching Kilbride’s anger. Let him hit a man for a change, it would give Drew the chance to hit him back.

‘You have stolen my wife! You incestuous bastard!’ Kilbride’s words echoed around the room and now even the music had stopped.

Drew’s vision tainted red and his hands curled to fists. Lord! That was the last thing he had expected to be accused of.

‘It is no wonder your wife deserted you! She knew you for a wretch! She caught you in bed with my wife! Your sister!’

Drew’s control cracked. He lunged at Kilbride, grabbing his lapel with his left hand and striking with his right fist. He hit bone, probably breaking his brother-in-law’s nose. The noise about him was a vague sound as his fist struck Kilbride’s jaw. Kilbride threw a pathetic punch in return, which Drew dodged.

Someone pulled at his arm, and a voice growled near his ear, ‘If you kill him, you will hang.’ Peter.

The red mist faded as Peter’s words pulled Drew back to his senses.

He thrust Kilbride away so hard, the man fell to the floor and scrabbled around like a fish out of water. ‘I will see you swing for this and I will find her!’ Kilbride spat.

Drew dropped to his haunches and held Kilbride’s arm as though he was going to help him up. Instead, he held him down. ‘Do whatever you want, you will not find her.’

Drew stood then, and yanked Kilbride to his feet. A hundred faces swam about him as Drew let go of Kilbride’s arm. As he turned away women rushed forward to console Kilbride, while the men glared at Drew, and at the front of them, Wiltshire, and beside him Barrington and Bradford.

‘Incestuous!’ Drew heard the outraged word on someone’s lips. One woman spat at him.

His gaze caught on his mother’s. She stood towards the back of the crowd. His brother stood beside her, looking down his nose as though he smelt horse dung.

‘Incestuous…’ The word was repeated.

A wave of sound rippled through the crowd as the gossip spread.

‘For God’s sake, get out of here,’ Peter whispered, his hand pressing on Drew’s back.

Before Drew could move, someone grasped his left arm. ‘You have brought shame on my niece.’ Wiltshire. ‘If this is true, if you have tangled Mary up in this… God help me… I will kill you myself.’

Drew pulled his arm loose.

‘Let us have music!’ Barrington shouted from beyond Wiltshire, gesturing to the orchestra. Bradford was speaking with Kilbride. No doubt Kilbride was pouring poison into his ear.

‘Go back to your dancing!’ Barrington shouted at the observers who hovered.

Drew had been found guilty in Wiltshire’s eyes. Mary would know of this by the morning. But she hated Drew anyway. He shrugged off his anger. ‘Go to hell, Wiltshire,’ he hissed through his teeth then walked away.

Peter followed. ‘Expect to be called out by a dozen men in the morning. I would not go anywhere near White’s for a month or two.’

People looked at Drew as though he really was the devil, before turning their backs.

‘That will do no good,’ Drew answered as they reached the hall. ‘They know where I live.’

‘Then leave London.’ Peter was deadly serious. ‘Go to my country estate now.’

A footman opened the door and they stepped out into the night, before a lynch mob had the chance to form. But Peter was right, Drew’s comeuppance would come tomorrow.

‘They can do what they like.’

‘So now you have a death wish.’

Drew did not answer as they descended the steps. He looked for Peter’s carriage among the line of those waiting. If Mary’s family wanted to have their revenge and challenge him to a duel, he would not fight; he would delope, and fire his shot into the air. If they shot him they would be doing him a favour. He could not imagine living the rest of his life bearing this much inner pain. He had freed Caro. What happened to him did not matter.

Peter’s hand settled on Drew’s shoulder. ‘I am not ready to part with you, my friend. Do not do anything foolish, and tonight I would suggest you get very drunk, and as your best friend I am willing to help you achieve that. Let us find Mark and Harry, they will willingly help you too, and then you are sleeping at my house. No one is going to shoot you. And believe me, I shall be telling everyone tomorrow you are not an incestuous man.’

‘As though they will believe you…’ Drew laughed, but it was a broken sound.