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Equally unpleasant was the fact that Lady Flora always seemed to knohere he had been He went to Pitt’s quarters in the Inns of Court, and she was ready with a comment about Pitt’s Indian policy He went for a ride with Gill, and that evening she co a bit old for his short pants

"Gill doesn’t wear short pants!" he snapped, wondering if she’d gone entle corow up," she told him "I hear he tries to draw portraits, like a veritable maiden One has to wonder whether he’s even had a woman, if you will excuse the indelicacy"

He did h there was no way to say such a thing He didn’t want an indelicacy from his mother-in-law In fact, he didn’t want to see her ever, not at breakfast, nor at luncheon, nor waiting up when he returned, breathing concern But not curiosity--never curiosity, because she always see

Occasionally she would infores she had made to this or that room

"Did you ask Poppy?" he asked once, when she infors in the east parlor to a rich persi as startled as if he’d e hi as if the ghost of a daughter fled before her

Fletch couldn’t help thinking it was peculiar

It had been h of course he wasn’t really looking for her, because he was establishing--trying to establish--himself in the House of Lords But he had been to every party worth noting and she was never there Yet she was still living with Jemma Or perhaps not No one would tell him

He had received a discreet note fro him of Her Grace’s private account; of course he dispatched a large sum of money immediately One did, when one’s wife left That is, none of his friends’ wives had actually left, but he felt the etiquette of the situation was obvious

The question--the real question--hat he should be doing with hi He was supposed to be indulging himself in the coa na a difference to his country

His wife thought he was si with courtesans And she didn’t care

The thought was searing

Why should Poppy care? She never likedlove to him And now she said she never loved him at all

So why should that bother him?

He was due to luncheon with Fox, at Mrs Armistead’s house And he’d heard rumors of lovely women and intimacies…

It shouldn’t bother him

Chapter 25

The Duke of Villiers’s bedchamber looked like the back of a waterfall to Charlotte: all dim and silvery with just a few candles strewn about In the ray silk eainst the pillows, looking very white and stark His cheekbones were always pronounced; May had once proclaiht it a fair comment But now his skin see, and Charlotte saas painfully thin, his knuckles sharp-cut A rush of pity gripped her

"Please dome a call"