Mrs. Chambers listened to my tale, her lips parting. When I finished, she looked away. "I had not planned to keep it. But when you turned up, saying he'd sent you, I realized how anxious Mr. Summerville was for the walking stick's discreet return. And I understood what that meant."

That Summerville had realized the danger of having the walking stick found in the house of his mistress. The utterly respectable Wrights would never forgive the transgression. Summerville also believed Mrs. Chambers might try to blackmail him with it, which put plainly just how much trust he had in her. And so Mrs. Chambers had decided to act.

I looked into Mrs. Chambers' clear eyes and suddenly wished myself a wealthy man, so I could press money to her palm and tell her to go somewhere, anywhere, to forget about Summerville and pursue her own happiness.

"I am sorry," I said. I truly was sorry. Sorry I'd ever agreed to help Summerville.

"The ton can gossip all they like that he is my protector," she said, "but such talk can be dismissed as gossip." Especially by Summerville, the charmer. "But the stick is proof, isn't it? Proof I can show to his beloved fiancee and her father."

I studied her brittle face, her too-bright eyes. "You love him?"

"Yes. I am afraid that I do."

"He does not deserve you," I said savagely.

She smiled, but the smile was strained. "You are kind, Captain. But it does not matter. I told you this morning that I understand why he must marry. And I do. Marriages should not be made lightly."

"But you do mind."

"Of course I mind! Do you think I have no heart? He must lie in a bed with her and get children on her, and for that I want to gouge her eyes out!" Her rage faded as abruptly as it had come, and she gave a little laugh. "You see, Captain? I am petty and jealous, as is any woman who wants a gentleman."