Tears swam in her eyes. I rested my hand on hers. "Louisa, I am sorry."

"If the connection were innocent," she said, "why should Aloysius not mention it? Mrs. Harper's husband, it seems, was a major who died at Vitoria. Why not tell me, or ask whether I remembered her?"

Why not, indeed? The evidence and admission were there. And yet, it still seemed unbelievable for Brandon. His sense of moral exactness had always been strong. Or had he simply been moral because he'd never been tempted? It is easy to reject sin when one has no interest in it.

"When he walked away with Mrs. Harper tonight, where did he go?" I asked.

"To an alcove. There were several such niches that opened around the ballroom where the guests could adjourn to talk."

"So he walked into a private alcove alone with Mrs. Harper for everyone in the ballroom to see? The bloody idiot."

"Yes." Lady Aline nodded. "He does not seem to be gifted in the ways of discretion."

Louisa put her hand to her mouth. "Forgive me. Gabriel, I cannot speak of this any longer."

Lady Aline's grim look softened. "You poor darling. You must be put to bed. Captain Lacey can ask his questions in the morning."

Tears slid down Louisa's face and pooled on her lips. I itched to know everything immediately, to run through the streets of London putting everything aright, but I knew that Lady Aline was correct. Louisa was exhausted and upset and needed to rest. I had rarely seen her this wretched.

I silently vowed that when I saw Colonel Brandon, I would make him pay for every one of Louisa's tears.

Chapter Three

Aline signaled me to wait for her as she led Louisa into her bedchamber, so I paced Louisa's feminine sitting room while she and a maid tucked Louisa into bed.