The room reminded me of Louisa. She liked yellow, because she said it brought the sunshine to her and made her feel cheerful even on the gloomiest days. Tonight, the cheerfulness did nothing for me. The cream and yellow striped wallpaper, the white drapes with gold tassels, and the matching gilt and yellow silk chairs and sofa could not chase away the darkness.

I had known Louisa Brandon for twenty years. She'd been a fresh young woman of twenty-two when Brandon had proudly introduced her. I, already married at twenty, had marveled at her forthrightness and good sense, as well as her prettiness. My own wife, Carlotta, had been an ethereal beauty, all gold ringlets and soft white skin. Louisa had a wide smile, a crooked nose, and shrewd gray eyes that noted everything.

I hadn't understood that Carlotta, shy as a mouse, had been intimidated by her, and I had not helped by holding up Louisa as a model for Carlotta to follow. Carlotta, after we'd been married six years, had left me, deserting me for a French officer. I had been furious and blamed her entirely at first, but then I'd shifted the blame to myself. I'd been an appalling husband.

Lady Aline returned through the white and gold door that led to Louisa's bedchamber and closed it behind her. She was shaking her head. A pure white curl came loose from her coiffure and fell to her shoulder.

"She's overset." Aline wiped a tear from her eye, smearing the kohl she'd applied liberally around it. "I am not certain what has horrified her more, the fact that her husband has been arrested for murder or the fact that he betrayed her with another. All gentlemen take mistresses, she said to me, a wife must learn to bear it. What rot. Men fill women's heads with that nonsense so that they can do what they like. Don't you think so, Lacey?"

"I agree," I said.

She gave me a look of surprise. "Well, well. If that is the truth, then you are the most remarkable gentleman I have ever known. Ring for the maid, please. We need more tea."