She looked stubborn. "You have just told me that you were prevented seeing your daughter for fifteen years. I thought you would have more sympathy."

"Sympathy, yes. But I am not your conspirator against Grenville. You are fond of Grenville; I know you are. Can you not show him that?"

"Heavens, Lacey, I know better than to let on to a gentleman that I like him. They take advantage, you know."

I rose to my feet. "Your ideas on how ladies and gentlemen behave to one another are your own. I cannot agree with them, but I know I cannot change your mind. You may finish the brandy if you like. I must go to Bow Street."

"Consulting with the magistrates again, are you?" Marianne reached for the bottle.

"An errand."

She was too shrewd for me. "If you hire a Runner to watch that your wife does not slip away, you will be as bad as Grenville. He threatened to do the same to me, remember?"

I well recalled the incident. When I had taken the post at the Sudbury School, Marianne had disappeared from Grenville's house, and he'd wanted to take England apart to find her. I had dissuaded him from this action only because I happened to know where Marianne had gone.

"I thought Grenville unwise, but I could not blame him. You tease him and plague him, and I am surprised he does not keep you on a tether."

She made a face at me as I prepared to leave. "Gentlemen always stand together," she said. "Especially those of your class. Rich and poor, if you went to the same school and came from the same sort of family, you band together against the downtrodden."

I shot her an ironic look. "I could never think of you as downtrodden, Marianne. You are the least downtrodden woman I know."

Her answer was to put out her tongue, then I shut the door on her as she raised her goblet again.