I was left alone with Brandon and fewer candles.

He regarded me in complete disgust. "When I allowed my wife to visit you, against my better judgment, I imagined you at least had taken respectable lodgings. Louisa shall not visit you here again."

He stopped, remembering that Louisa had removed herself, at least for now, from his sphere of influence. His eyes chilled. "I will leave you to it."

He marched out, back stiff, with the air of a man who has said all there is to say. I ground my teeth as I watched him descend the stairs, wishing I were more able-bodied so I could fling him out myself. Unscathed, he opened the outer door, strode out, and slammed it behind him.

I withdrew into my rooms and seethed for a moment, then I let out a frustrated growl. I had let Brandon get away without telling me the name of the woman in my bed.

She emerged from my chamber at ten the next morning. I sat at my writing table trying to answer letters, but my thoughts were too full and the pen had long since dropped from my fingers.

She had smoothed her hair with the brush I had placed on the washstand and had washed her face with the warmed water I had fetched from Mrs. Beltan. Her gown was stained and torn from her adventures, but her eyes were clear, the frenzy of the night before gone.

She hesitated in the doorway, regarding me in some embarrassment. The laudanum had done its work and she looked rested, though her face was still too colorless.

I nodded a greeting, keeping my expression neutral. "I have fetched breakfast for you." I gestured to the small table that held a plate of brown-crusted rolls and a fat pot of coffee. I paused. "Mrs. Westin."

At the name, her face went dead white. Her fingers tightened on the door handle, and she stared at me with darkened eyes. "How did you know?"