Amelia nodded in encouragement. “Go on.”

“This morning, we … argued. In the end, I extracted a promise from him. He agreed to escort me to three social events. I gave him some flummery about wanting to enjoy life again and considering taking a husband, but in truth, I just want to keep Julian out of harm’s way. And I didn’t want to delay, so I told him the first event would be tonight.”

“I see,” said Amelia.

Not yet, she didn’t.

Lily bit her lip. “Here is the lie. I told him you and Spencer were hosting a dinner party.”

“A dinner party? Tonight?” Now Amelia looked to the clock. “Oh, dear. Already half two.”

Lily grabbed her friend’s hands. “I know it’s a tremendous imposition, and here you are in such a delicate state. But believe me—nothing less than the truest fear for Julian’s life would drive me to suggest it. It needn’t be anything too grand, and I’d help you however I could with supplies, kitchen staff …”

“Menus and servants are no problem. I have both in ample supply. But inviting guests, on this short notice …” The corner of Amelia’s mouth twisted. “And then there’s Spencer to contend with. He abhors parties of every sort.”

“Perhaps if you explain to him what’s at stake.”

“Tell him he must host a party to save Julian Bellamy’s hide?” Amelia shook her head. “Forgive me, but I don’t think that argument will work. There’s no love lost between Spencer and Mr. Bellamy.”

Lily’s heart sank. “Is there no way to convince him?”

“Oh, I have my ways of convincing Spencer.” Amelia’s brow made a flirtatious quirk. “But it’s not only him I must worry about, unfortunately.” Her demeanor grew serious, and she drew her chair closer to speak in confidence. “I’m sorry, Lily. I wish I could help you, I truly do. But there are more obstacles here than the late hour and my husband’s reluctance. This isn’t to be repeated, you understand.”

Lily nodded, encouraging her to continue. She focused intently on her friend’s lips. “Slowly, if you please.”

“We’re not alone here in Town. Do you recall last summer, when we were all at Briarbank and my—” Amelia’s head suddenly jerked, as though she were heeding a call from somewhere behind her.

Lily looked over Amelia’s shoulder. A young woman stood in the door. It was Claudia Dumarque, the Duke of Morland’s cousin and ward. Claudia was a rather strange girl—a fractious mix of rebellion and sensitivity—but Lily attributed the awkwardness to her age. She was fifteen, or at least she had been the past summer, when they’d all been together at Amelia’s family home in Gloucestershire. Perhaps the girl had turned sixteen by now. Regardless, she was very young.

And she was pregnant. Hugely so.

Lily’s mouth fell open in shock.

Claudia said something to Amelia as she moved into the room. The loose smocking of her dress billowed and stretched as she walked. Her time of delivery must be fast approaching.

“I didn’t realize you were entertaining a guest,” the girl said, stopping before them. “I was just looking for my …” She paused when her eyes met Lily’s. A self-conscious smile dimpled her cheeks. “Goodness, Lady Lily, I’m not a ghost. I’m only breeding.”

Lily snapped her mouth shut, feeling a blush work up her throat. She’d been staring at the poor girl like something that crawled out from a crack in the plaster.

To Amelia, Claudia said, “You hadn’t told her?”

“Not yet,” Amelia replied. She cast an apologetic glance in Lily’s direction.

At last, Lily recovered herself. “It’s so good to see you, Claudia.” She embraced the girl as best she could around her massive belly, planting a light kiss on her cheek. “I hope you’re well?”

Stupid question. What possible answer could the girl give? Pregnant and unmarried, and sixteen at the most—she could not be feeling entirely well.

“As well as can be expected, I suppose.”

“Will you join us for some tea?” Lily gestured toward the chairs.

“No, thank you. I’m on my way to have a rest. I was looking for my book, but I must have left it upstairs. If you’ll excuse me, Lady Lily.” She nodded in lieu of a curtsy and moved to leave.

“One moment,” Amelia told Lily, extending a hand in the universal gesture for wait.

Lily resumed her seat as Amelia rushed to her young ward’s side. Together they ascended the grand staircase, Claudia with one hand on the railing and the other arm on Amelia’s shoulder.

Tearing her gaze away, Lily busied herself pouring yet more tea. She didn’t want to be caught gawking again.

After a minute, Amelia dropped into the chair opposite. “So,” she said.

“So …?” Lily prompted.

As Amelia began to tell the tale, her strength of emotion was evident. Unfortunately, it also made her speech difficult to follow. Her story was a rapid stream of words, twisting in several directions as it flowed from beginning to end. Though Lily couldn’t catch everything her friend said, she gathered that Claudia had been seduced by one of her tutors. Her pregnancy was to blame for her strange behavior at Briarbank that summer, it seemed. The poor girl had hidden her condition from everyone.

At last, Amelia’s words slowed. “We are in Town to be close to specialists, but not for me. My own pregnancy has gone easily, but Claudia has had episodes of bleeding and pain. At least here we’re closer to the best physicians.”

“My goodness,” Lily said, trying to absorb it all. “What a difficult situation.”

“Claudia is confined to the house. We’ve kept the pregnancy secret for now. It only seems the prudent thing, since we’re still uncertain whether she’ll keep the child.”

Lily briefly wondered whether Amelia referred to the option of fostering the baby with another family, or the possibility of a stillbirth. Both, she supposed. “I thought you said you’re not often recruited into clandestine schemes.”

Amelia shrugged. “It has been occurring with more frequency of late. Poor Spencer was going mad with worry in Cambridgeshire, but the stables were always his refuge. Now he’s away from all that, trapped in a London house with two breeding women, one of whom is ill … It’s understandably trying. So you see, a dinner party may not be the best idea.”

“Of course. I see.”

“You’re disappointed.” Amelia laced her hands together and squeezed.

“No, not at all,” Lily lied brightly. “It was only an idea, and a flawed one at that. We’ll do it another time. I’ll just send Julian a note to tell him tonight’s dinner is canceled.”

And hope he doesn’t turn up dead by morning.

She shut her eyes, and red dots swam behind her eyelids. The same bright crimson shade as his blood.

When Amelia leaned closer and put a comforting hand on her arm, Lily couldn’t help it. The tears welled in her eyes and overflowed. Soon she was sobbing on Amelia’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so worried for him. This morning the costermonger delivered him to our doorstep before dawn. He’d collapsed on the street, and he was bleeding, and for a moment …”

All the fears she’d battled in those predawn hours came rushing back, assailing her with double force. This time, she let herself feel them, surrendering to the comfort of her friend’s embrace as the tears fell.

Once she’d mastered her emotion, Lily said, “For a moment, I was so certain he was dead. Just like Leo.”

Amelia pulled back. Her own eyes were moist with sympathy as she offered a handkerchief. “You poor dear. Is he well now? Mr. Bellamy, I mean.”

“Yes.” Lily wiped her eyes with the square of linen. “It was only a small injury, sustained when the crowd panicked at a boxing match. He won’t stop attending the things, you know. Wherever there’s fighting—man or beast—he goes there, hoping to find Leo’s killers. But I fear he’s just going to get himself killed. It’s been five months now. I don’t understand why he can’t let it go.”

“He feels responsible. That’s what he told us that night. He was supposed to be with Leo, and he thinks he could have prevented the murder if he’d been there.”

Lily sniffed. “Does he think he has some exclusive claim on regret? Doesn’t he realize I’ve felt the same guilt, every day since Leo died? If only I’d asked him to stay home, I tell myself. If only I’d insisted he take the family carriage instead of a hack. If only I’d been with him that night. Never mind that I’m a woman and a slightly built one at that. If I’d been in that alleyway with Leo, I would have fought those men with everything I had. Strength, fury, nails, teeth. I would have done anything in my power to save my brother’s life, even if it meant giving my own.”

A little sob escaped her, and Amelia clasped her wrist.

“And now,” Lily went on, “it’s like I’m watching Julian wander into that same alleyway that claimed Leo’s life. The only difference is, it’s all happening at a slower pace. I’m forced to watch from a distance, standing helplessly by as each step brings him closer and closer to danger. No matter how I call out to him, he doesn’t respond. Then this morning …”

Then this morning had changed everything. She’d held his senseless body in his arms, felt his blood on her fingertips. Atop it all, that desperate kiss … It made the danger so real. She refused to stand by and watch Julian stumble toward his own doom. This time, she would fight.

In her lap, her hands curled into fists. “Before Leo died, Julian lived to amuse and be amused. He loved balls, the theater, his friends, and his clubs. Somehow I have to force him back into that world, so he’ll remember what he’s been missing. Since the dinner party won’t work tonight—”

“Wait,” Amelia said, her chin firming. “The dinner party will work. We’ll make it work.”

“Truly?” Her heart leapt. “But what about the duke? What about Claudia?”

“Leave everything to me. Claudia will remain upstairs. Though I warn you, the menu will be simple, and I can’t promise Spencer will be the most gracious of hosts.”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s probably for the best if he and Julian stay in separate rooms, anyhow.” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

“It’s my pleasure, truly. I love to give parties but have little opportunity. What about other guests? Is there anyone you’d like me to invite?”

Lily paused. “I know this may be difficult at such short notice,” she said, “but do you by any chance know where we might find a sizable group of eligible bachelors?”

“What’s this?” Amelia broke into laughter. “You do realize you’re talking to a woman who was, as recently as five months ago, a confirmed spinster with no suitors at all?”

“It’s just that I promised Julian. If he would be my escort to social events, I told him I’d consider marrying. I have no real intention of marrying at all, and no desire to inspire the hopes or attentions of gentlemen I actually … Oh, this is sounding horrible, isn’t it?”

“Rather.” Amelia’s eyes widened with amusement. “Let me be certain I understand. You’d like me to find some warm male bodies to fill chairs at the dinner table. All of these men must be presentable and feasibly marriageable, yet hungry or lonely enough to show up for dinner on a few hours’ notice?”

“Well …” Lily shrugged. “Yes?”