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She stopped twisting her hair. “Is something wrong?”

They exchanged anxious glances, and unease quickened through her again.

“Darling…” Aunt Adélaid drew in a deep breath, “I think it best to let Gideon explain. Now come, we must hurry. Your uncle is impatient this morning.”

Vangie slipped from the bed, and with another wide yawn, pulled off her nightgown. “Did something happen last evening?” She slipped her arms into the filmy chemise Yvette held for her. Her question met with pained silence. “I remember feeling unwell, and Lord Warrick assisting me from the ballroom.”

A pair of embroidered stockings came next. “I cannot recall most of what happened after I swooned.” When Aunt Adélaid made to assist her into the French stays, she shook her head. “Not after last night, Aunt. I cannot breathe properly in that contraption. I’ll wear my short stays.”

Her aunt shrugged, tossing the offending undergarment on the rumpled bed. She retrieved Vangie’s well-worn stays and quickly laced them.

Vangie raised her arms above her, and Yvette’s yellow chintz gown was lowered over her head. “I have a vague memory of a conversation about a tete-a-tete, butI don’t recall the details or individuals involved,” she admitted.

The gown settled around her ankles, and Aunt Adélaid smoothed the mussed ruffles bordering the collar and sleeves.

“Was it someone we know?” After twisting her hair into a simple knot, Vangie tied a sunny ribbon across the crown of her head. She scrunched her brow, deep in thought. She tried to remember the ride home. It was a muddled memory. As were her preparations for bed. “Dash it to ribbons, it’s no use. I cannot remember—not a single thing.”

There was nothing for it then, but to go below and set things straight. How she was to do so with only minimal memory of last evening, she had no idea. What if she’d seen something illicit, and she and Lord Warrick were to be called as witnesses?

Had someone’s honor been sullied?

Had there been a duel?

Good God. Had someone been killed?