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The words stung, though Honoria knew they were meant kindly. Not her responsibility. Soon, none of them would be.

But they were still hers tonight.

“I have to try.” She squared her shoulders, hoping to infuse herself with confidence.

Lydia studied her face for a moment, then nodded. “Fine, but I’ll go with you.”

Linking arms, they began to make their way through the crowd toward the earl. They had taken only a few steps when Lydia stopped abruptly, her body going rigid.

Honoria leaned closer, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s here.” Lydia’s voice was barely audible as she discreetly pointed toward the refreshment table. There, standing beside an elaborate champagne fountain, was a tall, dark-haired gentleman in evening dress. He wore all black except for a crisp white shirt, an immaculate cravat, and a single red lily tucked into his lapel. His gaze was fixed on the entrance as though waiting for someone.

Viscount Thornton. The man who had broken Lydia’s heart and then discarded her without a second thought.

Honoria felt the tension in her friend’s body and slowly withdrew her arm. “Then you should go to him.”

“I can’t leave you alone,” Lydia protested, though her eyes never left the viscount’s figure.

“We can’t afford to waste time,” Honoria reminded her. “You do what we came here to do. I’ll do what I think is right for the family I am leaving behind. And we shall meet in the carriage once we are done. Do you concur?”

Lydia hesitated, clearly torn. “I can’t leave you alone.”

“I won’t be alone,” Honoria reassured her. “I shall be with the earl. No matter what happens, I trust him. He is an honorable man.”

* * *

“I have arranged the most scandalous harlot for you,” Lucien Drake said, nudging Caldwell with his elbow. “Just like I promised. You will remember tonight forever.”

Caldwell squirmed inside his clothes. Everything was too tight, too hot, too heavy. “Right. Good.”

“Don’t be so tense. You will thank me yet,” Drake said with a grin.

Caldwell didn’t think so. He didn’t feel confident about the entire arrangement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend the night in the arms of an experienced woman—he did. But he didn’t quite know what to expect, how to behave.

He didn’t feel comfortable around strangers. Being naked in front of one, kissing, touching her, felt too intimate. But that was the point of tonight. To step out of his perceived comfort and experience something new. Something pleasant. Something to lose himself in.

But it wasn’t just that.

He had never thought of marrying prior to this year. He was content with his solitary life—aside from the occasional physical need, which he handled on his own. But lately… he’d become weary of spending the nights alone.

Yes, he could have sought a mistress. But that would have required him to socialize with ladies who would welcome his advances. How would one even seek such an arrangement?

It all seemed quite daunting.

Yet the idea of marrying solely to have someone to warm his bed seemed hollow. If he did decide to marry, it would be to a woman he genuinely liked. Wanted. Desired.

But in all his thirty-six years, there was exactly one woman to whom he had felt such strong feelings.

Miss Hart.

He understood, rationally, that it was likely just her constant presence that stirred his desires. She had saved him from drowning in panic when the children came into his life. She’d been his anchor through those turbulent months.

He had never allowed himself to view a servant in a romantic light.

But Honoria was different. She came from landed gentry. She was more than a housekeeper—almost a mistress of the house. The children adored her. She was almost his equal.

Almost.