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More importantly, kissing him was wrong. Yasmin was a lovely person, and while Silvester’s ethical sense seemed to be rather flexible, hers was not. At least, she hoped it wasn’t.

“Be that as it may, Silvester, you are betrothed to Yasmin.” If his voice had been raspy, hers was firm.

“No, I am not.”

“In the eyes of the world, you are. If I might remind you, she is waiting for you to escort her to the charity luncheon.”

He was silent.

“I’m not implying that our kiss requires you to marry me instead of Yasmin,” she added hastily.

“For God’s sake, don’t tell me again how disinterested you are in me.”

Stella scowled right back at him. “If you kissed me merely in order to win that particular argument, I’ll kick you. Hard.”

She thought his bark of laughter surprised both of them.

“Lady Stella, may I enter?”

Stella looked past Silvester’s shoulder and nodded to the groom. Thank goodness Silvester had backed away far enough to register as being in the hallway. “If you would be so kind as to remove the new mouse, Walter.”

Walter was holding a rag, quite likely the same rag he used after last night’s offering appeared on the fireplace hearth. “If you’ll pardon me, my lady, my mistress is quite upset and would like to speak to you.”

“Did Lily—”

“She told the housekeeper, who informed Mrs. Thyme.”

“I’ll allow you to make my goodbyes,” Silvester said. “I wouldn’t want to intrude at such a distressing moment.”

Stella eyed him and then turned to the groom. “Give me that mouse, Walter.”

He had just picked it up by its tail. “My lady?”

“I need to throw it at someone.”

Silvester escaped down the staircase, his laughter not mocking.

It wasn’t brotherly either.

Deserving of a mouse catapult, Stella decided.

Downstairs, she found her aunt sipping a restorative glass of sherry, a handkerchief drenched in so much violet-scented eau de toilette that the drawing room reeked.

“Don’t come near me until you have bathed,” her aunt ordered. “I can smell that dead rodent all the way down the stairs.” She pointed to a chair at a good distance. “I assume that the duke has departed?”

“Oh, yes, he left when it was clear there was no intruder,” Stella said. “He will escort Lady Yasmin to the charity luncheon for orphans.”

“Of course.” Her aunt took another sniff of her handkerchief. “His Grace is such a comfort. If I had a son of my own, I would hope he was just as genial and trustworthy. There’s not a soul in polite society who dislikes him, you know.”

“Yes, I do realize that,” Stella said.

That was because none of them knew who he really was.

“Just look how kind he is to you, a motherless girl who hasn’t had an easy time in your first Season. Not that you aren’t on the verge of making an excellent match. Your mother and father would be very happy with the Earl of Lilford.”

Stella nodded.

“Do you know,” her aunt continued, “I would not be surprised to discover that His Grace visits so often because the earl asked him to keep an eye on you. Make sure you aren’t falling for the wiles of a fortune hunter who merely wants your dowry.”