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It is useless to waste my breath.

“If that is all...” I murmur, taking a step toward the door.

“Evander,” she interrupts, “I will never again permit such disgusting calamities.”

“You have nothing to fear.”

She takes another step toward me.

“He looks at you the same way.”

“I believe you are confused.”

“He looks at you with the same hungry eyes.”

Bile rises in my throat.

“Enjoy your tea.”

“Call someone if you have needs. But do not dare create a scandal.”

Those words unblock me.

Needs?

“I have no needs.”

“London is full of whores.”

I ignore her words and cross the threshold of the parlor. I start down the corridor and spot them leaning against the wall, Emily and Étienne straighten up immediately. She continues to sob.

“F-forgive me, Viscount... I-it was among the folds of my skirt... it fell... I-I didn’t mean to...”

“Do not bring this kind of thing into the manor ever again.”

She sobs once more, lowering her gaze as I walk past. Étienne follows me at once.

“Is everything alright, Viscount?”

I run a hand through my hair, exhausted and irritated.

“Did you read it too, Étienne?”

“Forgive me, Viscount...”

“It is nothing like what those idiots are recounting.”

He does not respond, he remains with his head bowed.

I turn toward him, my face tense. “Étienne?”

“I know that you cannot stand Lord Vasiliev Ashford.”

I narrow my eyes, continuing to walk toward the Pavilion.

Ridicule.

Nothing happened.