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Gwen gaped. The suggestion rocked her. Had he followed her? She had been well removed from the ballroom, beyond the gallery near her father’s study. How would he have found her unless he had followed?

“That does not make sense,” she murmured. “Why would Lord Abbott follow me?”

Octavia straightened her back, fists planted on her narrow hips. From Gwen’s prone position, the maid looked like a colossus preparing for battle. “Because you’re a beautiful young lady! An original. He recognized your worth.”

“That is ridiculous,” Gwen mumbled, pulling the coverlet over her head once more.

“No, it ain’t! Those girls at school were repugnant little arses. You ought not pay them any heed.”

“Not just schoolgirls. Married ladies of the ton, fully grown, who take every opportunity to remind me of my supposed deficiencies.”

Octavia snorted with disdain. “More like married tarts of the ton. And what would they know? Their husbands all keep mistresses while they pretend nothing is amiss. The footmen told me what was going on in the little drawing room down the hall.”

Gwen groaned. “So Lord Abbott will marry me and then discard me once he tires of being proper.”

“Nay!” Octavia flung her arms. “This is different. Lord Abbott was so besotted, he trapped himself into marriage for a taste of your lips. That is love if I ever saw it.”

“Dash it all!” Gwen cursed, clutching her pillow. “That is exactly what people will say. That it is a love match and then laugh like hyenas that Gwen, Gwen the Spotted Giraffe, snared a future viscount.”

A long silence fell. Gwen peered out cautiously to find Octavia stewing.

“I wish you’d stop listening to those women,” the maid finally muttered. “They are not experts on what a gentleman might want. They’re only experts on repeating what their mothers taught them, because they have no minds of their own.”

Gwen gave a bitter twist of her mouth. “They are experts. At getting married.”

“Well, you’re getting married!”

“Because of the scandal! Because Lord Abbott feels honor-bound to do the right thing. If not for that, I would still be a pitiable spinster.”

“You’re no spinster. You’re a young woman of value, and your mama would be proud of you.”

Gwen’s jaw tightened. “She would not be proud that I have trapped a man into marriage.”

Octavia sighed and pushed at Gwen’s hip until she rolled slightly, making room on the bed before plopping down beside her. “Mrs. Smythe would understand. She would say that in a single magical moment, the right man found you. And fate took its course.”

Gwen fell silent again, her thoughts turning inward, saddened and sobered by the ache that came whenever she thought of her absent mother.

Octavia Hanning had tended to the Smythe women for many years and was now practically a member of the family. Through Gwen’s long, often lonely years, Octavia had stood faithfully at her side. Being a young woman of sharp intellect and scholarly bent had rendered Gwen something of an oddity to both the men and women of her class, but Octavia had always been her champion.

“I know not what happened,” Gwen admitted, her voice wistful. “One moment I was simply wishing for someone with whom to share the glory of the heavens, and the next … Lord Abbott was beside me. Then, before I understood what had passed, we embraced … and half the ballroom stumbled upon us.”

Octavia nodded sagely. “I think Lord Abbott is a good man.”

Gwen blinked. “Why do you say that?”

“There is no gossip about him. He finished at Oxford, went on his Grand Tour, and since returning has caroused with his friends, as gentlemen do. But he’s not visited any widows or courtesans, nor danced with any young ladies.”

The vast and intricate network of belowstairs gossip never ceased to astonish Gwen. Octavia often knew more about noble families Gwen had barely encountered.

“And his family?”

“Lord and Lady Moreland have a spotless reputation. No paramours on either side, and all accounts say they are sincerely devoted to one another.”

Gwen nodded thoughtfully, her thoughts turning to the viscount. How would Lord Moreland react upon learning his heir was to wed her?

“And what of his sister? The one who caused a stir in the scandal sheets?”

Octavia gave a grunt. “We’re all a bit muddled over that. The Abbott servants don’t like to talk about their household. Miss Abbott claimed she was with Lord Filminster on the night of the coronation—when he was nearly arrested, mind you—but there’s been no whispers of improper conduct in any house she’s visited. Not much known contact with Lord Filminster either, which makes the suddenness of it all …” She waved her hands together in a lewd gesture, her meaning unmistakable. “They wed within days. And the servants at Ridley House? Tight as a drum. They’ll say nothing.”