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Gwen reflected on this in silence. Either the servants were frightened into silence or the baron and his new wife inspired such loyalty that no gossip could escape.

It was a curious thing to imagine marrying into such a family, one she had never encountered. Lord Abbott himself was still a stranger. A breathtaking stranger with commanding lips, passionate eyes, and a scholar’s mind, but a stranger all the same.

“Do you know,” she asked softly, “why Lord Abbott was at the ball?”

Octavia shook her head, causing little tendrils of her mousy brown hair to escape the knot at her nape. “The footmen are amazed. Dennis said he might have seen Lord Abbott and another gentleman enter with Lord and Lady Hays, but no one knows for certain. There has been no talk of Lord Abbott seeking a bride, so his presence at your father’s ball is the subject of much speculation.”

Gwen frowned, her brows drawing together as she sat upright against the pillows. “And this ball is not even part of the Season. Most families have already gone to their country seats for the summer since the coronation celebrations ended. Papa scheduled it now precisely to save on expenses.”

Octavia clapped her hands together, her grin infectious and bright. “What does it matter how he came to be here? The end result is what counts. You’re finally to wed. You’ll be a beautiful bride, entering into a powerful family. And one of your little ones will inherit the viscountcy one day!”

Gwen’s heart squeezed. A vision rose unbidden in her mind of a small boy with tousled chocolate curls and inquisitive brown eyes, clutching a book of Latin verse as he asked his mama to explain Manilius. A wave of tender yearning stole through her, curling around her spine and nestling somewhere deep in her chest.

Yes, marriage to Lord Abbott might have arisen from scandal, but if it led to children, to love and companionship, to sharing her thirst for knowledge, it could be a blessing in disguise.

She reminded herself of his promise. A real marriage, he had said. His gaze had not wavered when he made that vow. And Octavia’s reports suggested that fidelity was a family trait amongst the Abbotts, which would be more than she had dared to hope for.

Gwen thought of a little boy with chocolate brown hair and bright eyes as she had done the night before, and a wave of yearning threaded through her veins to settle in the region of her heart. This might be a strange beginning to a marriage, but, if nothing else, her desire for children of her own would be fulfilled. Little ones she could teach the wonders of the ancient world to.

It was rather overwhelming to contemplate her sudden change in circumstances. The only issue that nagged at the edges of her consciousness was to mull over why Lord Abbott had been at the ball.

Why had he been on the terrace?

And, why in heaven had he kissed her when no eligible man before him had displayed any inclination to do the same?

There was no denying that Lord Abbott was an enigma.

“He is coming today,” she finally said. “To negotiate the marriage settlements.”

Octavia grinned, revealing a crooked smile. “It’s a wonderful day. Your mama would be overjoyed that you finally found a handsome gentleman of your own.”

Gwen thought about what her mama would say if she were here. She would have been impressed with Lord Abbott’s knowledge of Manilius and Shakespeare, but she would have had questions about his presence at the Smythe ball.

Would Lord Abbott tell her the truth about his presence, and his appearance at her side under the pale light of the celestial bodies above, if she were to pose them to him?

She might be betrothed, but she knew not her distinguished groom.

It seemed unbearably rude to question him about his attendance at the ball after the monumental steps he was taking to protect her reputation in polite society.

What was she to do? Blatantly accuse him of illicitly entering their home as if he were unwelcome? He was certainly higher in stature than the Smythes, so it seemed wrong to inadvertently imply some sort of wrongdoing.

Gwen wished there was a way to get to the bottom of it. To understand why he had been at the ball, and what had made him say those romantic things in the study when he had persuaded her to proceed with the nuptials.

Octavia chose that moment to interrupt her musings with a blissful sigh. “Just think, I’m to attend a future viscountess!”

Gwen huffed in laughter, her friend’s naked ambition pushing all concerns from her mind as she buried her head into Octavia’s bony shoulder and thought about what it would be like to have access to the huge libraries of the Moreland estates.

He had promised her Italy.

Perhaps, if the stars remained aligned, she would see it all. Books, beauty, and a life begun under the pale watch of the moon.

“What have you done?”

Lady Moreland’s wail pierced the refined stillness of the drawing room like a shriek on the battlefield. It was earsplitting. To be fair, Christiana Abbott had once again been called upon to endure the blows of scandal within her family. Only a month past, their daughter Lily had been compromised, entangled in whispers and scrutiny for providing a controversial alibi to her now-husband. And now, here stood Aidan, bearing tidings of a second impropriety. His own.

This was, indeed, a trying Season for the Countess of Moreland.

Hugh Abbott, the viscount himself, quickly rose from his high-backed armchair and went to her side. He perched on the damask-upholstered settee beside his wife and placed an arm, warm and steady, around her shoulders.