After Prince Edward's departure, Lady Warwick was in a state. Royalty had graced her home even if he left without a word to her. She scolded everyone for not telling her sooner, then pressed Evelyn with a litany of questions. The obstinate girl complained of a headache before disappearing into her room. Lady Warwick tried not to let it all vex her. There were calls to be made that morning. Before she even left her front door, she had already crafted several ways she could casually reveal to her friends that a prince had called on her.

Thus, Lady Warwick and her sisters were not at home when Lady Ann Seymour came to call. The Earl, as usual, was not up for visitors, which left Evelyn to greet her.

The first thing Ann noticed was the deep distress in the young woman's haunting dark blue eyes. Then she noted the puffiness around those eyes and the slight tremor to Evelyn's sullen lips. Ann saw, and she shed her formality to wrap comforting arms around Evelyn's shoulders. "You poor child! How pale you look. Are you ill?"

Evelyn's lower lip trembled even as she dropped her gaze to her interlocked fingers. She was too tired, too overwrought to keep up pretences, even with this woman she met but once before. "I beg your pardon, my lady. What must you think of me?"

It was clear that the fragile young woman was on the verge of falling apart. Something terrible has happened here, Ann thought with glee. But, outwardly, she feigned concern and sympathy as she took ahold of Evelyn's hands and pulled her towards a window seat. There they squeezed in next to each other as though they were the dearest of friends. "It's not hard to imagine how difficult things must be for such a pretty, young thing as you."

"Lady Warwick will be home soon," Evelyn said, in an attempt to keep the conversation away from her current troubles. "May I offer you--"

Ann pressed a clean silk handkerchief into Evelyn's hands. "My own Henrietta is a few years younger than you, I think. I see so much of her in your pretty face it tugs on my maternal instincts. So forgive me, but I have to ask, what's the matter?"

Evelyn chewed on the inside of her cheeks as she held Ann's handkerchief in her listless hands. "Thank you, my lady. But I shan't trouble you--."

Ann plucked the handkerchief from Evelyn's fingers to dab at the tears that cascaded down Evelyn's cheeks. "I remember my first season, long ago. It was the single most terrifying moment of my life. I knew no one. I hadn't a single friend to guide or reassure me. And people can be very cruel."

Evelyn was just about to pull away from Ann when the golden clock on the mantel chimed again. That sound took Evelyn back to what Edward said earlier about her aloofness. No doubt her self-preservation made her cold and off-putting. At that moment, though, she felt in desperate need of a friend. And this beautiful, older woman was looking at her with such kind, maternal eyes.

All of Evelyn's emotions played across her face for Lady Ann to see. "Unburden yourself, as much as you wish," Lady Ann urged, her cat-like eyes sparkling. "You can trust me."

Before Evelyn could speak, a lanky footman brought in another tea tray, then went to close all the window shutters as a steady rain had fallen. He stroked the fire in the fireplace a bit, then bowed to the two ladies before he retreated.

Lady Ann poured the tea with serene elegance. She listened to Evelyn's hushed words between measured sips. Beneath her cool exterior, her stomach roiled. The tea and cakes could not quell her nausea. If not for years of practice that kept her elegant facade inert she would have torn this simpering fool of a girl to pieces with her bare hands! Beggars belief that this stupid, insipid thing was to be Lady Davenport! Evelyn's to marry-- Lord Davenport!

"I'm not quite sure how it happened," Evelyn said in a daze. "I don't know. I just don't know--"

Ann's tone was measured and reasonable. "I'm not certain I understand, my dear. There's not a single young woman of marriageable age in this realm and several others who wouldn't trade her soul to marry Lord Davenport. You have met him, haven't you?"

A look passed over Evelyn's face as she said, almost to herself, "He'll blame me for this. I know he will!"

"He frightens you. That I can understand because, well, he's Lord Davenport, isn't he? But he's never been accused of being unreasonable. He shan't blame you. Whyever for?"

Evelyn's pale complexion turned a deep scarlet. "He's— He--!" Before she forgot herself completely, she snapped her lips shut. She saw such sympathy and wisdom on the older woman's serene face, and Evelyn was so tired of carrying this burden alone. But there are certain things one can't confide to the closest of friends, let alone a near stranger, no matter how warm she seemed.

Ann was watching the younger woman's expression as if she could read every thought that transpired. She pressed her shoulder against Evelyn's slumped ones as she dropped her forehead against the young woman's bowed head. "He's forced his attention on you."

Those soft words, so gently spoken, ripped open every one of Evelyn's wounds. The hairs on her head stood on end. She didn't dare breathe out of fear that all her secrets would tumble out of her. "I can't tell her! I can't tell anyone," she admonished herself. So instead, she said, "I can't marry him. Not him. Not anyone!"

"I can't believe that's true. What will you do then? Waste away in some convent? Or will you be a spinster for the rest of your days? Silly girl! You are far too beautiful for such a fate." Then Ann pressed closer to the younger woman to ask, "Do you not find him pleasing to look at, even a little?"

The weight of it all became too much to bear. With an uttered "Oh God! My God!" Evelyn dropped her face into her trembling hands. Such a reaction revealed far more than any words she could have said, Evelyn knew. She steeled herself for Lady Ann's shock and recrimination. She half expected Lady Ann to sweep out of the room in disgust.

But Ann did no such thing. Instead, she topped off Evelyn's teacup with a steady hand as she said, "A young woman's virtue is mere sport to men like Lord Davenport. You are fortunate he's still willing to marry you. Many were not so fortunate."

Evelyn clutched at the gold pendant around her neck. Her sapphire blue eyes widened as she realised Ann's meaning. "He's done this with others?"

Ah, the crucial question! Ann inclined her head to one side in a gesture between a nod and a shake. Rather than answer the fervent question in the younger woman's eyes, she asked one of her own: "Just what exactly has he done?"

What was the use of hiding any of it?

Ann congratulated herself for keeping her composure as she listened to the young woman speak. Then she affected a look of careful contemplation even as her mind raced. "None of that matters now, my dear. He's to be your husband and you'll be his to do with as he pleases. Yet, I must caution you to be on your guard. Yes, he's behaved like a rogue, but there was no true damage. But if you give in to him before you're safely married he'll think less of you. I'm sure you've heard this all before so I shan't be vulgar. Men will do as they like and be praised for it, but you'll bear all the consequences and blame."

Evelyn thought back to the night before. Back at the salon, where so many beautiful and fashionable ladies all vied for Lord Davenport's attention. Later, in that dark carriage-- Those snipes from her jumbled recollection refractured and collided as if filtered through a prism. His lips. His touch. The way his pale eyes pierced through her to melt her resolve. Evelyn clutched her pendant tighter, as though clinging to dear life.

"Some men will tame their wildness once they are married," Ann went on as she observed Evelyn's every look, every gesture. "Yes, some do. Too few, perhaps. If you're worried about his— how should I put this— baser needs, why after a few short years, after children, there will be mistresses aplenty to help ease your burden. And you mustn't allow him to convince you to do things beneath your dignity. Let other, lesser women debase themselves for him."

These well-chosen words did not comfort Evelyn. In fact, it had the very opposite effect as her lips pressed into a hard line. "But — he couldn't! He wouldn't--! He couldn't do that when he vows before God--"

There's the truth, Ann thought with disdain. Despite her protests, the suggestion of Lord Davenport with others revealed Evelyn's true feelings. How Ann wanted to reach out and gouge out Evelyn's limpid eyes. Those beautiful eyes were like a pair of sapphires that taunted Ann.

However, when she reached out her hand, she cupped Evelyn's small, sad face with all the warmth and tenderness of a loving mother. "Of course, we women have more agency than any man could ever know. If you don't wish to marry Lord Davenport, there is nothing that will force you to. You have me now to help you!"