He’d moved his mistress in and by all accounts had chased her shrieking around his garden. After some time of absence, said son carried said paramour right through the assembled guests and neither were seen again for the rest of the dinner party. Justin grinned. The article in the gazette couldn’t have been written better than if he’d actually drafted it himself. Esmeralda was instrumental in the spreading of the pertinent points from the evening and Penhurst and Dipson had gone straight on to White’s to start bets as to how long it would be before Justin Trentham was a man thrown out of his family. He rather liked the odds and instructed a footman to place a bet in his favor. His last act of defiance would come from the night’s entertainment. There was to be a masque at Vauxhall. They would assemble in an area entered only by the aristocracy but Carmalina would not be questioned. He would dance with her, make sure she was party to the small talk and then when midnight came and it was time to reveal one’s true face, the ton would be shocked to the core to see her stand amongst them.
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