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would never sacrifice my reputation for her.”
    The color drained from Sir Everett’s face and the man fell to his knees.
    John pitied him. London was full of women who cared for nothing more than a man’s bank balance or his status in society. Men like Lord Ramsgate and Sir Everett were little more than puppets in the hands of such women. “Set your wife aside, sir,” he said, in a voice so low no onebut Sir Everett could bear him. “She’ll break your heart.”
    â€œShe already has,” Sir Everett answered. He lowered his head and began weeping without shame.
    John turned to Titus and ordered him to see Sir Everett home. The butler signaled for a footman. John was now more impatient than ever to leave the party. The smell of burnt powder mixed with that of perfumed bodies and candle wax was beginning to give him a headache. He turned on his heel, ready to suggest to Peterson that they leave—but his words died in his throat.
    He’d forgotten he had an audience. Peterson, Sarah, and all the guests at the party, including Prinny, were starting at him in wide-eyed amazement. Not a man or woman moved.
    It was plump, good-natured Applegate who found his voice first. “You’re married, Craige?”
    John pulled back, suddenly realizing what he’d admitted in a flash of anger. He looked from Applegate to Peterson, who had a dumbfounded expression on his handsome face.
    â€œIs that so remarkable?” John asked, noncommittally.
    It was Prinny who answered. “Remarkable? Astounding!”
    Applegate blinked. “I’ve known you since the moment you came to town—”
    â€œI fought by your side,” Peterson interrupted. “We’ve shared rations, ammunition, women….” His voice trailed off self-consciously as he realized what he’d said.
    Applegate shot Peterson a cross look beforefinishing his own thoughts. “I believed myself your closest friend here in London. Of anyone, I should have known you were married.”
    John frowned. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. He started walking up the hallway. He needed a drink. Something, anything to turn attention away from himself. Prinny and Applegate emerged from the drawing room and followed.
    â€œWho is she?” Prinny asked, keeping pace with John’s long strides. “Do we know her? Know her family?”
    â€œShe lives in the country,” John tossed over his shoulder.
    â€œDoes she ever come to town?” Applegate asked.
    â€œIs it any of your business?” John countered.
    â€œNo, but we’re full of curiosity,” Applegate returned, with his usual good humor. “After all, John, since you inherited the title, you’re considered one of London’s most eligible bachelors. You can’t blame us for our interest.”
    John stopped, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “I never said I was a bachelor, eligible or otherwise.”
    â€œYou’ve never said anything—that’s why we are so surprised,” Prinny said, pointing out the obvious. “Although I must admit in your defense, you have avoided matchmaking mamas. But I never dreamed you did so because you were married .”
    â€œIt’s no wonder then that Craige doesn’t honor another man’s wife,” Sir Everett said in an overloud voice. “He doesn’t even honor his own.”
    John turned and faced his recent opponent. Sir Everett had gotten to his feet and now, apparently, desired to recover some of his lost pride. “Do you wish to repeat yourself, sir?” John asked coldly.
    Sir Everett’s features flushed red, but he stood his ground. “You may have inherited a gentleman’s title, Craige, but everyone knows you are a disgrace. You don’t even pay your gambling debts.”
    John took a step in his direction. “What is that you say, sir?”
    Everett seemed to realize what his intemperate tongue had