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horses stand around after they’ve had a good run.”
    They ambled along in the dappled sunshine of the Landover home wood, Hadrian’s gratifying bout of temper cooling as the horses walked along.
    “Avie doesn’t talk about it,” Fenwick said. “Her past is always there, in what she says, what she doesn’t say, when the neighbors talk about her and in their silences.”
    Harold had called Avis retiring. “She’s ostracized?”
    “Of course. She allows it, as do those worthless brothers of hers.”
    Avie’s brother were not worthless. They had very likely left her in peace at the family seat at her own insistence. “She was the victim of a heinous crime. Why on earth would she be castigated for that?”
    “She was engaged to Collins at the time,” Fenwick reminded him. “Some say Collins should not have been run out of the country simply for anticipating the vows. What could be more encouraging to a lusty young man than when a lady accepts his suit? She is regarded by some as a tease, a strumpet, a high-born lady who could not uphold the standards of conduct attendant to her birthright, and so forth.”
    Regarded by
some
was bad. A single dedicated gossip could ruin a woman’s reputation, and “some” could ruin her life. “I had no idea.”
    “How could you? You were too busy ministering to the deserving faithful.”
    While Fenwick was becoming protective of his employer.
    “Harold said nothing of this.” Though, Hadrian hadn’t exactly asked about Avis, had he?
    “Harold is a title, and such an inherently good man, nobody thinks to include him in the gossip. Besides, he’s known to be great friends with the Portmaine family, and his loyalties would not brook slander.”
    “Neither will mine. Does everybody regard Lady Avis in this unkind light?” Had Avis withstood this treatment for
twelve years
?
    “Of course not. Though all it takes is one disdaining look, one little sniffy aside, and Avis retreats, until circumstances compel her to venture forth again.”
    Retreat was all bullies needed to inspire them to greater viciousness. This was true in the churchyard, the schoolyard, and everywhere in between. “Benjamin and Wilhelm tolerate this?”
    “Benjamin and Vim are the highest-ranking title and deepest pockets in the shire, respectively,” Fenwick said patiently. “Nobody would treat her amiss in their presence, and neither one of them will look beneath the surface where their sisters are concerned.”
    “Because their sisters have convinced the entire world they don’t want anybody’s probing.”
    “I can’t speak for the governess. Avis is very clear her brothers are not to worry for her, so they’ve given up trying.”
    Caesar shuffled to a halt. “Good havens, what have I done?”
    “Beat me on my own horse?”
    Yes, handily. “Not that. I’ve coerced Lady Avis into attending services with me this Sunday, and the churchyard is the very last place she’ll be comfortable.”
    Much like Hadrian himself, for different reasons.
    Fenwick drew up at the edge of the deer park and regarded Hadrian in the brilliant morning sunshine. “Why’d you do it?”
    “I thought I’d be doing her a good turn. Getting her off the property, out among the neighbors.”
    “Fair enough.” Fenwick nudged his mount along the fork in the trail that turned toward Blessings. “But then we must ask ourselves, why did Lady Avis agree to go with you?”
    * * *
    Hadrian had seemed so lonely, so alone, holding Avis’s hand in the cool morning sunshine of the portrait gallery, the Portmaine ancestors silently looking on. She should never have agreed to attend services with him, never fallen for his pretty words, or his charming smile, but the idea that she could do something for him—for
him
—had been irresistible.
    He
was irresistible, exactly as he had been twelve years earlier, a handsome youth on the cusp of truly attractive manhood. She’d adored him then, even before Hart Collins had assaulted