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with a society that has so completely left me to fend for myself.” She said this simply, without bitterness or rancor. “Well, I am doing just that: taking care of myself through the only means available. And society seems to care little, so long as I am discreet.”
    “But there are rules — right and wrong — societal dictates to be followed lest chaos ensue — ”
    “Oh? But even you, Mr. Camden, do not always follow said dictates. Come now, don’t look so shocked at the suggestion. That night we first met, when you came to my aid, you know you had no right to interfere in a domestic spat between a man and a woman, whether it’s his wife or mistress.”
    “But that was different! I was drunk, and you were struggling, trying to get away.” Camden stepped toward her. They were only a few inches away from each other now. “I know Ashe and what type of man he is; I couldn’t have very well left you.”
    “But that is exactly what society says you should have done. So you see, Mr. Camden, we all do what we think we should, what we are compelled to do, what circumstances demand we
must
do.” Del took a step back, his nearness as unsettling as his questions. He looked at her so earnestly, as if he genuinely cared what she had to say for herself, as if he really wanted to help. It confused and distressed her.
    He looked at her so intently, his soft brown eyes locked on hers. She wondered what he must think of her now that he knew for certain what she was, what she did. Then she wondered why should she care, when no one’s opinion had mattered to her before. Why now? Why this man? Del slid her gaze from his and focused on the longcase clock ticking in the corner. She had hoped breaking eye contact would also break the strange, breathless hold he seemed to have on her, but she could still sense his gaze upon her, feel his body next to hers. Suddenly, Del wanted — needed — to get away. Away from the party and its noise and boisterousness. Away from the leering gazes of drunken men. And most importantly, away from the disconcertingly concerned and generous Mr. Camden.
    “Forgive me, I — I was just leaving and I — ” Del turned her gaze back to Camden, but she kept it hovering in the vicinity of his chin. She couldn’t bear to see disbelief and worry and disapproval mingling in his eyes, and she cursed herself for her cowardice. Many years ago, when she decided to take charge of her own fate, she had promised herself she was done with cowering, with evading and disassembling in an attempt to apologize for who she was and the fact that her existence placed such a burden on her long-suffering relatives. She had vowed to look away from no man, and yet here she was, standing in a foyer listening to the gonging of a clock and the slightly hitched breathing of a young stranger, and she could not meet his eye.
    Del moved toward the door, her gloves still off and her pelisse draped over her arm. Camden’s hand was suddenly on her elbow, causing Del to freeze as she sucked in her breath. She had been touched by dozens of men, in manners far more familiar and salacious, and yet
this
touch, by
this
man, was far too intimate.
    “Mr. Camden, please — ” Del forced herself to look him in the eye. “I really must be leaving.”
    Camden looked at her, his brows furrowed, and Del knew he wanted to say more to her, that he struggled with whether to give voice to any affirmation or reproach that might be swirling in his head, or whether to remain silent and let her leave. Del decided to make the choice for him. She wrested her arm from his hand and was out the door before Camden had a chance to react.

Chapter Four
    “Blakely came to see me, you know,” Jane said as she linked her arm with Del’s.
    Del stumbled just then, though surely it was on a bit of loose gravel on the path and not because of Jane’s words. Jane’s arm stiffened as she helped to steady Del, but she continued walking without comment.
    “Oh?”