Chapter 20: Eleven Times

The Dowager's cane tapped twice on the floor, and Kitty was gone from the pianoforte before I saw her move.

"Child," Ottoline had said, in a voice like a closing door, "go and bring the Chairman a glass of lemonade."

Kitty went with her notebook and a face of perfect innocence, straight toward the second window.

I let go of my husband's hand.

I walked across the floor of the drawing room, and the crowd opened in front of me.

I stepped up onto the dais beside my uncle, and I took the empty glass out of his hand and set it on a tray.

"Uncle," I said.

"That was beautifully spoken.

"I wonder whether I might have the floor for two minutes, since the evening concerns me."

He smiled.

"Of course, my dear. Say whatever you need to."

I turned to face the room.

Two hundred faces looked up at me, some of them pitying, and a number of them glad.

"My uncle is very concerned about me," I said.

"I should like to put his mind at rest, and yours.

"The Duke of Tarrant and I have been married forty days.

"We have lain together a dozen times."

There was a gasp, and then a pause.

"I count generously," I said. "I do not count mornings.

"I am happy to give the dates."

Somebody laughed out loud.

It was a man at the back, and then a woman near the pianoforte, and then the sound spread, rippling.

"A lady would never," said my uncle, through his teeth.

"A lady," I said, "has been informed by the gentlemen of White's that her marriage is the subject of a wager.

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