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understand,” Harriet said. She lifted her chin. “I had an affaire with Vil iers.”
    Jemma sat bolt upright. “ You had an affaire ?”
    It was such a relief to tel someone that the words tumbled out. “It was two years ago, at a bal given by the Duchess of Claverstil , about a month before Benjamin died. Benjamin was playing chess al night. Every bal has a chess room now. It’s so tiresome. Some nights there aren’t any partners for dancing. At any rate, Vil iers came out of the chess room and, somehow, he found me.”
    “What is he like? I don’t know much about him, other than that he was a boyhood friend of Beaumont’s and they had some sort of fal ing out.”
    “I hate him,” Harriet said, her voice shaking.
    “Because you spent the night with him?” To Harriet’s relief, Jemma had lost her air of froideur . She poured more tea for both of them.
    “Because—he didn’t real y—it was just like the game with Benjamin!”

    “What?”
    She might as wel tel the whole. “The truth of it is that we didn’t real y have an affaire . I was so cross at Benjamin that I just
    —wel , I lost my head. Vil iers was taking me home and—and—but he—”
    “You’re going to have to be a bit more clear,” Jemma said. “Based on my rather varied experience of men, I’d say that he made an advance to you in the carriage?”
    “No,” Harriet said, drinking again. “I did.”
    “Excel ent decision,” Jemma said promptly. “Frenchwomen understand that a woman must pick and choose amongst her admirerers rather than leaving it to the man’s discretion.”
    “There are no men for me,” Harriet said miserably. “Benjamin was the only one.”
    “So what happened with Vil iers?”
    “He kissed me for a bit, but then—wel —this is so embarrassing. He did this thing .”
    Jemma’s eyes were bright with interest. “What thing?”
    “With—with his hands. And that’s al I’m going to say about it.”
    “Even if I pour you some more tea?”
    “Even then. So I—I—”
    “What did you do? I gather you didn’t just swoon and say, Touch me again! ” Jemma was giggling so hard that her tea was in danger of spil ing.
    “Wel , I said, actual y I shrieked, What are you doing? And he just did it again! ”
    “And it wasn’t any better the second time?”
    “What would you have done?” Harriet asked desperately.
    “It would definitely depend on the thing in question. I enjoy many things that men do with their hands.”
    “You’re so much more sophisticated than I am. I’m not like that. I slapped him. Which is just what my mother, not that my mother would ever , wel , it’s what she would have approved of, I’m sure.”
    “I’m sure,” Jemma said, gurgling with laughter. “What did he do?”
    Harriet took a deep breath. “I’m going to tel you exactly what he said.”
    “I’m ready.”
    “He said that he had always pitied Benjamin for his miserable chess-playing, but from now on he would try to be nicer to him.”
    “Nasty!” Jemma said looking impressed.
    “And then he said that there was nothing worse than a lady whore. And that I had tried to get him to screw one of his best friends, and he must be drunk, because he’d forgotten how damn boring women like me were. And final y he said that if I told Benjamin he would kil me.”
    The laughter had died on Jemma’s face. “That bastard!”
    “And then he put me out on the street. In the middle of Whitefriars Lane and I didn’t have even a ha’penny. I had to walk al the way home.”
    “Double bastard!”
    “I never told Benjamin. I left for the country the next day because I was such a coward that I couldn’t face him. I felt so guilty and so—so dirty! But then someone wrote me and said they had announced in Parsloe’s—”
    “What’s that?”
    “The London Chess Club meets at Parsloe’s. They only take one hundred members, and it’s frightful y exclusive. At any rate, a week or so afterwards they announced that Vil