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matter. I know you both believed you were right to go to Bow Street. I do have some information, however, that might have influenced your decision.”
    “What information could change the truth? I know what I saw,” Emma said stubbornly.
    Marianne’s lips formed a faint smile. “How you remind me of Ambrose, dear.”
    “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    “As it was meant to be. The integrity that runs in the Kent bloodline is a quality that I admire greatly.” Marianne’s shoulders lifted in an elegant shrug. “Until Ambrose came into my life, I did not concern myself greatly with morality or living by anyone’s rules but my own.”
    “You’re a wonderful wife and mama. And you’ve been nothing but kindness to the rest of us Kents,” Emma argued.
    “I am glad you think so.”
    Marianne’s sincerity sent a squiggle of guilt through Emma. Since moving to London, Emma had felt a slight degree of tension toward her sister-in-law. It wasn’t the other’s fault; all Marianne had done was take the Kents under her wing, treating them to luxury after luxury. Yet in doing so, she’d inadvertently made Emma … extraneous. When it came to leading a fashionable life, Marianne was an expert guide—and Emma as necessary as a fifth wheel.
    Shame suffused Emma. She didn’t want to be ungrateful; she did love her sister-in-law.
    “I know you have our best interests at heart,” she said, flushing.
    “I do,” Marianne agreed, “which is why I must talk to you about Strathaven.”
    “What about him?” Emma said warily.
    “While I cannot lay claim to being as honorable as you and Ambrose, I do have my areas of expertise, and one of them happens to be the ton . Simply put, I have access to a surfeit of gossip. In this instance, there are things I know about the duke that you do not.”
    With trepidation, Emma said, “Such as?”
    “First off, his so-called victim was not a stranger to him.”
    “I know they were acquainted. In fact, I believe Strathaven might have had some hold over Lady Osgood. He probably forced her to his cottage and—”
    “They were lovers, Emma.”
    Chill trickled down Emma’s spine. “Lovers?”
    Marianne nodded. “From what I gather, their affaire was not longstanding. They kept it discreet owing to the fact that Lady Osgood is married.”
    Emma’s mind was working furiously. Goodness, Lady Osgood and Strathaven had been amorously involved? “But it doesn’t change what I saw. He was hurting her,” she blurted. “I saw the duke restraining Lady Osgood. He tied her up, said he would make her beg .”
    A pause.
    “As to that, there might be another explanation,” Marianne said.
    “Such as?” Other than the obvious, Emma couldn’t think of a single one.
    “There have been a few whispers. About Strathaven’s proclivities.” Peachy color stained Marianne’s high cheekbones. “You see, dear, sometimes the relationship between a man and a woman can take … unusual forms.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I don’t suppose you do.” Marianne sighed. “I should hate to spoil your lovely innocence. Suffice it to say that, in hurting his lover, Strathaven may not have actually been hurting her. Do you see what I mean?”
    “No.” That explanation was as clear as the mud on London’s streets.
    “Good lord, this is more difficult than I thought,” Marianne muttered.
    They were interrupted by a knock. Mr. Pitt appeared. “Good morning, madam,” he said with a bow. “Mrs. McLeod wishes to see if you and Miss Emma are receiving at present.”
    Emma’s unease grew. Mrs. McLeod wanted to see her? It was too early for a social call.
    Marianne waved her hand. “Send her in. And do bring some tea—the Ceylon, I think.” When the butler departed, she said, “We’ll continue this conversation later, Emma.”
    As Marianne rose to greet their guest, Emma hung back shyly. In the presence of the older ladies, she felt like an awkward miss. Her sister-in-law was a celebrated