A hush greeted this speech. Most simply seemed stunned that anyone would admit, in polite conversation, to being employed by a manufacturer. Penelope felt a sudden fierce, protective pride in poor verbose Edward, who worked for his living and had a million kinds of knowledge these society folk would never understand. But his picture of a demonstration presided over by, in effect, hundreds of armed Sir Jaspers horrified her so that she could not think of anything to fill the silence.

“That is not very encouraging,” Miss Lovelace said gamely.

“No,” Edward said. “But surely such divisiveness does not exist here. Factories and manufacturing towns, as concentrating a large number of men who are not always of the best character in one place, are breeding grounds for factionalism and resentment. Here, where you know your workers personally, things must be different. And surely it is better to be poor in the country: it is so clean here, and on my way I saw several kitchen gardens, and even chickens. There is nothing like that in the towns.”

Penelope almost laughed, but it was a bitter amusement; at once there were a dozen voices all eager to assure Edward that the poor thirsted for the blood of the rich every bit as much in the country. So much for Edward’s superior understanding.

She felt pulled this way and that. Who was she now? A brewer’s daughter? Or a landowner’s wife? Lucy Hopper, who had laughed at her accent at school, had asked her opinion and listened deferentially to her answer. She had wanted so badly for that girl-all those girls-to respect her; yet she found none of the expected pleasure in her sudden elevation.

Her life had been so much simpler when she was just a Cit. She had known who she was and what she ought to be doing.

Edward leaned down, so close she could feel his breath warm against her ear. It did not affect her in the slightest. “Your sister-in-law is about to create a scene.”

She started and followed the direction of his eyes. A little ways off, Louisa was clinging to Mr. Garrett’s arm. His face was dead white, and he seemed to be trying to detach her. Louisa looked almost in tears. Penelope looked for Nev and felt her face heating. Nev did not see Louisa; he was looking at her and Edward with a distinctly murderous expression.

Penelope smiled at Miss Lovelace. “Please excuse me. I had better make sure the strawberries have not made Lady Louisa ill.”

As she drew near she heard Louisa saying, in a furious undertone, “You men! You’re all the same-you think that because I’m a girl, you must know better than I what will make me happy!”

Penelope felt an unwanted pang of sympathy, remembering how her parents had refused, all those years, to let her marry Edward. Now it seemed they had been right-although she was not sure that in permitting her to marry Nev, they had not made a far greater mistake. “Louisa, Mr. Garrett.” She had made no effort to approach quietly, but they both started as if she had leapt out from behind a tree and screamed. “Please,” she said, “Louisa, won’t you come away? People are staring.”

“Let them stare,” Louisa said.

“Louisa,” Mr. Garrett remonstrated under his breath.

Penelope tried to stand so that she was blocking Louisa’s white, wild face from the view of most of the guests. “Louisa, please, we’ll have this all out later, I promise. But in the meantime wouldn’t it be better not to do anything irrevocable?”

“I want to do something irrevocable,” Louisa said in a low, thick voice. “I can’t be a good girl like you. I can’t pretend that I’m happy living the way everyone else wants me to. Living without scandal and noise isn’t enough for me, I want to live-”

“This isn’t the time or the place to discuss this! Mr. Garrett, tell her-”

Louisa turned to her lover. “Yes, Percy, tell me. Tell me to be bloodless and cold and think three tricks ahead before I discard.”

“I might tell you to have more consideration for the feelings of others,” Mr. Garrett said. “It is not merely yourself that will suffer if you make yourself miserable, Louisa.”

Her mouth trembled, almost smiling. “I’ll only be miserable without you.” He gave her a small, fond, helpless smile back.

Penelope smothered an impatient sigh. “We will all be miserable if your mother catches wind of this.”

Louisa’s eyes widened. “Nate isn’t going to tell her, is he?”

“I haven’t the least idea,” Penelope said honestly. “But he certainly isn’t going to tell her here, if you don’t do it for him by making a scene.”

Louise fixed her with an urgent stare. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand what she’s like. She’ll probably suggest I marry Sir Jasper and take Percy as a lover.”

Penelope couldn’t help a small sputter of laughter.

For some reason, that seemed to calm Louisa. She took a deep breath and eyed Penelope. “You aren’t going to do that, are you?”

Penelope started. “What?”

“Take a lover.” Louisa leaned forward impatiently. “Nate just told me he loves you.”

Mr. Garrett gave her a small shove. “Louisa!”

Penelope’s heart stuttered in her chest. “No, you must have misheard him-”

“I didn’t mishear him,” Louisa said. “I don’t know if I believe it either, but he believes it. And I don’t care what kind of bloodless bargain you made with Nate when you married him, if you think you can do as you like as long as you pretend nothing’s happening and the neighbors don’t find out, think again. Because if you hurt my brother, I will kill you.”

“Lady Louisa,” Sir Jasper said from right behind Penelope, and she started. Oh, God, how much had he heard? “You’re missing all the strawberries.” He held out his arm. “And I know how fond you are of them. Your father used to buy up half my strawberries sometimes to make you happy. Come, there is a patch over there that no one has found yet.”

For a moment Penelope was afraid Louisa really would do something irrevocable. Instead, the girl hesitated, glanced in her mother’s direction-and placed her hand on Sir Jasper’s arm.

Penelope smiled at her. “Did your father really?”

Louisa rolled her eyes. “He never remembered. Not once. But Nate always ate mine, so it was all right.”

“Strawberries make Louisa ill,” Penelope explained.

For several seconds, Sir Jasper could only blink. “Oh, my dear. How very unfortunate. I assure you, I had no idea.”

“Neither did my father,” Louisa said impatiently. “So I can hardly claim to be greatly offended by your ignorance.”

“I hope you will forgive me enough to come with your family to a dance at Greygloss tomorrow night. I know you are in mourning, but it is to be an informal affair, and I thought it might prove a welcome diversion from recent distressing events in the district.”

Penelope, remembering the way Sir Jasper had looked at Josie Cusher, wanted to strike him across the face.

“Mr. Garrett will naturally be attending.” He looked at Penelope significantly; his tone of voice suggested that he thought this would be an inducement to her to come.

She stared at him, puzzled. But she did not want to be unsociable, and in the normal course of things she would have accepted his invitation anyway. It was not as if they had a prior engagement. “We shall certainly be there, if Nev thinks it is proper. We are nearly in half mourning, anyway.”

As the baronet was leading Louisa away, he leaned in toward Penelope. “We are not all as puritanical as Louisa. Pardon her; she is very protective of her brother and very young.”

Penelope flushed crimson. So. He’d heard at least the last part of their conversation. Did he mean-did he think she was having an affair with-Mr. Garrett? And that that was why Nev had tossed him out? Then why invite him to stay? Did he want her to have an affair? Why? She shook her head, trying to clear it. Nothing made sense anymore. Edward was reckless, Sir Jasper was a pander, and Nev-Nev had said he loved her?