Considering it best to ignore this, she continued. “I have an acting job for which I would like to hire you. It is . . . rather outside your usual line of work, and might pose some difficulties, but I was at a loss when considering to whom I could possibly turn.”

“What sort of acting job?” he asked, his tone casual, but Violet could sense his interest, could somehow feel the energy emanating from him.

“I should like you to pose as my personal physician,” she stated. “I am in the midst of a slight disagreement with my husband, and I need to convince him that I am extremely ill. He won’t believe my ruse for long if I refuse to consult a physician, so I have need of someone to pose as one who will visit me to give a dire prognosis.”

“What sort of prognosis did you have in mind?” he asked dryly.

“Consumption,” Violet said, as simply as if she were announcing her jam preference at the breakfast table.

Lord Julian stared, as if determining whether she spoke in earnest.

“I see,” he said at last, although he sounded very dubious indeed. “I must confess, I am at a loss for words.”

“With excitement, owing to your eagerness to assist me?” Violet ventured hopefully.

“Ah, no. It is more that I find myself unsure of where, precisely, to begin in my attempt to explain to you the foolishness of this plan.”

“Save your breath, Belfry, I’ve already tried,” Penvale said, taking a large sip from his wineglass.

“To begin, I believe the recommended treatment for consumption often involves a prolonged journey to a sanitarium in the Alps, or some other godforsaken Continental patch of nature, which I presume is a bit more lengthy a recovery than you have in mind.”

“Yes, but—”

“Secondly, I cannot imagine any man in his right mind reacting with anything other than anger upon discovering that he has been duped in so spectacular a fashion by his own wife, meaning that I cannot believe that this scheme will result in anything other than Audley slapping a glove in my face. And, alas, I fear I’m growing rather old for dueling.”

“Then I suggest you don’t let on that it’s you,” Violet said. “I was under the impression that you were a rather skilled actor. Or is your reputation inflated?” She could see that he was preparing to reject her, and hoped that pricking at his pride would motivate him where nothing else would.

Lord Julian, however, merely looked amused. “Well, my lady,” he replied lazily, leaning back in his chair, “as tempting as it is to assist you in this entirely half-baked scheme of yours, I’m afraid it shan’t be possible for a number of reasons. The most noteworthy being that I am acquainted with your husband, and therefore cannot possibly hope to pass myself off as an unknown physician.”

“Surely any good actor is adept at costuming himself,” Diana noted. Her silence apparently had its limits.

“This is true,” Lord Julian acknowledged reluctantly.

“Then it should be no trouble for you to do as I ask,” Violet said.

“I see no reason to play a role in your little marital game,” Lord Julian announced.

“It’s not—” Violet protested, but Lord Julian continued as though she hadn’t said anything.

“I’ve no great admiration for the institution of marriage, so please believe me, my lady, when I tell you that my objections do not stem from a concern about the felicity of your and Audley’s union. However, I see no possible advantage to me, and the mild possibility that your husband shall ask me to meet him with pistols at dawn. That is a risk I am willing to take only for the sake of more . . . pleasurable results, shall we say.” He took another sip of wine, then leaned back in his chair, as though he were a chess player awaiting her next move.

“I am willing to pay you for your time, of course,” Violet said stiffly—she generally scorned aristocratic mores, and yet she could not make herself comfortable speaking of pecuniary matters.

“I do not require your blunt, my lady.” Lord Julian sounded amused.

“Well, surely there must be something I can offer,” Violet said desperately. Lord Julian’s gaze raked her slowly, making her cheeks warm, and then his eyes shifted to Diana, whose figure he perused with similar thoroughness. After a moment, however, he straightened in his seat, his manner at once more businesslike. While Violet was relieved that she seemed not to have drawn his interest, she felt Diana stiffen imperceptibly next to her. Diana was used to men finding her hopelessly alluring, allowing her the pleasure of rejecting them.

“There is one thing you can give me,” Lord Julian conceded after another long moment of silence.

“And what is that?” Violet asked, torn between curiosity and wariness.

“Your presence,” he said. “At my theater.” Violet wasn’t certain what she had been expecting, but it hadn’t been this. She exchanged a glance with Diana, hoping her shock didn’t show too plainly on her face. Diana, for her part, also looked surprised, though she hid her confusion fairly well, betraying it only by the slightest wrinkling of her brow.

“I understood your theater to be very successful,” Violet said. Indeed, the Belfry, as Lord Julian’s theater was aptly named, was frequently whispered of among members of the ton. While it was not seen as entirely respectable, Belfry’s aristocratic connections had enabled him to obtain a limited patent to stage drama during the summer months, and she knew that it was quite popular among aristocrats who wished to take their mistresses for an evening’s entertainment without running the risk of encountering their wives’ friends. She had, in her darker moments, wondered if James had ever squired a mistress there himself. She had no reason to believe he’d been unfaithful—but four years was a terribly long time.