“That was different,” Lady Bridgerton said. “How so?” This, from Francesca, who was wearing her usual sly smile. “He’d said he was going to that awful Cavender boy’s party, and then never came back, whereas this time . . .” Lady Bridgerton stopped, pursing her lips. “Why am I explaining myself to you?” “I can’t imagine,” Sophie murmured. Eloise, who was sitting closest to Sophie, choked on her tea.
