one of them bearing the telltale gold-spun waistcoat and eyeing her with a mixture of confusion, horror, and even interest. She could only hope her expression was less readable. “Beddingsford, I presume?” she muttered to no one in particular. Unfortunately, her words were heard. “Oh, my lady,” someone near her gushed, “has it been so long that you cannot remember your husband’s face?” This was becoming more and more a production,
