“For a husband you might do worse than the Earl of Winsford!”
The door closed behind him and now Sorilda put her hands up to her face.
What had she done? What had happened?
It seemed impossible that so much had occurred within what cannot have been more than ten or fifteen minutes and yet because of it her whole life had changed.
She looked back, wondering what she could have said to exonerate herself without completely destroying the Duchess or, if she had not been able to do that, without entering into a long and vitriolic argument in which, as her step-aunt had covered her tracks so cleverly, it would have been hard to prove her innocence.
Her uncle had known the truth – there was no doubt about that.
He had not been deceived by the Earl being found in her bedroom or by the play-a
