Sequestered in their room, Denton very carefully unbuttoned the ruined vest, laying it to dry on the back of a chair. Perhaps the fabric wouldn't warp after all, and they could stop thinking of it as the ruined vest. What they had certainly damaged beyond repair was Anne Ostenby's impression of them.

They ran a hand through their dripping hair as if they could comb out the memory, but the dreaded silence of the long walk still rang in their ears. Why could they think of nothing to say, nothing at all? Their heart had been so vigorous in its duties that they could not feel anything else but its beating, not the water or wind, nor even Anne's arm wrapped firmly around their own.

Even now, in relative safety, it beat frightfully in their chest. They came too close to discovery. Everything could have been given up, washed transparent by the rain.

Still shivering, they undressed in a series of halting movements as if momentarily transformed into a marionette. Through time and circumstance, their body had become as a stranger to them, even as their mind yearned to inhabit what had once been its home. Alas, Denton could think of no way to reconcile the two. Being laid bare before themself was a torment they could not withstand for long. They dressed quickly, avoiding the mirror's burning gaze until donning the final touches of their ensemble.

There, they were all the part of a gentleman again.

It was fortunate timing, as a knock sounded at their door. "Denton?" Ashenby's voice carried through.

"I'm here," they replied.

Without further ado, Ashenby entered, frowning as he took in his friend's condition. "I came to see how you were getting on."

"I'm well, thank you." Denton's reply was measured, but they could not help feeling grateful that the lord had come only after they were dressed. Still, it was Ashenby's house, and he was free to enter any room as he wished.

Ashenby let out a small sigh of relief. "How long were you stranded out in the downpour?"

"It was perhaps an hour we walked, very likely less." It felt like more, Denton wished to add.

"No wonder you were in such a state!" Ashenby cried, worry again in his features. "Why didn't you ride the horse?"

"It did not seem fitting to leave Miss Anne stranded in that position."

Ashenby nodded, then paused. "Now here's a thought: could you both have ridden?"

Denton turned away, unable to meet Ashenby's eye. "It hardly seemed appropriate."

The lord hummed, but ultimately gave his agreement. As they often did, his thoughts shifted quickly to another tangent. "By the by, I did try to send a message to the hall, but the weather is too bad. I hope the Ostenbys won't worry themselves too terribly." He sighed. "Today has been an utter disaster - but at least somebody in the house kept a clear head."

"Thank you," Denton murmured.

"Sir Eccleston promised me that if I were to invest time in you, raising you up a little, I would find you a person of great intellect and feeling, and here you are just as described. I'm ashamed to say I had underestimated you, but I have since learned to rely on you a great deal. Whatever favors I have done, you have returned them just as warmly. Today, you are a veritable ray of sunshine, when all around us the summer air seems to have chilled."

There was a pause as Denton attempted to formulate a proper reply to such a compliment.

Ashenby sat down heavily on the bed, his expression distant. "I hadn't anticipated that Wil's antipathy for his brother ran so deep. Perhaps I should have. I know what Nathan is like, I know what he is capable of. Yet, too I fundamentally understand the pressures of being an oldest son who does not fit the mold. The bars of the gilded cage can burn like hot iron if one gets too close, making it impossible to expand beyond, impossible to conceive of a beyond - and so, one gets very good at living a double life. I've merely chosen to play a nobler character than that which Nathan has selected. If one could only draw back that artifice like layers of paint, the truth becomes apparent, saints and monsters once more reduced to men. We are delicate, fallible creatures after all, though that is not how many wish to portray themselves."

Again, Denton was left searching for words. They longed to explain how deeply they understood and echoed Ashenby's sentiment, that hidden desire to be known as one's true self beyond a persona. But Denton did not risk being held in a golden cage - a prison of iron awaited with a far more bleak aspect, and fear of this fate bound them to their silence.

"Wellington wrote me this morning," Ashenby interjected in a bright tone, shaking his head as if to dispel his darker thoughts.

Denton gave a small smile of relief, encouraging the conversation's new direction. "You've mentioned him, I believe. Sir Carlisle's youngest son, with erstwhile military aspirations?"

"Yes, by the time he could secure himself a position and make his way there, it was all over." Ashenby chuckled. "Wellington is ambitious, I'll give him that."

"I take it he'll be arriving soon?"

"He writes of joining us in the upcoming week."

"We shall be busy," they mused, "with the ball in Lucy's honor on Friday."

"Ah yes! I had nearly forgotten."

Denton held silent a moment before hesitantly beginning, "My lord Ashenby - "

"That address," Ashenby laughed, "alerts me to the fact that you are going to ask a question or give an opinion of which you fear I might take objection. Go on."

"Very well. Speaking of the entire party, are we all going to attend?"

"Don't fret," Ashenby kept a light tone, "if Nathan becomes a true menace to society, I will not hesitate to remove him from Lofton Hall myself."

"And what of your guests? Are you entirely satisfied that Mr. Harding has not done them some great injury?"

Ashenby held up a hand. "I know of no offense worth casting him aside. He has offended his brother, and broke with my uncle - that would be Mary and Victoria's father - a number of years ago. These are difficulties to be gotten over, to be healed." He softened. "If I learned him to be reprehensible, I would do my duty to my family first. Rest easy, Denton. Hurt feelings and a little awkwardness can be mended, in time."

Denton saw with apprehension that there was truly no way of removing Mr. Harding from the party, much less the Ostenby's invitation. Towards Lucy Ostenby, in particular, they felt rather protective, as she seemed so young yet. In their opinion, one was never too old or too worldly enough to have to suffer an introduction to Nathaniel Harding.

Still, something in Ashenby's last phrase struck a chord: perhaps they should apply themself to mending the recent awkwardness they had caused with Anne. There was a real potential for friendship with the lady, if they did not throw it away. It would have to be deftly managaged, and Denton must be careful, but what of all that, when they would receive the boon of Anne's company?

Even if their mistakes could not be written over, at the very least they would try. They just needed a moment to talk to her alone.

-----

When Denton and Ashenby arrived in the drawing room, all was not as discordant as they had feared. Victoria, though perhaps a little flushed, sat on the sofa and watched the proceedings with a sardonic air. Mary sat beside her, posture stiff and upright, but her smile was unfeigned as she chatted with Anne. Anne's affect was much the same as ever, her eyes bright with ready wit. Restored to order, her ensemble consisted of plainly braided locks and an ornate green dress cut in modest but becoming fashion. She did not seem immediately to notice Denton, or perhaps that was on purpose.

William Harding was stationed at a seat between the ladies and gentlemen. He was deeply engrossed in his book, or wished to appear so.

Mr. Ostenby stood at the mantle in conversation with Nathaniel Harding, although he looked as though he would rather converse with anybody else. His hands sprung up from his sides and fluttered back again, his eyes traveling around the room. He soon spotted Denton, relief etched into his features. "None the worse for wear, I hope?" he asked.

They shook their head. "Not in the slightest." Denton wished that they had garnered rather less attention. It had been their intent to slip quietly into a seat nearby the ladies, but once more the gentlemen had sought them out to soothe the tension between them.

"Denton is as healthy as an ox," Mr. Harding declared with his customary flare, at once overzealous and sarcastic.

"Mr. Harding." They gave a nod, but could think of no other acknowledgement for such a statement.

"You might still catch a cold," Ashenby insisted. "If you wish it, I can have Samuel light you a fire tonight."

"That will be unnecessary, but thank you kindly."

"Very well." There was a slight hesitation in Ashenby's tone, as if he were tempted to use his influence to push the situation further. Ultimately, however, he said nothing more.

Mr. Harding took full advantage of the silence to direct the conversation. "As I was telling Ostenby here," he interjected, "the neighborhood has changed much since I last saw it."

Though they searched for the boast hidden in the small-talk, Denton could not immediately detect its point. This soon changed, as they saw Ostenby glance in Anne's direction, a scowl on his face as he turned to look back at Mr. Harding with flinty eyes, although he said nothing. Denton was fairly certain they now knew of what subject the two had been speaking. Their blood boiled as they imagined Mr. Harding's comments relating to Anne's appearance in the afternoon.

Anne must have felt eyes on her, for she looked up and glanced at Denton. It was a reserved gaze, filled with cool and rational judgment. Her speech was subdued, with no particular inflection as she said, "Mr. Denton, I'm glad to see you're all right."

They gave a little nod. "As am I, Miss Ostenby."

She seemed satisfied at that, as she turned back to Mary to resume their conversation.

However, Mary's attention was directed out the window, where tempestuous drops splattered against the glass. "I hope your mother and sisters aren't too terribly worried for you." She said aloud, addressing both sister and brother.

Mr. Ostenby smiled, but there was a crease in his brow. "It cannot be helped for the moment. Unfortunately, Mamma has a tendency towards worry at the slightest provocations, but we will relieve her just as soon as we are able."

Victoria spoke softly from her seat. "I must thank you for taking so much trouble over me, Mr. Ostenby, Miss Ostenby."

He smiled, the tips of his ears faintly red. "I'm glad that we found you, and that you believe my duties as a gentleman were discharged well."

"You are kind. Not all would see such care as a duty." She insisted.

"One of the many changes!" Mr. Harding cut in. "You have grown to be a fine gentleman, though in my head you are still a little boy."

Ruffled now, Ostenby let out a snort, but elected to say nothing further after looking towards Ashenby. Denton did not doubt that, had Mr. Harding not been the lord's particular friend, not even Ostenby's status as a guest in the house would have prevented him from telling the man off soundly.

Anne had no such qualms, and she rose instantly from her seat, placing herself between her brother and Mr. Harding. Her smile was small and sharp. "Sir, I believe you made several veiled remarks on my appearance earlier. I am always open to critique: make me your principal target." She held his gaze without flinching as he eyed her.

William Harding snapped his book shut, looking up with undisguised astonishment and amusement.

Ashenby let out a nervous chuckle, placing a hand on Anne's arm. "There will be no need, my dear formidable Miss Ostenby. Mr. Harding will act the part of a gentleman, or I will personally assure he faces both my wrath and your mamma's."

The latter half was a very pointed reminder directed at Mr. Harding. No games were to be played, not when it was Ashenby himself who bore all of the risk. It was a maneuver of which Denton heartily approved - much as a small part of them wished to hear what a volley of words Anne might have for such a man.

Mr. Harding's face was graced by a look of innocent surprise, eyes wide and childlike. "I never meant to cause any offense to you, Miss Ostenby, or your brother. Let young Oliver vouch for me, my manners are far too open and fraternal with everybody. But let me be quick to apologize where I have caused injury, however unconsciously done."

Denton noted with grim amusement that, for all of his flowery language, Mr. Harding had neglected to include a true apology. Rather, he left an aggrandized testament to himself in its stead. This amusement was short lived, as one by one, all pairs of eyes fell on them. Why Mr. Harding had selected Denton and not Ashenby as his character witness, they couldn't say. Whatever they replied, it would set the tone for the entire evening.

Damn him, they thought, but aloud said only, "He has indeed issued me a few apologies in the short time that we have known one another, most for a myriad of minute offenses that hardly warranted such."

"There," Mr. Harding grinned, "the very picture of youthful piousness and innocence has vouched for my moral center."

It was all Denton could do not to roll their eyes.

Anne regarded Mr. Harding shrewdly, without bothering to hide her curiosity. "Were I to judge you this instant," she proclaimed, "I would declare that you had few manners and little delicacy. However," she softened ever so slightly, "the same has sometimes been said of me. I will accept your apology, on the condition that I will brook no further rudeness."

Mr. Harding bowed. "I would not dream of it, Miss Ostenby. I will be very careful with you."

She took the apology in stride, acknowledging it with a graceful nod before gathering herself and returning to her seat. With an evident desire to push another topic, she turned to William Harding and asked quietly, "How is your book, sir?"

With such concessions made, an easy flow of small-talk filled the room until the dinner bell rang.

-----

Fortunately, much like the extravagant luncheon of the afternoon, Ashenby had also planned dinner as a grand affair, and the addition of two extra proved no setback, as the portions were still abundant. He appeared pleased with both the refreshments at his table and the civility established among his guests. Emboldened, he had sat Nathaniel Harding opposite Anne, who was flanked on one side by her brother, Victoria on the other. Denton he kept near himself, and Mary was seated as a buffer between the Harding brothers, on account of her overall temperate personality. No doubt, Ashenby hoped it was just the right mix to further conversation among them.

Unlike their host, Denton was not so confident in the arrangement, but what reservations they had, they kept to themself. After all, there was no seat at the table that Mr. Harding could occupy that would not be awkward to someone or another, and whatever coldness Mary bore him, it was not so bad in comparison with the open hostility of his own brother. At least at dinner, everybody would be obliged to keep the conversation light. Furthermore, sometimes even Mr. Harding would have to be silent to close his mouth and chew.

"Ashenby," Ostenby said as the first course was laid out, "I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you accommodating my sister and I."

The lord beamed. "Think nothing of it, a trifle between neighbors and friends. Besides, you have brought Victoria back to us, safe and sound. I cannot tell you how we worried."

Victoria leaned in, attempting to catch his eye. "I'm sorry to have been the cause of worry or pain to anybody, especially you, dear cousin."

"Nonsense," Nathaniel Harding broke in resolutely. "You could never be of harm to anybody, dear girl. You must let nobody make you embarrassed. I won't allow them to admonish you on my account."

The glass trembled once in Victoria's hand before she brought it hastily to her lips. It saved her the trouble of making an immediate reply.

"What news can you bring us from London, Mr. Harding?" Mary piped up resolutely. "Any diversions?" She emphasized the last word, hiding a point.

Mr. Harding could not look her in the eye, but busied himself with fixing his collar. "I did not take you for a gossip, Miss Ashenby," he said in an undertone that reached the whole party.

Mary colored slightly, but kept her reply very civil. "Please don't mistake me for one now. So late into our acquaintance, we really ought to understand one another."

"I am ready with sound rejoinder, should she need a character reference," William Harding added in a tone soft but decisive. He attempted a smile to add levity, which very nearly had its intended effect.

At this, Denton was ready to ease the conversation back into pleasanter subjects. If the Ostenbys had not been in the party, perhaps they would have found less motivation to smooth things over, but the idea of dinner turning into some sort of scene in front of the guests kept Denton's morbid curiosity well in hand.

"I have been meaning to thank you for your invitation, Lord Ashenby," Denton remarked casually. "I find I prefer the country to the city."

With a grateful glance, Ashenby seized the opportunity by responding, "And the older I get, the more I find that what I prefer has very little to do with place, and all to do with company." He raised his glass. "Cheers. To the company."

Everybody raised their glasses and repeated the toast, some with more enthusiasm than others.

"Please," their host gestured, "eat."

Denton felt a small wave of relief. Everybody would soon be too busy eating to sling barbs at one another. And the food! They hadn't realized it earlier in the evening, but they were famished. It was all they could do to slow down and keep their table manners intact.

When the course was done, the plates were taken away empty - save for Victoria's, which Denton could not help but notice. Discretely, they looked to Ashenby, who nodded back subtly. Dinner was not the time to inquire seriously after her health, but he would make sure she was looked to.

"I believe the rain is finally letting up," Victoria commented, looking outside.

Ostenby sighed. "What a relief! I worry for Mamma, who is busy worrying about us, and so on and on it goes."

Victoria smiled slightly, almost wistfully. "You're a good son."

"I should hope to be, Miss Victoria. I take pride in all that my family has accomplished, and a very great deal of our present good fortune owes to her doing, and hers alone."

She smiled back at him, though it did not quite reach her eyes.

Mr. Harding had been observing them quietly. "I cannot wait to be reintroduced to your family," he addressed Ostenby, but his gaze strayed back to Victoria.

"There will be ample time, for we are throwing a ball in honor of my sister," remarked Anne, who had also been watching the exchange closely. "You shall have your opportunity in four days, Mr. Harding."

He turned his focus on her with a bright smile full of reptilian charm. "Ah, congratulations to your sister! Truth be told, I had not remarked on it because I feared I may have been too late to receive an invite. Hopefully you will not find me too much of an inconvenience?"

"We are willing to accommodate - within reason," Ostenby tacked on, wary of extending him too much hospitality, though such a thing seemed out of his character.

"I thank you most sincerely." Rather than offended, Mr. Harding appeared to be touched. Acting carried away by an effusion of gentlemanly feeling, he went on, "I shall have to ask the young lady for a dance."

William Harding, who had hitherto been silent on the subject, spoke almost imperceptibly through tight lips, "She is sixteen."

There was hardly a moment's pause before Mr. Harding spoke again, nodding thoughtfully as he pulled at his chin. "It's a good age to make a gentle introduction into the world. She will make a splash at her debut, then fade quietly into the throng until her beauty blooms and her manners become charming."

Ostenby raised a brow slightly, face pensive as he mulled Mr. Harding's statement. "That was Mamma's general idea, yes."

Denton too examined what Mr. Harding had said, looking for insinuation or insult, but they could detect none. Both his address and manner had appeared genuine. This in turn was almost more puzzling.

"She is very good at drawing," Denton added, hoping that this might lead away from the topic of beauty and blooming of the young girl. They had much rather turn the discussion to her merits.

Ostenby's features betrayed a hint of relief. "Yes, and we are all exceedingly proud of her. She is most accomplished at such a young age."

"Far more than I can ever be," Anne chimed in with a laugh.

"That's the rub," Mr. Harding remarked. "I find the younger ones often have more time to be accomplished, for they are not out and about so much as the ladies of the house. Oh, don't mistake me, I mean no slight on anybody's part: the younger are free, the older respectable, formidable in their experience."

"I do not think my sisters, young or old, would say that they are free." Anne took a sip from her glass, but said nothing else. No one asked to what she alluded.

-----

After they had finished the dessert course, the rain had reduced to a soft drizzle, mist beginning to rise and curl from the ground.

"There," Ashenby addressed both Ostenbys, "you are free to go home. My carriage awaits you at your leisure."

"What of Minerva?" Anne asked, reluctant to leave without her steed.

"You can't ride home in that," Ostenby nodded to her gown. "If you take the carriage, I could ride behind and pony her off of my mount."

She pondered it a moment, still hesitant as she momentarily flicked her eyes in Denton's direction, but at last she conceded, "A valid solution." She turned to Ashenby. "Thank you, my lord. I will accept your offer."

"It is the very least I can do, after all that you have been through today," Ashenby insisted.

From there, things concluded very quickly. The Ostenbys set out at once, anxious to return home and soothe their mother's nerves. They took their leave very gallantly, so that it hardly felt rushed, but Denton felt they merely had time to blink and then the guests were gone. Anne had said nothing further to them, nor made any kind of sign, nothing indicating a particular ill feeling or fond regard.

They were not parting on bad terms, Denton reasoned. Although they would have liked to have gotten the chance to speak quietly with Anne, they were willing to wait.

Perhaps it was for the best that the Ostenbys were gone. While one storm had ended, another hung in the air inside of Chesterfield, with the charged energy of lightning ready to strike at any moment.