I gave up on the patch, peeling it off with a sigh and sitting down on the divan opposite Isabella. We had the powder room to ourselves, for now. I might as well make the most of this opportunity.

I took my cousin’s hands in mine. “I hadn’t wished to discuss this before for fear of disturbing you, Izzie. But it would drive me mad to hear those women talk about de Grave in that way. How do you put up with it?”

Izzie’s eyes filled with tears, threatening to brim over. “If it were any other man, I wouldn’t put up with it. But Vincent is so splendid, such a wonderful, wonderful man. You don’t know how he suffers on my account! D’you know he almost decided not to propose?”

I privately wished de Grave had decided to hold to that choice, but outwardly tut-tutted in sympathy.

“He’s everything that is good and decent and beautiful about the world,” she continued, the tears in her eyes replaced with a fervent glow. “Yes, he’s had his missteps. What man hasn’t? The important thing is that he’s moved on from them.”