Mourning and half-mourning had felt interminable, and this was her first Big society event since before Cecelia’s death — Hanna prepared, working on puzzles all day until she had to get ready, but it was not enough. She had not had live music in months, had not been able to let the beats settle in her veins and beat back her static — and so now even though she managed to chase the new horrors back, her hands were still shaking and there was a very faint buzzing in her ears.

But Ezra was going with her, and she had to marry, and she’d been newly educated via her kissing lessons with Mr. Hudson. So never mind that she was newly twenty-seven, and never mind that her hands shook, she could be pretty and she could be charming and she could do this.

The champagne, Hanna knew, was a risk. She had wanted something to do with her hands, but it was harder to keep the shakes to herself while she was holding something. She was trying to be a charming conversationalist, really she was — but her hands shook and the champagne flute tumbled out of her grip and onto the floor, sending liquid onto her skirts and onto her conversation partner. Hanna could only stare at them, horrified.