If they had been talking about anyone else, Ophelia would have let the smile show clear on her face as she divulged the details of what she had heard so far. She did love to gossip, and though Nova wasn't the type to pontificate about anything, really, she had never objected to listening to a good bit of society news. Since this was her brother, though, Ophelia had the presence of mind to look abashed, as though she would rather not be saying anything at all.

(She did also remember enough of her own family drama to feel at least a mild pang of sympathy for her, too, but it was more muted; the trauma of having lost her brother and mother over a period of months, or the shock of hearing her sister had run away and possibly sunk Ophelia's own marriage chances in the meantime, could not really be equated with this, however juicy it was. November had her place in society firmly established; she was married, with two sons, and no scandal short of Zabini proportions could touch her now. And it wasn't as though he had died, anyway).

"That he's fled to Paris," she explained. "And that Mr. and Mrs. Finch disowned his new bride. Do you know her?"