It was his tone, more than the look on his face, that had her breath catch in her throat — Camilla did not see Domitian emote particularly often, and his anger felt real and shocking to her in a way that Matilda’s hadn’t. He hadn’t even done anything with it yet, and she was still surprised, and her eyebrows arched despite herself.

Whether Mr. Prewett was a bad man or not seemed immaterial — he was at least an attractive man — and Camilla took a steady breath before she spoke again. ”What’s next?” she asked. She was, she knew, at Domitian’s mercy — although she expected that the consequences may just involve a lot of quiet threatening of Mr. Prewett and perhaps a shorter leash for herself. (Or — maybe the hasty arrangement from her father she had hoped for.)

As long as she wasn’t pregnant, there didn’t have to be anything.

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