“I have only lain with one man, Philip, and that man is standing before me. Do you not recall when we were in Derbyshire? The dear surgeon mourned his lost commission and Rosanna was with Cassandra.”

“Margaret, you are mad,” Portland continued. “I am no more the father of your child than is Harris or Fotherby.”

“So you are going to deny it?” Margaret demanded.

“Enough,” Harris said firmly, taking the woman’s shoulders and gently encouraging her to be seated once more. “Philip would not do such a thing. He would not do anything to hurt Rosie.”

“But she cannot give him a child,” Miss Webb continued. “I shall give my child to you, Philip, as you wanted. A son for you and Rosanna. You know...

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