Chapter Seventeen
Hugo blindly left the room, the many faces staring at him a blur. He raced down the stairs and when he reached the foyer, he pushed past the footman, flinging open the door himself and hurrying out into the night. All he wanted was the safety of his carriage.
He found his coachman, who looked startled to see him, and threw open the door, leaping into the carriage and slamming the door behind him. Panting, he dropped his head into his hands.
Everything was ruined. His secret was out.
His two chief persecutors had finally taken enough notice of him to recognize Lord Merriman as the pathetic boy they had abused.
By confronting him in front of other members of Polite Society—and especially in Lady Tia Worthington’s presence—he had been so rattled that his stutter had reappeared.
All the years of working daily, trying to overcome his deficiency, had been shattered in a few moments.
He tore at his hair, a growl coming from him, as he felt the life he had carefully built slip through his fingers.
Though the gathering at Lord and Lady Tallon’s had been small, every person present in that library would share his or her account of what they had witnessed.
The gossip would spread like wildfire, and he would no longer be welcomed at social affairs.
Or worse, he would attend one and find that others mocked him, either behind his back—or to his face.
He worried about the consequences of tonight’s debacle and how much Dilly might be affected. Would Lord Forsythe withdraw his offer of marriage, seeing that his brother-in-law was the laughingstock of Polite Society? Or would Forsythe do the honorable thing and keep fast to his commitment to Dilly?
The door opened. He raised his head and saw Dilly enter the vehicle, her eyes filled with tears. She sat across from him, taking his hands.
“Oh, I am so sorry, Hugo.”
“No, I am the o-one who should apologize. F-for ruining your night.”
Mama took a seat beside him, placing a hand on his leg. “It will be all right, Merriman.”
“No. It most certainly will not, Mama,” he said bitterly, watching his sister’s fiancé join them inside the vehicle. He thought it a good sign when Forsythe linked his fingers with Dilly’s.
Then the earl looked at Hugo. “My feelings toward Lady Dilly are steadfast. My commitment to her—and this family—unwavering. You have my support, Lord Merriman.”
“You have a good heart, Forsythe,” he said wearily, trying his best to watch his speech, even in front of those dearest to him.
“I do not expect you . . . to stand by my side in this matter. I appreciate your . . . loyalty to my sister, however. Hopefully, the two of you can wed q-quietly. For me, I shall return to the country.”
“No,” Mama said, her tone resolute. “Those men will not chase you from town.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it.
“I knew sending you away to school would be awful, Hugo, but your father insisted. You were but a small boy then, powerless against the bullies who bedeviled you. Your suffering was great—but you are a grown man now. You are an earl. A wealthy earl. Why, you are friends with two dukes.”
“Do you truly think Reddington or M-Millbrooke can support me through such troubles, Mama?” he asked.
“I believe your friends are your friends and will remain so,” she said, confidence in her voice. “If you allow those two dishonorable scalawags to affect the way you think of yourself, then you are dicked in the nob.”
He grimaced. “I am not mad, Mama. Merely trying . . . to be practical. No one will be comfortable in my presence. No one—even a loyal friend—should be forced to take a stance with me. I cannot attend any social events. Because the gossip will fill the room.”
Hugo squeezed her fingers. “I have already made much of your life miserable as it is.”
“Do not say such a thing,” she huffed. “Your father is the one who ruined both our lives. Thankfully, we are rid of him.”
“Well, now that Forsythe here will not abandon Dilly, it m-matters not if I go to social affairs.”
“Give it some time, Lord Merriman,” Forsythe said.
“Yes, the gossips will be in full force the next few days, but they will move on to another topic. There will be another couple who elopes to Gretna Green, or some lady will be compromised by a rake. After a week, you will be of little interest to them.”
He met Forsythe’s gaze. “Do you truly think so?”
The man shrugged. “Isn’t that how gossip works? The gossip mill will churn on, feeding upon new victims to smear.”
Though Hugo understood in theory what Forsythe said, he doubted it would be true in this instance. He imagined entering a ballroom or White’s. Immediately, talk would die as others scrutinized him.
Even worse, he had finally decided because Dilly was spoken for that he might test the waters and see if Lady Tia had any interest in him. Now, however, she would avoid him at all costs.
Sighing, he promised, “I will not leave town. To do so would be victory for those two bloody cocksuckers. I still feel you should wed. In a quiet affair.”
Dilly sniffed. “I will not let those two men dictate what my wedding will be like. Mama and I have an appointment with Madame Laurent tomorrow afternoon so that she might create a wedding gown for me. I will not be rushed. Lord Forsythe and I will have the ceremony we wish to have. When we wish to have it. And where we choose to speak our vows.”
“I admire your gumption, Dilly,” he told her.
“And your loyalty, my lord,” he said to Forsythe.
Looking to his mother, he said, “I am sorry about how . . . I responded . . . to this evening. I should not have fled the scene.” He hesitated.
“If you do not wish for me to be at your wedding, Dilly, I would understand.”
She burst into tears. “You must come, Hugo, else I will not wed.”
“I will be there,” he assured her, still hoping she would have nothing to do with him so that she and the family she created would not be tainted by association.
The coachman drove to Lord Forsythe’s first, and he told them goodnight, promising to visit with them at tea tomorrow afternoon.
“I will also go to White’s in the morning and see what damage has been done. And I must extract a promise from you, my lord.”
Knowing how loyal the earl had been to his sister, he nodded. “Anything.”
“I know you will not want to attend tomorrow night’s ball.”
“Heavens, n-no!”
“But as I said, the gossip will end. You say you will remain in town. Skip the next few events, but after a week’s time, I believe you should return to socializing. Let Polite Society see you are not cowed by those two blackguards.”
Though it pained him to think of facing others, Hugo nodded, and the earl departed.
The carriage started up again, and they remained silent the rest of the way home.
He told himself he must double the time he practiced each day.
Read aloud more. Sing more. Anything to rebuild his shattered confidence.
When they reached home, he bid his mother and sister goodnight.
“You are not retiring?” Mama asked.
“I think I will go play my pianoforte,” he told her, knowing the instrument would bring him comfort.
Retreating to the music room, he sat before his instrument, cracking his knuckles before beginning to play.
He launched into a complicated invention by Bach, knowing the tricky fingering would command all his attention.
He needed to have something to keep his mind from going back to those horrifying moments when he had been humiliated.
The fact it had occurred in front of Lady Tia upset him all the more.
Hugo played for a long time, but he could not find solace in music tonight. He wondered if he ever would again. He cursed Balch and Calley aloud, thinking they were still taking things from him, and shouted, “I will not let you rob me of anything else!”
“Good. I was hoping you would come around.”
Wheeling, he saw Matthew sitting nearby, his ankle casually crossed over his knee as he slouched in the chair.
Standing, Hugo confronted him. “Why are you h-here?”
“I thought you might like to know what happened after you left the musicale.”
Panic filled him. He rushed to his friend, lifting his hands, examining the knuckles.
“No, I did not beat either Calley or Balch to a bloody pulp.” Matthew grinned. “I would have liked to. Lady Tia did slap Calley, however.”
“She what?”
“You heard me.”
He sank into a chair before his knees buckled and sent him crashing to the floor. “No. She did not.”
“She did,” his friend insisted. “Calley was completely taken off-guard. It is too bad Lady Tia did not punch him in the nose and bloody him. As it was, the outline of her palm was stark against Calley’s cheek. He and Balch slithered off.”
Leaning forward, Hugo rested his forearms on his thigh. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”
He listened as Matthew recounted the events in the library after Hugo had left. How his mother had conducted herself as a true lady, thanking their hosts with composure and departing. Then how Lady Tia dressed down Balch and Calley in front of the crowd.
“She was magnificent in her defense of you, Hugo. Of course, Calley did his best to malign her in front of everyone, so much so that her brother sprang to her defense.”
“I would expect no less from His Grace. Millbrooke is a true gentleman in every sense of the word, unlike those two scoundrels who plagued me tonight.”
“Things grew heated,” Matthew continued. “Then Calley taunted His Grace, asking him if he wished to duel.”
“Duel? Oh, please, tell me no. That the duke . . . had sense enough . . . not to fall into such a trap.”
Matthew shrugged. “I believe His Grace would have been quick to agree to such a thing, but Lady Tia intervened.” He thought a moment. “She said that dueling was about honor and that Calley and Balch had none. She refused to let Millbrooke agree to a duel, even though they had greatly insulted her.”
He felt even worse than he had in the heat of the moment, when he could not get out a few words without stammering. While it had been admirable of Lady Tia to defend him, she had been foolish to do so, and he told that to Matthew now.
“Lady Tia seems to believe in the goodness of mankind. That Polite Society will shun Balch and Calley for their actions,” his friend revealed.
“I doubt it,” he said flatly. “She has ruined herself. For me. And there is nothing that I can do . . . to repair her reputation.”
“You could offer for her.”
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me, Hugo. I said offer for her. Any woman willing to defend a man so heatedly—and even strike one of his detractors—must hold feelings for you.” Matthew paused. “And I suspect you have feelings for Lady Tia, as well.”
Raking his hands through his hair in frustration, he said, “Even if I did, I doubt she wants to have anything to do with me, Matthew. Or even if she did, Millbrooke would . . . stand in the way. He will not see his sister wed to the likes . . . of me.”
“So, you do have feelings for her?” Matthew pressed.
“I do,” he finally admitted to his friend.
And himself.
“Then you must act upon them.”
“I let my family convince me not to leave for Merrifield. They thought if I did so that I would never forgive myself. For backing down in such a manner. I agree with them. I do not want to be chased off. But it is one thing to take a stand in Polite Society. It is quite another to . . . risk everything . . . and offer marriage to a woman whom I am not even certain likes me.”
He rose. “No. For now, I will remain in town. Lick my wounds a bit before I appear at another ton event. It would be mad to offer for Lady Tia now. If ever.”
Matthew came to his feet. “I have advised you what to do. I cannot put words into your mouth.”
“Much less . . . say them for me,” he teased.
Matthew laughed. “There is that. Let me know when you are ready to seek the company of Polite Society again, Hugo. I will go with you to White’s. Accompany you—and your sister and Forsythe—to any event.”
“The one good thing which came from this evening . . . was finding the depth of the earl’s feelings for Dilly. If he will not abandon her over something such as what we witnessed tonight, then I know he will remain every faithful to her.”
He went to the decanter and poured brandy into two snifters. Handing one to Matthew, he said, “To better days ahead.”
They clinked glasses and downed the brandy. It burned the entire way down to his belly.
“Go home and get some sleep, Matthew. Thank you again for coming to me and relating all that went on in my absence.”
“We are friends for life, Hugo. Nothing you could do would ever chase me away.”
He wondered if he had lost Millbrooke or Dyer’s friendship over tonight’s episode.
And if he would ever have the courage to see if Lady Tia might wish to pursue a relationship with him.