Chapter 15 #2
“Young men will occasionally drink more than is good for them and will spend some evenings that they would no doubt like to forget in the morning,” counseled her aunt.
“Unless it becomes a habit, I wouldn’t fret over a few harmless indiscretions, or chide him about them. Let him sow a few wild oats.”
“No doubt you know best, but I can’t help but be concerned.
” Alex couldn’t add that her fears for his safety had been heightened by what had occurred the night Branford had followed her.
If Justin was carousing around Town at all hours, the risks would become far greater for she had no doubt that whoever the enemy was, he would strike again.
But when?
“I wish that we could all leave London and go home,” she exclaimed in frustration. “Life would be less complicated there.”
Lady Beckworth gave her a long, searching look. “Justin is no longer a child, my dear. You can’t keep him under your wing forever. Neither of you would want that.”
Alex pressed her lips together. “Yes. I know.”
Lady Beckworth let the silence stretch on for a time. Then she spoke again. “Would you care to discuss what is really troubling you?”
Alex turned and made a show of carefully arranging her painting materials beside her palette. “What do you mean?”
“I know that you think I see no farther that the squiggles on the pages three inches from my nose. But I’m not entirely blind to the real world, nor am I completely in my dotage.” A concerned smile. “I simply haven’t wanted to pry.”
Alex’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, Aunt Aurelia, forgive me if I seem ungrateful,” she said softly, fighting back tears. “But I don’t really wish to speak about it.” She swallowed hard. “I assure you, I can deal with the matter on my own.”
“I won’t press you … but sometimes it can feel much better to share your troubles,” said Lady Beckworth. “You needn’t carry every burden by yourself”
To Alex’s relief, a knock on the door cut off the need to reply. “Come in,” she called.
The door swung open, but Justin remained in the corridor.
He was wearing a freshly pressed shirt and his starched cravat was tied neatly in place, but he still looked awful, thought Alex.
The haunted look in his eyes was accentuated by the bruise-dark shadows beneath them. In contrast, his face was ghostly pale.
“I won’t be here for supper,” he announced. “And I won’t be making an appearance at Lord and Lady Claridge’s rout.”
Alex and Lady Beckworth exchanged looks.
“And please don’t have anyone wait up for me. I shall let myself in by the scullery door.” Justin bobbed a quick bow. “Good evening”
The door closed softly.
Alex bit her lip. She knew to whom she would have turned to for advice—but that was, of course, impossible now.
After a moment of thought, it occurred to her that she might approach Lord Hammerton. He seemed to have taken an interest in Justin and had spoken with good sense on the dangers that might ensnare a young man new to Town.
A sigh. Perhaps she had been hasty in taking an instinctive dislike to him.
After all, he did appear to be a gentleman of taste and refinement.
His manners were perfectly polished … and she was almost certain that the voice she and Justin had overheard expressing concern over Branford’s behavior had been his.
Yes, talking to Hammerton might be a good idea.
Justin mounted the ornate marble steps of the fashionable townhouse and—after a brief hesitation to summon his courage—rapped the knocker on the door.
“Sir?” The butler looked up and down, his expression clearly conveying his opinion of those who called at such an unfashionable hour.
Pulling his calling card from his pocket, Justin handed it to the man. “Please inquire as to whether His Lordship will see me despite the hour. It’s most pressing.”
The butler returned shortly and beckoned for the young man to follow him.
Lord Ashton lay down his pen as Justin entered the library and regarded him with a grim look. “Well, what is it, Chilton?” he demanded “I’ve seen quite enough of your phiz to suit me for some time.”
Justin squared his shoulders. “Yes, milord, I have no doubt of that. I’m sorry to disturb you at home, but I couldn’t bear not knowing … that is, I wanted to know if you would tell me what word you have on … on Lord Branford’s condition?”
“A little late for recriminations,” admonished Ashton. His eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?” A chuffed snort. “Bloody hell, why should you care?”
Justin’s expression betrayed his inner turmoil. “I—I don’t understand Lord Branford’s actions … but I have come to believe that whatever honor demanded, it was not what took place the other morning.”
Ashton let out an exasperated sigh as he toyed with the silver inkwell on his desk. “I have been turned away every day—including twice today. Branford will admit no one. However, the physician says he should recover.”
Relief flooded Justin’s face. “I am truly glad to hear it. “ He looked up at Ashton. “I meant to miss,” he said softly. “But he moved …”
“Yes, well it appears Sebastian didn’t miss where he aimed,” snapped Ashton sarcastically. “By all rights, you should be lying with your toes cocked up for all your damn headstrong pride.”
“I am well aware of that, sir.” Justin dropped his gaze to the carpet beneath his boots to the floor. “I can’t blame you for thinking me a damnable fool—or worse—for my actions.”
He blew out a harried breath. “I … I don’t know quite what to think of myself. Everything that I’ve been taught to believe as a gentleman tells me I acted in the right, and that honor was served. And yet it feels very hollow—something inside me says I was wrong.”
He raked a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. “No doubt I sound like a complete sapskull, but even though it seems that he betrayed my trust in him, a part of me refuses to believe it is true.” The young man’s voice caught in his throat. “I wish I could understand it all.”
Ashton took a moment to light a cigar. He blew a thick cloud of smoke and watched the rings drift way slowly and dissolve into thin air.
“It takes courage to face a stranger and admit to feeling doubt and remorse—in fact, few men of my acquaintance—of any age or experience—would be that honest about their doubts.
Another puff-puff. “I see why you remind Sebastian of his cousin. That is a compliment by the way, in case you are tempted to give credence to one of the other filthy rumors. He cared very much for Jeremy.”
Justin’s gaze remained riveted to the floor.
In the next instant, the door opened without a knock.
“Oh! Forgive me, Henry, I didn’t realize you had company.” Cecilia Ashton swept into the room and stopped short. “Good evening, Mr. Chilton.” She eyed him with a sharp curiosity. It was an odd time to have visitors, especially one that was not on intimate terms with the family.
Justin bowed. “I was just taking my leave, Lady Ashton.” Then he turned back to his lordship. “Sir, if I may, I would like to be allowed to call again tomorrow to see if you have any further news.”
“Regarding what?” asked Lady Ashton. Very little escaped her notice and the tension in the room was palpable.
Justin colored. “Ah …”
Before Ashton could intercede, Lady Ashton fixed him with the expression of a hawk homing in on a sparrow. “Yes, Mr. Chilton? You were saying?”
“Ah …” The young man looked around helplessly.
Ashton closed his eyes in resignation.
“Ah … on Lord Branford’s condition,” stammered Justin.
Cecilia’s brows shot. “What is wrong with Sebastian?”
Justin looked at Ashton.
“Henry?”
When her husband didn’t answer, she turned back to Justin. He was no match for her piercing stare. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he cleared his throat.
“I’m afraid he’s been …well … shot.”
“Shot!” exclaimed Cecilia. She threw a withering look at her husband.
“Don’t blame me, my dear. I did everything in my power to stop it,” he mumbled, a defensive look on his harried face.
“And just when were you going to inform me of this?” Lady Ashton placed both hands on her hips. “Bloody, bloody hell, Henry—how is he?”
Lord Ashton winced. “Language, my dear,” he reminded, indicating their guest. “Umm, he should survive.”
“How in heavens name did this happen?”
Justin colored even more deeply. “I’m afraid I’m to blame,” he answered, unable to look her in the eyes. “I called him out.”
Her face flushed with emotion. “This is outrageous! Kindly explain yourself. Why the devil did you shoot one of our dearest friends?“
He took a deep breath. “As I have told your husband, I will not go into particulars, but Lord Branford … hurt my sister in the gravest possible manner, after giving me his word that he would not toy with her feelings.”
Cecilia went white. “I don’t believe it for an instant, Mr. Chilton.”
“Do you think I wish to believe it myself?” exclaimed Justin in a low, pained voice. “But he admitted it when confronted by my sister.”
“I think you must go into the particulars, sir, if we are to get to the bottom of this terrible accusation.”
Justin shot a confused look at Ashton. “It is not exactly something that can repeated in front of a lady,” he faltered.
“You may rest assured that Lady Ashton is difficult to shock,” said Ashton dryly. “When you enter the matrimonial state, you will understand.”
Justin still looked hesitant.
Cecilia laid a hand on his arm. “Mr. Chilton, you may rest assured that neither my husband nor myself engage in idle gossip. Your sister’s privacy is safe with us. And to fathom this disturbing situation, we really must know what has happened.” A pause. “We only want to help.”
Justin shuffled his feet. “Lord Branford entered a bet at his club. The wager was ￡500 that … that he could m-m-mount my sister.”
Cecilia gave a horrified gasp. “No! I don’t believe that for an instant! Sebastian would never have done such a thing. May I ask how you learned of it?”
“We overheard a private conversation. Between two gentlemen who were trying to decide just how to warn us.”
She shook her head. “Sebastian would never ruin an innocent girl. Never.”
“B-But when Alex asked him if it was true, he said yes!”
Cecilia frowned in thought. “There must be an explanation for it.”
“What possible explanation could there be for such a thing?” asked Justin, his voice rough with anguish.
“I don’t know.” She turned for the door. “But I intend to find out.
“W-What do you have in mind?” demanded Lord Ashton.
“Naturally I’m going to pay a visit to Sebastian.”
“He won’t let you in. I’ve already tried twice today.”
“Hmmph.” She gave a toss of her blond curls. “We’ll see about that.”
“Wait! If you insist on trying, I had better go with you”
“You will do no such thing, Henry.”
The door shut with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a slam.
Lord Ashton cast a baleful look at Justin. “I wish you better luck in managing a wife than I seem to have.”
For the first time in a while, a ghost of a smile stole to the young man’s lips.
“Lord Ashton, if you were acquainted with my sister, you would understand that I know exactly what you’re up against.”