Chapter Eighteen
Just when Ashlyn thought she wouldn’t be able to stand another ten minutes of Lady Ashbourne’s inane comments, the tea party ended.
Although there was no way one could really call that a party, as they often called them in America.
It had felt more like an ambush. While she did enjoy the cucumber sandwiches—she’d clearly overindulged, nearly devouring them all, as well as the delicious egg sandwiches.
In fact, she felt so sated that she could probably skip luncheon.
While Mrs. Dove-Lyon didn’t contribute to the tension during the tea, she didn’t try to help much, either.
After her initial questions, she mostly sat there, content to let Lady Ashbourne pepper Ashlyn with questions about Boston and her brief visit to London.
Ashlyn couldn’t help but feel the older woman’s shrewd gaze on her, as though she could somehow read her mind.
Based on the questions Lady Ashbourne and her irritating daughter had asked, it had become abundantly clear that her friendship with Gabriel was at the heart of the issue.
It was as though the women were fishing for information.
Clearly—as if any confirmation were necessary—the house party was merely Lady Ashbourne’s clever ruse to bring Lord Ravensthorpe and Lady Paula together.
Ashlyn was also certain that her initial suspicions had been correct: Her aunt’s letter to Mrs. Dove-Lyon had, of course, been intended to secure a noble match for Elizabeth, which was yet another reason Ashlyn could never hope for a future with Gabriel.
Perhaps Mrs. Dove-Lyon had believed Gabriel and Elizabeth would make a good match.
But little did either woman know that Lady Ashbourne and Lady Paula had other ideas.
Ashlyn’s heart twisted at the thought of Gabriel married to Lady Paula. Given what a shrieking shrew the woman was, Gabriel would have a miserable life.
After their tea, Ashlyn made her way through the main hall toward the central staircase to return to her room.
As she walked, the hair at the back of her neck prickled, and she noticed blatantly obvious stares from several of the guests, making her more and more uncomfortable.
The closer she got to the staircase, the more her hackles went up at clusters of men and women who were gaping at her or whispering and pointing.
A few were reading from what looked to be torn pages from a journal…
“Imagine thinking the trees and grasses were whispering to you,” one woman said in a snide tone.
“Ha! More like laughing,” another said, her intentionally loud comment followed by several boisterous laughs.
Whispering trees and grasses? Oh no! Her stomach dropped, and a wave of heat surged up her neck and into her face until she was sure everyone could see her embarrassment.
Sweat beaded at her brow. The laughter and insults seemed to amplify, and the walls of the room appeared to expand and contract, as if everyone were shouting and whispering at the same time.
Ashlyn suddenly felt sick; she wanted to run, to hide, disappear—anything, but she couldn’t remain here.
Someone had found her diary. And they were sharing it with everyone.
It was her worst nightmare. She’d always taken such great care to keep her innermost thoughts to herself, and now they were being discussed so crassly out in the open, it was as though they’d been printed in the Ton Tattler for all to read.
And then it got worse as several gasps and exclamations assaulted her ears as she finally reached the banister.
“Not only is she a vapid, stupid American, but she’s a liar too! She’s pretending to be her cousin, Miss Elizabeth Vickers, the daughter of one of the richest Americans.”
More shocked and angry gasps from every side came at her.
“How dare she inflict herself on our gathering?”
“She’s nothing but a fraud! A pretender!”
“She’s a nobody…”
“I’m not a nobody,” Ashlyn cried to herself. “I’m the daughter of a kind and talented physician and his wife.”
“It must be an American failing, but it seems quite forward to declare herself in love with someone far above her station,” another sarcastic female voice said.
“And knowing she was lying to Lord Ravensthorpe the entire time! She’s actually the daughter of a lowly country doctor, and her name is Ashlyn March! The utter gall…”
Ashlyn froze, recognizing the woman’s voice. Gripping the banister for support, she slowly turned and met the vicious gaze of Lady Paula, whose ruthless smile told Ashlyn everything she needed to know.
She did this! That’s why she left the tea party so early…
Pain shot through Ashlyn’s chest so intensely that she would have stumbled had she not been hanging on to the newel post.
Her hand went to her heart, and she took a deep breath to steady herself.
Had this happened back home, or had she been outside in the woods, far away from the public, she would have tackled the bitch and ripped her hair out.
But she couldn’t. Not here. Not in front of so many people who could spread even more vicious gossip that could have terrible consequences for Elizabeth, and her aunt and uncle’s reputation. Not to mention Gabriel’s reputation and that of his own family. Hadn’t they suffered enough?
Ashlyn was determined to escape to her room and speak to Alice about what had happened.
But as she spun away from Paula’s cold, cruel, triumphant look, her eyes met Gabriel’s.
He had just come in from his morning ride.
His dark hair was wind-blown, his cheeks ruddy from his recent exercise.
But it was his eyes that tore into Ashlyn’s soul.
They were a dark, stormy gray—flashing shock, disbelief, and anger all in quick succession before livid anger settled on his face.
Of course, he’s furious with me. He can’t abide lies, and I deceived him about who I was… I’ve lost him.
Whatever affection and attraction Gabriel might have felt for her had been destroyed in one fell swoop; of that she was certain.
But while his jaw was set, she noticed he stared beyond her, and she paused a moment to turn around. He was staring at Lady Paula, who was wearing a fake-innocent look.
“You’ve got it wrong, my lady. She never declared herself to him. She wrote she loves him in her book,” another female voice said, before bursting into peals of laughter.
Ashlyn refused to turn around again. She could no longer remain there. Not one more second. She had to leave. Her vision blurred with tears of humiliation and heartbreak, and she ran up the stairs as fast as she could.
As she reached the second-floor landing, she saw Mrs. Dove-Lyon exiting her room.
“I must ask a favor of you, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Something unforeseen has happened, and I must leave as soon as possible,” she said, swiping her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand.
“M-may I borrow your carriage? I promise to send it back as soon as I arrive.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon looked at her with a clear and direct gaze. “Miss Vickers, you should rethink this,” she said firmly. “I know what happened. I know how difficult this must be for you. But one should always face down a bully; never run from them.”
“That m-may be true. But I cannot do it…not now.”
“Is there no way I can convince you to face Lady Paula?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.
Ashlyn shook her head. “No, ma’am. It is best for the people I care about if I leave.”
The older woman opened her mouth to speak, but Ashlyn blurted, “If I cannot access your carriage, I’ll steal a horse from the stables, if necessary.” She needed to disappear and was willing to do whatever it took.
“There is no need for that, my dear.” The older woman heaved a sigh of understanding. “You can use my carriage. Tell the stable master you have my explicit permission. If I were already packed, I’d be tempted to leave with you. Where are you going? London?”
“No, ma’am. I’m going back to Ravenswood to collect the rest of my things.
And then to London. I will have to wait for my aunt and uncle at the hotel.
But I plan on booking passage back to America as soon as I am able.
” Ashlyn could not leave England without saying goodbye to dear Lady Ravensthorpe and to darling Caro and the kind household staff.
Nor could she book passage and return to America without speaking to her aunt and uncle first. They had been so generous to her, and she would not hurt or offend them by fleeing in the dark of night just because of her own foolish pride.
Hopefully, when she returned to London, she would find a letter from Elizabeth waiting for her, and her aunt and uncle already there.
“Is there truly no way I can persuade you to face Lady Paula Ashbourne?” the older woman persisted.
Ashlyn gave a subtle shake of her head. “I must go,” she said, fleeing to her room.
“Alice, we need to pack,” Ashlyn said a few moments later, as she burst into her room. “We have to leave at once.”
“Miss, someone broke into the room, and they stole…they stole…” Alice’s voice tapered off as she blinked back tears.
“My diary—yes, I know,” Ashlyn said, trying stoically not to cry again.
Reaching for Alice’s hand, she added, “Lady Paula did it—all of it. She disappeared from the tea party, obviously knowing I would be occupied for a while. And stole into my room and did this… Then she tore pages out of the diary and passed them around for all to read. I could live down the embarrassment, but Gabriel heard Paula speak of my lying to him about who I was. And despite how cold and cruel she was, his face held such anger.” Her voice cracked.
“She destroyed my life,” she continued as she helped Alice pack up her trunk—or rather, Alice was packing in her usual efficient way, while Ashlyn was throwing things in willy-nilly.
“Speak to His Lordship, miss. Tell him everything,” Alice urged as she refolded what Ashlyn had thrown into the trunk. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He cares for you. He’ll make everything right.”
“No. He knows I lied. The others here at the party—they were passing the pages around, reading passages aloud. Alice, I wrote that I love him.” Tears streamed down Ashlyn’s face once again, and emotion clogged her throat.
“I’m ruined. We must leave… But it won’t be easy, as they were all gathered around the stairs. ”
“Don’t worry, miss. I know how to avoid those harpies,” Alice said as she shut the trunk and locked it. “We’ll leave through the servants’ stairs. It’s quicker and will take us to the door leading out to the stables. I’ll just ring for a footman—”
“No. We’ll carry the trunk ourselves. We just need some rope.
” Ashlyn looked around the room and spotted two lengths of strong corded fabric used as curtain tiebacks.
“These will do,” she said, untying them and holding them up.
The back steps are steeper, so we can slide the trunk.
And where we can’t, we’ll improvise using the ropes,” Ashlyn said. “American ingenuity. We can do this.”
Alice nodded as they looped the rope through the metal handles together.
Hefting the trunk, they left the room, with Alice leading the way.
Surprisingly, they were able to make it to the stables unseen.
Luckily, the stable master was a kind older man whom Alice had befriended.
With the assistance of Mrs. Dove Lyon’s driver, the two men hoisted the trunk onto the back of the carriage and secured it after assisting Ashlyn and Alice aboard.
As their carriage was driving down the long, winding drive toward the main road, they passed another carriage just arriving.
“Was that another person arriving at the house party? Did they mention more were coming?” Alice asked, distractedly.
Ashlyn paid the new arrival barely any heed as she settled back against the upholstered seats and closed her eyes, trying to calm her pounding heart.
“No. And I don’t care who is coming. I just want to leave.
” This had been the worst day of her life, and all she wanted to do was escape and pretend—if that were even possible—that this whole week had never happened.
She’d never forget Gabriel’s eyes when he saw her on the stairwell.
If she’d harbored any hope of their possibly having a future together, it had died right there.