Chapter 25
SCANDAL (ALSO KNOWN AS REALLY BAD GOSSIP)
Scandals don’t always begin in the drawing rooms of the ton.
They don’t always begin by ladies eager to share their rival’s latest mishap.
In London, the best of scandals became public knowledge on the society pages of the London Gazette.
The ton, it was believed, had a mole. A person within its ranks who consistently shared all of the latest on-dits with K. Carmichael, gossip columnist at large.
The morning after the Ravensdale ball, the paper flaunted plenty of fodder. The most scandalous of which read as follows:
A young Mr. J—S—, who celebrated his betrothal just last evening, has aligned himself with a family who is hiding more than one skeleton.
The prospective bride’s stepmamma has acted both lawlessly and scandalously.
The apparently sweet Lady B is not nearly as innocent and sweet as she has appeared all season.
This reporter has discovered that the lady was not the first sister to marry Miss G—B—’s esteemed father.
Not only is Lady B the stepmamma to the young miss, but she is her auntie as well, which makes the marriage not only illegal but practically incestuous!
And if the marriage was illegal, then Lady B is not really Lady B at all, is she?
A very pleased Glenda Beauchamp arose for breakfast the morning following the ball excitedly expecting to read about herself in the high-profile society pages of the exceedingly popular London Gazette.
The grandest ball of the season had been thrown in her honor, after all.
Would there be descriptions of her hair?
Her betrothal gown? The grace with which she had waltzed with her handsome fiancé?
She had shears beside her so she could cut out the article and save it in her memory book.
Within moments, however, the entire household knew something had gone amiss.
For a piercing scream horrifically disrupted the peace of the entire household.
The newly betrothed lady screamed and ranted and raved in a hysterical fit, for what felt like hours to all of the servants. Glenda’s lungs were powerful, indeed.
Lilly and Lady Eleanor rushed downstairs in their dressing gowns expecting to find no less than a bloodied corpse on the breakfast room floor.
The shears were not plunged into a dead body, though. No, they were standing straight up in the center of the table.
Upon seeing Lilly, Glenda’s shrieks turned into ugly words.
Holding the paper toward Lilly, gesturing toward the article, she shouted, “I hate you! You have ruined my life! He will cry off now, for certain! How could you? I hate you! I hate you! Who did you tell? You promised me you would tell no one! It was to remain a secret!” She went on and on and on.
Lilly grabbed the paper with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She had thought Lord Hawthorne had given up on her.
He hadn’t spoken a word to her since that first evening.
She read it through twice, fearing for the social standing of both her aunt and Glenda even more the second time.
Collapsing, she sat down on one of the high-backed cushioned seats around the table.
Surely the man was mad? What could Hawthorne accomplish with this?
What would it all mean?
“Damned jackals,” Aunt Eleanor said. “They’re all a bunch of jackals.” Aunt Eleanor threw the paper on the table. “And you, girl, be quiet!” Aunt Eleanor never yelled.
Thank God, Glenda went silent.
Both Lilly and Glenda looked to Aunt Eleanor to say something, anything, which would explain the dreadful article and silence Glenda’s awful fears.
“Lilly, expect visitors today, I imagine. We shall discover exactly what Mr. Joseph Spencer is made of. And Glenda, you had best put cucumbers on your eyes so they aren’t bloodshot and swollen when your fiancé presents himself.”
This statement drew a wail from Glenda.
“Don’t start that again. If I know that family, and I do, an article such as this won’t be cause for anything drastic. My guess is young Joseph will come to reassure you. So get yourself repaired.” At that, Glenda dashed out of the room.
Turning to Lilly, Aunt Eleanor added, “That young Danbury needs to step up to the plate now as well. If his attentions were worth anything, it’s a fine time for him to offer you his protection.”
“Surely there is no need?” she asked her aunt helplessly.
“There is every need.” Gesturing toward the article lying on the table, her aunt suddenly looked much older than she had the day before.
“This sort of folderol can only be forgotten if you receive a very strong show of support.” And then, rubbing her hand on her forehead, “Hopefully, Josephine and Broderick see past this.”
Lilly dropped her head back hopelessly. Danbury would no more offer for her than Michael had. “What have I done?” she said again.
Aunt Eleanor shook her head. “I will send a note round to Danbury. It can only be hoped his attentions to you were in earnest.”
“No!” Lilly said, her fist pressed against her mouth. She could not do it. Even if Danbury were to offer for her, she would not marry again.
She was so close to freedom.
How could she give her person over to a man for any reason other than love? Not everyone realized the magnitude of what a woman gave up when she married. If women knew what she knew, daresay there would be fewer marriages.
The viscount had been pleasant and friendly. He had acted the perfect gentleman, never once giving Lilly cause to doubt his motives or intentions. But she did not know him. She did not know his heart.
She could not do it.
She would not do it.
Just then Jarvis entered the room and addressed his mistress. “The Countess of Ravensdale is awaiting you in the drawing room. She says you are expecting her.”
Lilly and Eleanor looked at each other forebodingly. This was not the visit of a young man wishing to reassure his intended.
They rose and smoothed their skirts.
Entering the drawing room, they found the countess pacing back and forth. Her mouth pinched, worry clouding her eyes.
Lady Eleanor let out a loud sigh and then gestured toward the sofa. “I think we should have a seat, don’t you, Josephine?”
Lady Ravensdale nodded graciously.
Lilly wanted to rush to speak, to deny the contents of the article. But she could not claim to be innocent. The information was true. Lady Eleanor spoke first.
“I suppose you are here to discuss that bedamned article.”
“Oh, Eleanor,” Lady Ravensdale said. “This is horrible, absolutely horrible.” And then she paused.
“Broderick and Joseph are in violent disagreement with each other. Joseph had intended to come over here at once, but that blasted stubborn husband of mine would not allow it. This business with the Corn Laws has him coiled like a snake.”
She addressed her longtime friend, Lady Eleanor.
Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “He told Joseph, considering the circumstances, it would not be dishonorable for him to cry off. The vote on Cortland’s amendment is to be held tomorrow morning, and Broderick is beside himself.
They’ve worked on it for months now, and he insists we absent ourselves from any possible scandal.
” Dabbing at her eyes, she continued, “Joseph is enraged. His father has threatened to cut off his funds if he defies him on this.” She sniffed.
“I daresay, it has not been a pleasant morning.”
Lady Eleanor squeezed her hand reassuringly.
Lilly felt herself being backed into a corner.
“I’ll send a note round to Danbury. If he affords Lilly the protection of his name, I think we can ward off a great deal of fallout.
” Lady Eleanor could be very practical when matters called for it.
“It’s important we show a united front. The last thing we need now is a groom crying off.
What’s that damn fool of your husband thinking? ”
Lady Ravensdale rose her eyebrows at the older woman’s comments and then grimaced. “I’m afraid all he is thinking about right now is that amendment.”
Lilly’s chest tightened. She couldn’t seem to get enough air. The walls were closing in on her. Surely Danbury would not make an offer. And if he did, there was no way she could accept.
Except that everyone would expect her to.
This could not be happening!
The blood in her veins turned ice cold. She had escaped marriage once. Most likely, she would not be so lucky a second time. Memories of her husband’s hands clawing at her in the darkness roared through her mind. Vicious words rung in her ears.
She could not.
She could not do it again.
The memory of her father demanding she marry Lord Beauchamp taunted her. Guilt pressed in. He was dying! It was her duty as his daughter! Her mother quietly crying in the corner.
She would not consent to such a marriage again. She needed to escape. She needed to think. “Please excuse me.” She burst to her feet.
Both women gaped at her.
But she could make no excuses. Lilly hastened from the room and, without retrieving her pelisse, fetching a chaperone, or even Miss Fussy, she exited the front door with no particular destination in mind.
The weather was spectacular that morning, the cloudless sky the color of lapis.
Halfway through the month of May, flowers bloomed all around her.
In a haze of anger and adrenaline, she walked aimlessly down Curzon Street and eventually found herself in the park.
Not having any idea which paths led where, she disappeared into the greenery.
A very different scene played out in a masculine household that same morning. An occasional moan interrupted an abundance of quiet. The effects of downing large quantities of scotch the night before had the occupants reeling.