Chapter 15 #3
“I just hate keeping things from anybody. It doesn’t sit well with my conscience.”
“Do you want to go back to Norfolk and sit in the parlor with Dorian reading improving Bible verses to you while Father snores in his chair?” Carenza asked. “Because if you don’t have me to chaperone you in London, that’s where you’ll end up.”
“Then I will stay quiet.” Allegra adopted a martyred air.
“I promise that if anything bad does happen, I will publicly proclaim your innocence to the entire world,” Carenza said.
“And tell me I was right all along?”
Carenza gave her a speaking look as the butler came into the drawing room.
“Good afternoon, my lady.” He bowed. “The Earl of Landon and Mr. Laurent are asking if you are at home.”
“Please send them up, and bring some refreshments,” Carenza said.
Julian came in first, his expression unreadable, his manners as perfect as ever when he bowed and kissed her hand. “Lady Carenza.”
“Mr. Laurent.” Carenza regarded him carefully.
Was he still cross about her refusal to stay at his town house? It seemed unlikely. He was a pragmatic man who maintained a cool distance between himself and the rest of the world. On reflection, he must have realized that she was right to maintain their distance as well.
“Lady Carenza.” Aragon bowed. “You’re looking very beautiful today, ma’am—not quite as pretty as Miss Cartwright, but far more elegant.”
“Miss Cartwright?” Carenza looked from Aragon to his brother.
“Yes, Julian’s taken me with him this morning, and I’ve met so many interesting people.”
“Why—?”
“Aragon, could you help Lady Allegra with the tea while I have a quick chat with Lady Carenza?”
“Yes, of course.” Aragon went over to Allegra, who had sat down beside the tray of tea and cakes the butler had just brought in. “I’m quite peckish.”
Julian moved over to the far window, and Carenza followed him.
“Aragon brought my attention to an article in the morning paper about me,” Julian said quietly. “Whoever wrote it knew about my involvement with the Cartwrights and Mrs. Mountjoy and insinuated that I was involved in child prostitution and damaging young lives.”
“That’s horrible.” Carenza instinctively reached out to touch him but quickly withdrew her hand when he gave her a somewhat cool look. “I assume you went to warn them?”
“Yes. Although they were both far more sanguine about such accusations than me. In truth, they told me not to pursue the culprit and to allow the matter to drop.”
“And do you intend to do that?”
“Of course not.” He paused. “I fear it is yet another attempt by Walcott to blacken my reputation.”
“I would agree.” Carenza nodded. “The trouble is that unless Walcott admits to writing that article himself, there is very little I can do legally to hold him to account.”
“I’m so sorry.” She held his gaze. “You don’t deserve this.”
“Thank you, but I didn’t come here for sympathy. I came to warn you.”
Carenza’s breath caught. “Am I mentioned in the article?”
“No, but if I’ve been seen at the Cartwrights’, and particularly at Mrs. Mountjoy’s, then it’s possible you’ve been seen there, too.”
“Then Mrs. Mountjoy’s is no longer a safe place for us to meet,” Carenza said.
“Exactly.”
“Which is remarkably frustrating.”
He didn’t reply. His gaze had gone beyond her to the pile of letters on the desk.
“What are those?”
Carenza moved hastily to stand between him and the offending evidence. “Nothing that should concern you. I was just about to put them on the fire.”
“What has happened?”
“As I said, nothing—”
“Carenza,” he interrupted sharply.
“As you’ve probably guessed, they are replies to the advertisement. It appears that the story has spread, somewhat, around the country.”
Julian briefly closed his eyes. “Good God, woman.”
“Don’t you start.” Carenza stepped close to him. “I’ve already argued with Olivia and worried Allegra. I don’t need your recriminations.”
“You argued with Mrs. Sheraton?”
“Yes. She made some assertions about my lack of backbone, and I told her she was wrong and that she shouldn’t have flirted with my husband.”
“Ah, a comprehensive airing of your opinions.”
“You could say that.” Carenza raised her chin. “She can be incredibly dismissive of me sometimes, and I’d just had enough.”
“Are you talking about Olivia?” Allegra approached Julian with a cup of tea in her hand.
“The trouble with Olivia is that she is more than happy to tell everyone what she thinks and yet is not amenable to being told when her own conduct is reprehensible.” She smiled fondly at Carenza.
“I was glad to see you standing up for yourself.”
Carenza went to sit down, and Julian followed her.
A growing knot of anxiety settled low in her stomach as she considered all the implications of the latest news.
Not only was she in danger of being exposed as the lady who put an advertisement in a newspaper for a lover, but her relationship with Julian might become common knowledge as well.
His fingers closed around her clenched fist, buried in the folds of her skirt, and teased it free. She yearned to turn her head, bury her face against his chest, and let the long-held tears come. Nothing had gone right since she’d placed that ridiculous advertisement.
“Aragon,” Allegra said. “Would you mind coming down to the stables with me? My mare has strained her right forelock, and I’d value your opinion on how to treat her.”
“I’d be delighted.” Aragon set his tea to one side and glanced over at Julian as he stood up. “Don’t leave without me.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Julian said.
Allegra paused beside Carenza. “I can guarantee we’ll be at least half an hour, sister.”
Julian caught her eye. “Thank you.”
She nodded and left the room.
Julian waited until the door closed behind Allegra and Aragon and took possession of Carenza’s other hand as well.
“Please don’t upset yourself.”
“But I feel responsible for all of this,” Carenza said.
“Not all of it.”
She tried to smile, but he could see the anxiety in her eyes. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t absolve me of all the blame.”
“What are friends for?” He leaned in and gently kissed her cheek. “I promise you I will do my best to avert a scandal for either of us.”
“But you have done nothing wrong.” Carenza looked at him. “And you are not responsible for sorting out my terrible blunders.”
“As you well know, society doesn’t always allow facts to hinder their enjoyment of salacious gossip,” Julian said. “And, as our fortunes are inextricably linked at this moment, I suspect we’ll need to support each other.”
“I’ll defend you to my dying breath.”
“Thank you, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He hesitated. “I need you to be honest with me. If anything changes, I need to know about it immediately.”
She nodded, her expression formal. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
“We are a family used to scandal and being the subject of gossip,” Carenza said. “I learned from my parents to rise above it—in public at least. You should hear my father’s private opinion of some of his friends’ behavior toward my mother. But he is always a gentleman when he comes to London.”
“I must admit my first instinct was to visit my solicitor, but wiser counsel than mine has advised me not to pursue that route,” Julian admitted. “I’m fairly certain Walcott is behind these rumors, but how he obtained the information about my activities I do not know.”
“It wouldn’t be hard to pay someone to follow you about,” Carenza said. “You are one of the most recognizable rakes in town.”
He noticed she was still holding on to his hand and that for once he didn’t mind.
“That’s true. I think after I leave you, a visit to Mr. Cox is in order. I need to make sure that he understands our prior arrangement.”
“Do you think he’s the source of the leaks?”
“It’s highly likely.”
“Or perhaps it’s his daughter, who is employed by Olivia. She might have been seen at the inn and offered bribes,” Carenza said slowly. “She might even have spoken to Olivia about the matter.”
“You don’t think Mrs. Sheraton is in on it?” Julian raised an eyebrow.
“She is enjoying the scandal far too much for my liking, and she is the one who brought the letters here this morning.” Carenza made a face. “It probably wasn’t the best of times to argue with her.”
“I don’t think she’d hurt you out of spite,” Julian said. “Do you?”
She met his gaze. “I honestly don’t know anymore. She’s been behaving rather oddly lately. Both Allegra and I have noticed it.”
Julian made a mental note to visit Mrs. Sheraton, but he wasn’t foolish enough to mention it to Carenza.
“I hate all this uncertainty,” Carenza said. “I feel as if my life has been paused, and I don’t like it.”
He could only agree. As a man who liked to be in control, the actions of others threatening his reputation and people he cared about was infuriating.
“Do you have any friends in common with Mr. Walcott?” Carenza asked.
“Hardly. Everyone was forced to pick sides after Percival took me to court.”
“He’s pleasant enough to Aragon, isn’t he?” Carenza visibly brightened. “Perhaps—”
Julian spoke over her. “I’m not sure my brother has the ability to dissemble.”
“I think you’d be surprised what he’d do for you.” Carenza was watching him closely. “Surely it wouldn’t hurt to ask?”
“I’ll consider it.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’m more invested in finding somewhere we can be alone.”
She blushed rather prettily. “I agree. I thought you were organizing a house party at your country estate?”
“I am.” He stood up and bowed to her. “I can assure you that your presence is a given.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She paused. “I miss you.”
He pretended to groan. “Don’t make things … hard for me.”
Her gaze dropped to his breeches. “It’s difficult not to.”
“I’m leaving.” He gave her a serious stare. “I’ll collect Aragon on my way.”
Five minutes into their carriage journey, Aragon cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking.”
Julian raised an encouraging eyebrow.
“About Walcott,” Aragon said. “He’s always been very pleasant to me.” He paused. “Seemed to think we were kindred spirits or something.”
“He assumes you were as put out about me inheriting a fortune as he was.”
“Why would I be?” Aragon looked genuinely surprised. “I was delighted. When Mother complained, I told her I wouldn’t have to continue your allowance or take care of you in your dotage.”
“How astute of you.”
“And you’re my brother,” Aragon continued. “And I always want the best for you.” He paused. “I’ve always thought it unfair that the oldest son gets the lot, you know.”
“Have you?” It was Julian’s turn to be surprised.
“Good Lord, yes. Now, back to Walcott. I could talk to him for you.” Aragon looked inquiringly at his brother. “Ask him what’s going on and whatnot.”
“I think you’d have to be less … direct than that.”
“How so?”
“In order to gain his trust, I suspect he’d have to believe you agreed with him about me—and that any schemes he was running to discredit me would have your backing.”
Aragon frowned and went quiet, his gaze falling to his boots. “You mean I’d have to deceive him as to my true intent?”
“Yes.”
When Aragon didn’t speak, Julian hastened to continue. The thought of his brother inadvertently blundering into the potential scandal of Carenza’s advertisement was horrifying.
“It’s all right. I don’t expect you to—”
“Like a spy?”
“I suppose so.” Julian regarded his brother somewhat dubiously. “It is of no matter, brother.”
“If I pretended to agree with Walcott, he might boast about his plans for you,” Aragon said. “And then I could tell you, and we could face him together and force him to desist or lose his own reputation.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’ll do it!” Aragon slapped his thigh. “Can’t have that weasel undermining my brother’s reputation.” They were rapidly approaching Landon House. Aragon put on his hat as the carriage slowed and made ready to leave. “Don’t worry, Julian. I’ll report back as soon as I’ve spoken to him.”
“Aragon, please don’t. …” Julian spoke to empty air as his brother leapt out of the carriage and slammed the door behind him.
Julian sat back, his mind in a whirl. He’d never expected Aragon to initiate a conversation about Walcott.
Had Lady Allegra put him up to it, or had it sprung from his genuine concern for his little brother?
Julian had the unnerving sensation that things were spiraling out of his control again, and he didn’t like it one bit.