Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As Lord Seabury approached the billiards table, Marco motioned at the set of implements hanging on the wall to the right of the table.
“Maces or cues?”
Lord Seabury considered the question for a moment as the other three men in the room all lit cigars and poured brandies.
“Cues.”
Marco retrieved one of the cues and idly rolled the smooth, glossy wood of the stick back and forth between his palms as he mulled over what had occurred since he’d arrived at the Bellingham Park house party.
Something about the introduction between Lady Eugenia and Lady Catherine nagged at Marco.
He had been expecting a much warmer welcome from Lady Eugenia after the way that she had treated him the last time they had seen each other at Lady Duncan’s Ball.
Why had she seemed so stiff and stilted today?
Even over the rather dull dinner, she hadn’t looked at him once.
Were his hopes to be shattered, after all?
He blew out a sigh and chewed on his bottom lip, then chanced a sideways glance at Lord Seabury.
“Was your journey to Bellingham Park a pleasant one, Lord Seabury?”
Neville hummed and cocked his head, glancing at each man occupying the room before he returned to Marco, as if considering his words very carefully before he spoke, based on just who might overhear.
“Pleasant enough.” Lord Seabury shrugged and lifted his own cue out of the rack on the wall to the right of the billiards table.
He paused long enough to line up his initial shot on one of the two white cue balls and take it, sending the red target ball rocketing around the table, though he didn’t manage to sink it in one of the table’s pockets. “Why?”
Marco grimaced.
“Lady Eugenia seemed a bit... out of sorts just now. I wondered if perhaps your trip here was unpleasant, or if it was something else entirely?”
Lord Seabury arched a brow at Marco and let out a low whistle.
“You don’t know, then?”
Marco’s gut knotted with anxiety as he lined up his own shot on the other cue ball and took it. Unfortunately, the angle was off, and he didn’t manage to sink the target ball, either.
“What don’t I know?”
Neville glanced across the room, eyeing the group of men in the corner, who were smoking and talking amongst themselves. He stepped closer to Marco, then, clearly not wishing to be overheard.
“You haven’t seen The Society Reporter recently?”
Marco snorted and shook his head.
“I don’t read gossip sheets. I’ve found that the best way to frustrate gossips is to ignore them completely.”
“In this case, you may very well want to give it a look. There was a bit of an incident at Lady Duncan’s Ball after you left so abruptly.
It… well, it didn’t look good for Lady Eugenia, so much so — in fact — that The Society Reporter printed a rather scathing article about it. Lady Eugenia was devastated.”
White-hot rage boiled up inside Marco. It took every ounce of self-control that he possessed to keep from snapping Lord Bellingham’s billiards cue in half over his knee.
“They named her?”
Neville shook his head.
“They didn’t have to. Everyone who was there knows exactly who they were referring to.”
Marco winced.
“What on Earth happened after I left?”
Just as Seabury opened his mouth to answer, Lord Greywood swaggered over to where they stood beside the billiards table.
“Are you going to stand around and talk all night, or are you going to play?”
“You’re welcome to play if you like. I need a drink anyway.”
Marco set aside his cue, poured himself a brandy, and downed it in a single slug.
No wonder Lady Eugenia had seemed so stiff this afternoon.
He needed to get his hands on a copy of the article which had upset her, so that he could assess whether he was in a position where he could do something to set the situation to rights.
That thought was interrupted when he overheard Greywood speaking to Seabury.
“You know, I couldn’t help overhearing that last bit of your conversation with Lord D’Asti.”
Lord Greywood took aim at the cue ball and struck it, successfully sinking the target ball on his very first try. Marco waited, wondering what would be said next.
Lord Rosebury straightened up and strode over to join Seabury and Greywood at the billiards table, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
“Lady Bellingham seems to have invited several young ladies who’ve been subjected to ridicule recently.”
Something about the gleam in Lord Rosebury’s eyes and the slightest hint of mockery in his voice grated on Marco’s nerves. His head spun and his stomach rolled tempestuously as the alcohol he’d belted back hit him all at once. He moved to join them, his lip curling with disgust and irritation.
I must put an end to this line of discussion, and quickly.
Not thinking all that clearly, Marco barked out a laugh and shook his head.
“Well, I must say that it seems a bit silly to me for anyone to get so upset by a foolish little gossip sheet. People would be much better off just to ignore rumours entirely, rather than allowing them to cause so much unnecessary chaos and strife.”
The other men in the room all stared at Marco with raised eyebrows and wide eyes, as if no one could quite believe what he’d just said, then a cascade of varying reactions followed.
Lord Seabury sucked in a surprised breath and pressed his lips together tightly, as if -- perhaps -- he wished that Marco had just kept his mouth shut.
Lord Bellingham coughed uncomfortably and looked away, as if he didn’t quite know how to respond, or how their conversation had become so wildly out of hand that he had absolutely no idea what he might do to reel it back in, so he did nothing instead.
Lord Rosebury watched everyone else in the room with keen interest. Lord Greywood stared directly at Marco, lifting his chin as he met Marco’s gaze.
“Of course, one cannot expect a fellow like Lord D’Asti to have any kind of consideration for the consequences that fall on women -- and sometimes men too -- because of rumours and gossip.
After all, it’s no secret that he tried to leverage rumours to force Lord Seabury’s lovely wife into marrying him. ”
The whole room went utterly still and silent, as if everyone had forgotten to breathe, save for Lord Greywood.
He simply lined up another shot on the billiards table and sunk the target ball once again, as if to emphasise his point.
Greywood was throwing down the gauntlet, though Marco wasn’t sure why.
He was, however, more than up to the challenge of taking Lord Greywood on.
“I deeply regret that my past mistakes caused Lady Seabury distress, but I assure you that they are just that: in the past. You would do well to choose your next words carefully, Lord Greywood.”
“Or what?”
Greywood’s words were a sneer, as he stepped closer to Marco, clearly spoiling for a fight.
“Now, now, gentlemen. Let’s try to keep things civil, shall we? Otherwise this house party might become quite tiresome long before its end.”
Lord Bellingham’s voice quavered a bit, as if he was pleading with the men to keep cool heads, rather than demanding that they behave as guests should in his home.
Marco was willing to cede to the host’s request, turning his back on Lord Greywood and preparing to go and light a cigar, hoping that it would calm his nerves.
“Coward.”
Greywood spat the challenge at Marco’s retreating back. The Count whirled around, surging back to where Greywood stood.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me, Lord D’Asti, but I’ll say it again.
You’re a coward, and that’s the most complimentary name I can think to call you.
You’re a self-centred, penniless, gold-digging, spineless cad.
Not only did you attempt to use the rumours and gossip you sneer at now to force an advantageous marriage with Lady Seabury, but I think that you’re also doing the same thing with Lady Eugenia and Lady Catherine now, courting both in a desperate bid to save your own skin, and caring nothing for the consequences of toying with both their affections.
They are both far too good for the likes of you.
Why, for all we know, you might have supplied The Society Reporter with the gossip about Lady Eugenia in the hope that you might be able to leverage those rumours, too. ”
“That’s a lie!”
Marco raised his fists, ready to beat Lord Greywood to a pulp, despite the fact that he could see Lord Seabury standing behind Greywood, shaking his head. Seabury’s expression was a silent plea to Marco. Don’t lose your temper, my friend.
As Lord Greywood raised his fists, as well, Lord Seabury forcibly inserted himself between them, putting a hand on each of their chests and pushing them apart. He held them at arms’ length, and glanced back and forth between them. First, he glared at Marco and spoke.
“You need to get a grip on your temper, my friend. This gentleman is obviously trying to goad you. Why rise to the occasion? You’re better than this, D’Asti.
” Then, Seabury turned his admonishing gaze on Lord Greywood and spoke to him.
“Lord D’Asti apologised to my wife, and she accepted his apology.
D’Asti clearly made a mistake, yes, but that mistake has been forgiven.
All that mess is behind us now, and we are all good friends despite our rocky start.
I do not appreciate you dredging up matters which are better left alone and forgotten. ”
Lord Greywood jerked out of Seabury’s grasp and took a half-step away from him, sneering at Seabury’s attempt to defuse the situation.
“How lovely that must be for the lot of you, but not everyone forgives so easily, Seabury.”
With that, Lord Greywood turned on his heel and stormed out of the billiards room.
“Well… that was certainly the most interesting start to a house party that I’ve ever been privy to.” Lord Seabury murmured, giving Marco an awkward pat on the back in a valiant but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to soothe him. “But let us hope that the worst is over now.”
Marco shivered and shook his head. If tonight was anything to judge by, Lord Greywood’s troublemaking was far from over.
Even worse, Lord Rosebury had watched the entire exchange with keen interest, and his expression was one of barely contained glee.
Despite Lord Seabury’s attempts to be positive and reassuring, every instinct Marco possessed screamed that their troubles were only just beginning.