Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THISTLEWAYTE HALL
As Eugenia and Susan walked out through Thistlewayte Hall’s front door, with Neville hot on their heels, on their way to the carriage which waited to convey them to the Duke of Elkington’s Midsummer Ball, they found themselves face-to-face with a seemingly chastened Lord Greywood.
His sister, Lady Henrietta, was glaring at his back through narrowed eyes, her annoyance with her brother apparent in her guarded, cross-armed posture.
Susan stiffened beside Eugenia at unexpectedly seeing Lady Henrietta, then forced herself to relax.
Neville reached over and pressed a soothing hand to the small of her back, but said nothing, choosing to quietly observe this exchange instead.
Susan had told him that she and Lady Henrietta had put the past behind them at the house party, after all.
But Lord Greywood? Susan obviously still didn’t trust the man as far as she could throw him, if her hawkish gaze and pursed lips were anything to judge by.
Lord Greywood spoke first.
“Lord Seabury, Lady Seabury, Lady Eugenia, my sister and I are on our way to visit our parents in Middlebrook, but we thought to stop here first. Could we beg a moment of your time?”
Susan, who had a sneaking suspicion that Lord Greywood had been somehow involved in making her poor friend Eugenia miserable, gave a haughty sniff.
“We are on our way to the Duke of Elkington’s Midsummer Ball. I’m sure we don’t have the time.”
“Please,” Lord Greywood pressed, wringing his hands. “Just a moment. I need to confess to a terrible wrong which I committed against Lady Eugenia.”
It was then that Lady Henrietta chose to chime in from behind him, her voice clearly indicating how she felt about her brother in that moment.
“My brother is, apparently, an easily manipulated dolt.”
Lord Greywood winced at his sister’s censure, and Neville had to cough to cover a laugh at Greywood’s expense.
Eugenia put her hand on Susan’s arm to stay any further responses from her delightfully protective friend.
“Very well, Lord Greywood, please speak your piece. But be expeditious about it. As my dear sister by marriage has said, we are expected at the Duke of Elkington’s Ball. The journey is quite long, and we must be on our way.”
Lord Greywood nodded, and then, in a rush of hurried words, confessed to helping Lydia Errington separate Lady Eugenia from Lord D’Asti, and explained and demonstrated how he’d mimicked Lord D’Asti’s voice perfectly.
He left no room for excusing himself, professing that he knew himself to be the villain in this situation, as well.
“I only beg that you not blame my sister. Henrietta had nothing to do with any of this. She had no idea of it, until I told her what I’d done. I did this purely to hurt Lord D’Asti, in my somewhat excessive desire to avenge my sister, but I never meant to hurt you, Lady Eugenia.”
Henrietta spoke up, her expression open and earnest.
“I too need to apologise. I should have known, by Percy’s behaviour, that something was wrong.
I should have looked into it, should have worked it out and demanded that he stop what he was doing.
I was so lost in trying to enjoy the house party with the gossip about me finally dying down, that I didn’t think to pay attention to the way that Percy was sneaking around and spending so much time with Miss Errington. I’m so sorry. Please forgive us.”
“Of course,” both Susan and Eugenia replied in unison.
They were both somewhat in shock at the revelation. Eugenia took a calming breath before replying, wishing her words to convey a steadiness which was greater than she actually felt.
“Thank you for your honesty in this matter, Lord Greywood. We really must be going, now. Good day.” Then, Eugenia turned to Lady Henrietta and her expression softened a bit.
“I should like to have you over to Thistlewayte Hall for tea soon, Lady Henrietta. I quite enjoyed your company at Lady Bellingham’s house party. ”
Lady Henrietta’s mouth dropped into a shocked ‘O’ for a moment, then her whole demeanour brightened, and she beamed at Eugenia.
“Thank you, Lady Eugenia. I should like that very much. Enjoy the Ball.”
Neville helped Eugenia and Susan climb into their waiting carriage and the three of them sat in silence for a long moment as it drew away. Finally, Eugenia began breathing heavily as the truth flooded her mind and panic set in. She had been a fool, she had played right into Lydia’s hand.
Lord D’Asti.
She had simply ignored him, told the staff at Thistlewayte Hall that she never wanted to speak to the man again. What if he had given up, moved on? His debtors were pressing him to marry quickly, or they would strip everything from him that was not entailed to his title.
Oh, no.
Eugenia began to cry.
Neville looked over at his wife, distress at their friend’s upset written clear on his face.
“What are we to do? Lord Greywood may have confessed the truth, but—”
Eugenia moaned, shaking her head.
“Lord D’Asti must hate me now, I’m sure of it. I was a fool and let my wounded pride get the better of me. I should have listened to you, should have given him the chance to explain himself.”
“There, there dear.” Susan pulled Eugenia into a comforting embrace, rubbing soothing circles on Eugenia’s back as their carriage rolled away from Thistlewayte Hall.
“If Lord D’Asti is at the Ball, you will simply tell him the truth and apologise.
If he is half the man that you thought him to be, before Lord Greywood’s trickery, he will forgive you.
If he is not, then you have lost nothing in apologising. ”
“Yes, that is what I’ll do.”
Eugenia breathed out, calming herself. Neville visibly relaxed as Eugenia’s sobs turned to sniffles, then stopped entirely.
“And we will be there to support you no matter what.”
Neville offered her a reassuring smile.
When they arrived at Elkington Hall, the Ball was off to a grand start and the dancing had already begun.
In the entrance hall, before Eugenia and Susan made their way through the receiving line and into the ballroom, they heard the Duchess of Elkington speaking loudly about her expectations of Lord D’Asti proposing to her daughter, Lady Catherine, this very night.
Eugenia turned as if to run away, but Susan held her arm firmly and pressed on, whispering in Eugenia’s ear.
“He is not betrothed yet, dearest. Do not surrender too soon. Talk to him.”
“Very well,” Eugenia agreed. She scanned the room for Lord D’Asti, but did not see him. “If he comes, I will speak with him immediately, before he has the chance to speak to anyone else.”
“Good girl,” Susan replied cheerfully. “Now, let’s get some orgeat. I’m simply dying for a drink.”
On their way to the refreshment table, the two of them came across Lydia Errington, who curtsied stiffly when she saw them, her lips pinched as if she’d just tasted something unpleasant.
For the barest hint of a moment, Eugenia pictured herself throttling Lydia right there, in front of everyone in the ballroom.
Instead, she took a deep breath and returned the curtsey with a graceful one of her own before stepping close to Lydia and speaking so quietly that only Lydia and Susan could hear her.
“I hope you find happiness, Lydia, though heaven knows you’ve done little to deserve it.”
Eugenia gave the ashen, trembling girl a placid smile as she brushed past her to retrieve a glass of orgeat.
ELKINGTON HALL
Marco entered the Elkington Ball, resigned to his fate.
His time was up, and there seemed to be no chance for him to marry Lady Eugenia, though he’d been in love with her…
and perhaps was still in love with her. But his feelings were neither here nor there.
He had a duty to fulfill to everyone who was dependent on him and his estate, and he would not fail.
Marco would have no choice but to ask Lady Catherine to marry him tonight.
He could wait no longer. He hoped, for the sake of his already aching heart, that he would not see Lady Eugenia there.
It would be like salting a wound to have her present when he did his duty to his family’s legacy by asking for Lady Catherine Stewart’s hand in marriage.
He strode into Elkington Hall’s entrance hall, his shoulders set, and teeth gritted in firm determination.
He took a deep, bracing breath when he saw Lady Catherine on the far side of the ballroom and steeled himself for the grim duty which he must perform this night.
He was telling himself to smile, to at least try to appear happy, when he was surrounded by Lady Seabury on one side and a rather stricken-looking Lady Eugenia, each taking an arm and diverting his course away from where the entrance hall opened onto the ballroom.
With a bright smile, Lady Seabury steered the three of them toward a hallway which branched away from the ballroom.
“My Lord, we simply must speak with you in private.”
Lady Seabury did not wait for an agreement from Marco, nor any answer. She led them all into what turned out to be the all-too-quiet, empty library.
“I am rather busy, Lady Seabury, and have important business to attend to.”
Marco attempted to pull away from his rather annoyingly meddlesome friend, but her grip turned steely on his arm and her blue eyes flashed with warning.
“Not too busy to hear an apology, I hope.”
He stilled at that, blinking as his mind struggled to catch up with Lady Seabury’s meaning. Hope, dangerous creature that it was, began to stir in his chest, against his better judgment. Or perhaps that was his wounded pride? He couldn’t be sure.
Leaving the door open, Lady Seabury waved for Marco and Lady Eugenia to step further into the empty room, then proceeded to tug a nearby chair over and place it by the library’s entrance.
“I will just sit here, waiting with the door open so that there can be no scandals or mistaken assumptions, while I drink my most excellent orgeat.”