Chapter 3
“Asher, would you come for a stroll with me?”
Asher looked up from the newspaper as he sipped his coffee at breakfast, which he usually shared with his sister, for their mother was a late riser.
“This morning?” he asked Thalia, who sat across from him in the middle of the table. He refused to sit at the head, for in his mind, it still belonged to someone else.
“After breakfast,” she clarified. “The weather is beautiful, and I should like to go before Hyde Park becomes too crowded.”
He really didn’t have time for this, but then, he also knew that his sister had been just as affected as the rest of them by all they had lost and he had promised himself to always make her a priority.
“For a brief promenade, Thalia, I can do that.”
“Wonderful,” she said with a small smile.
Which was why, but an hour later, he found himself on the footpath near the Serpentine, trying his best to ignore the many gazes that were sent his way – more than usual, he considered.
Thalia received her fair share of greetings from some of her friends, and Asher grimly wondered how many were true friends and how many wanted to get closer to him — a thought he would never share with Thalia.
“Are you doing well, Thalia?”
“Yes,” she said, tilting her head to look up at him. “Why do you ask?”
“Our family has been through much in the past few years. First Father, and then Daniel…”
“It has been difficult, that is certain, but their deaths likely affected you more than they did me,” she said.
“You do not often show your feelings.”
“Father used to say that some things were better concealed,” she said. “Not secrets just… pieces of a puzzle that weren’t meant for everyone.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, looking at her quizzically. She had always been closer to their father, but her words were almost nonsense.
“Who are you looking for?” Thalia cut in before he could clarify.
“What do you mean?”
“You are staring at the young ladies as though you are looking for someone in particular.”
“I am not.”
“Lady Evelyn Stratford, perhaps?”
He stopped abruptly. “Why would you think that?”
“I heard you were speaking with her – unchaperoned – on Bond Street yesterday.”
He rolled his eyes before continuing to walk forward. Was nothing left unnoticed anymore?
One thing was for certain. He had discovered yesterday that Lady Evelyn was much sharper than most people of his acquaintance, man or woman.
Which could be why she was named in the accusation. He wondered what she had seen that night.
“Did you hear that?” Thalia asked, and Asher realized he had been daydreaming.
“What?”
“I swear the lady and gentleman walking by us mentioned your name.”
“Perhaps they were just identifying me,” he said dryly.
“I thought I heard them also say something about the Paragon,” she said. “Is that the diamond that was stolen?”
“It is.”
“The one Mother loves?
Asher looked quickly from side to side to make sure that no one could hear his sister.
“Thalia, we shouldn’t discuss these things here.”
He hadn’t told her about the note, not wanting her to worry.
A group of ladies stood to the side of the path, stealing glances at them now and then, and Thalia looked up at him with concern.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispered.
He frowned, stepping to the side of the path, keeping an eye on her as she quietly approached the women, pausing on the edge of their circle.
They didn’t even notice her.
Finally, just when his patience was waning, she returned, concern in her expression.
“Come,” she said, linking her arm through his as they quickly walked down the path, agreeing without discussion that they should leave the park.
When they appeared to be completely alone, she looked up at him. “The ladies were discussing rumors about you.”
“About me?”
“That you were seen alone together with Lady Evelyn at the Spring Soiree shortly before the chandeliers were lit. Another said that she fainted once they were lit, and you carried her out.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he blustered.
“Of course it is,” she said. “Someone is spreading rumors. They say that you have wanted the diamond for yourself, and that you know more about the theft than you let on. They also wonder how a bluestocking like Lady Evelyn could ever catch your attention.
“She’s a bluestocking?”
“That is the part of the conversation which concerns you?” Thalia gaped at him. “Oh, Asher, perhaps you are interested in her.”
Joy lit her features, and Asher quickly shook his head, not wanting Thalia to get any hopes up that he was interested in settling down with any young woman.
His frustration grew, not because he was involved in rumors about Lady Evelyn. It was that he was slowly losing any control he ever thought he had.
The next day, Evelyn joined her father for breakfast, finding him already poring over the scholarly journals that had arrived that morning.
He was an academic man, one who would have been suited for a way of life outside of the aristocracy.
He still reluctantly saw to all of his responsibilities in Parliament and to those involving his estate, but he far preferred to be in London, near his academic societies and research libraries.
Evelyn didn’t much care where they resided, as long as her father continued to allow her the freedom to study as she pleased and did not force any potential suitors on her.
He often said that he wanted to see her looked after, but she had a feeling he didn’t like the idea of being without someone to look after him.
In companionable silence, they each ate their breakfast, drank their tea, and read their papers.
Her father reached for the lemon scones, setting one on Evelyn’s plate before she could ask.
“You almost forgot one,” he said mildly before returning to the paper.
Evelyn smiled despite herself. He noticed more than people gave him credit for.
The easy conversation was shattered when Evelyn jumped in surprise as her father slammed down the paper.
“What’s wrong?” she said, staring at him in surprise as he glared downward. Her father sometimes had fits of frustration when a project didn’t go his way, but he usually tried to keep such displays of anger from her.
“You are in the gossip column.”
“What?” she said, her eyes widening in surprise. “I didn’t even know you read the gossip column.”
“I peruse it,” he admitted. “But that is not what is at issue here. It says that you were seen with the Duke of Ravenscar. Alone. Multiple times — at the Spring Soiree by the Paragon Diamond, and again on Bond Street.”
Evelyn’s spine stiffened. While both had some truth to them, they were completely isolated, innocent incidences.
“That is ridiculous,” she said. “I have never been the subject of gossip before, nor is there any reason for me to be.”
“This is intolerable, Evelyn,” her father said, any semblance of the mild scholar having vanished. “You were alone with him? How could this happen?”
Evelyn forced herself to take a breath before responding. How could her father so readily believe a gossip column?
“Father,” she said in as calm a manner as she could manage, “I barely know the duke, and I believe the only words we exchanged at the Spring Soiree were a ‘pardon me,’ as I stepped by him. Then I was speaking with him while I waited for you outside of Mr. Pine’s office. But that is all.”
“That is not what the ton believes.”
“What does that matter? We know the truth.”
“My academic reputation depends on us being unattached to scandal, Evelyn, to say nothing of your own prospects.”
“Academic or romantic?”
He sighed, looking down at the table. “I should find a match for you soon. I have been remiss.”
“Father, where is this coming from?” she asked, looking closer at him. “You know that I am happy with my life as it is.”
“I know, but someday…” He looked away from her. “This matters. That is all. We’ll fix this, Evelyn, somehow. I promise.”
She took a breath as she pushed away her plate, no longer hungry. She had done nothing wrong. So why did it feel like she had?
The next week passed in a blur of escalating rumors and Asher’s own angry frustration.
First there came the newspaper articles, detailing his private conversations with Lady Evelyn, at the Spring Soiree and beyond.
His interest in the diamond. His interest in scholarly bluestockings.
If Lady Evelyn hadn’t outlined all the reasons scandal would be harmful for her own family’s reputation, he almost would have suggested that she had been the one to start the rumors, for who else could possibly benefit?
He heard the comments at his club about his choice in scholars, the whispered laughter from a passing carriage, the newspaper columns with not-so-veiled references.
What made it all the worse was that he secretly longed to know more about the one woman who refused to be intimidated by him and also didn’t seem to have any interest in him. He couldn’t think of another lady in London who fit that description.
But to spend any time with Evelyn would only feed the gossip columns, so he kept his distance, hoping it would all subside.
It seemed, however, that even if he wasn’t feeding the fire, someone was, for it was only getting worse, the gossip on everyone’s tongue.
When he received a note one morning, he knew he had no choice but to address it.
Your grace,
Your choice of inaction does not seem to be making any progress but rather is sinking us deeper into suspicions. My voucher has been refused by the Almack’s patroness, and my father is being questioned in his academic societies. I find I am no longer welcomed in lecture halls as I once was.
I would suggest we meet to determine a path forward. If you would like to keep it private, then perhaps we could return to our previous meeting place — the third chamber of the British Institution? I can be found there nearly every morning at 10 o’clock.
Lady Evelyn Stratford
Asher frowned at the note.
He hated that it had come to this.