CHAPTER EIGHT #2
She did not get a chance to answer to the voice of her father, for her arm was taken and she was whisked away, out of the maze, but not before she saw the duke’s alarmed, angered look, aimed right at her.
No, she tried to tell herself. Not at me. Surely not at me.
Yet she could not shake the uneasiness as her parents got her away from the duke, and the crowd, and the promise of rumors to bloom from such a scandal.
***
On the carriage ride home, Amelia’s father spoke at length of the imminent match, while her mother was quiet, her gaze hard as she stared down at her clasped hands.
“We shall be rather revered,” Edward was saying, and Amelia’s stomach clenched. “It appears bad, and the way we had to discover this, Amelia, was not fortunate at all. But we must focus on the positives.
Amelia could not handle how he spoke as though she and the duke were engaged, or a sure match.
Timidly, she voiced her thoughts.
“Father, we are not a match,” she said. “You speak as though—”
“Of course you must be a match!” her mother snapped, breaking out of her silence. “Heavens, Amelia, did you think you could simply walk away from being seen in such a scandalous position and not face consequences?”
“But it is not what everyone thinks—”
“We shall be ruined if you do not accept the match,” her mother told her, and Amelia flinched, having not seen her mother like that.
“Forgive me, Amelia, but you have been careless, and foolish, and I understand you have been worried about your third Season but you did not need to resort to such scandals!
Think of Clara, of Elizabeth. Think of their futures, as well as your own.
“Bernie,” Edward said gently. “Calm yourself. This is a situation that is very easily fixed. Amelia understands the position she has put herself in, and she will understand what we must do to save things.”
“I can only hope that Amelia realizes just how much she has ruined this family’s reputation,” Bernadette snapped, her eyes filling with tears as she turned away.
Amelia’s heart ached, her mother’s anger a dagger to her chest. Her mama, who was always so kind, and who had hoped for her to succeed this Season, only to now turn against her.
She did not feel at fault but…
She knew she had needed to leave the maze, and did not. She was only feeling terrible now because somehow Cassandra had known to catch her out. Still, she could not understand why the initial accusation had been with Lord Ambrose, or why Lord Ambrose had looked so flustered and confused.
“We were only discussing Shakespeare,” Amelia whispered foolishly into the carriage’s silence, knowing it did not matter, for a scandal was a scandal, and she had been caught alone with His Grace.
Tears sprung to her eyes, and all she could think of was how the duke felt, and what their fates might be now, and how he would address it. She did not wish to trap him into anything, and could only hope that her father would not make such rash decisions to quickly solve her mistake.
***
Graham could not stop his pacing. For all the times he had berated his mother for her incessant, worrisome habit, he was no better, really.
But the newest scandal sheet clenched in his fist had him tight with anger, unable to focus, unable to think.
“How,” he growled under his breath, “how did a mere innocent discussion of Shakespeare turn into this?”
His stomach clenched, and dread crept over him.
He knew the honorable thing to do now, and it pained him.
How could he do such a thing? How could he have been so careless?
He knew, walking into the maze, that something would have happened yet he had thought it would be Lady Cassandra, that somehow, she would have had them captured alone.
Not Miss Hawthorne.
And the worst thing was what the scandal sheet said about her motives, leaving Graham confused as to what he believed. Her character, what he knew of it so far, was too meek and shy to be as calculating as the claims made her to be.
Something had happened beyond his control and yet he knew the consequences he now had to face.
He should have turned on his heel as soon as he saw Miss Hawthorne’s pretty, delicate face appear in the maze.
Pretty, he thought, halting himself. When had he begun to think of her as pretty?
Once again, he read the sheet, absorbing each damning word.
Fellow readers, you must simply join me in the uproar of today’s buzz, for the ton has much to report on.
No, it is not a case of Miss Galier, the French niece of one Lord Rotherham, being caught sneaking into the lesser parts of town for very suspicious reasons, and nor is it the fact that Lord Twickenham was barred from yet another gambling hell, but rather there is more to say on the blossoming unfolding of the rakish Duke of Blackthorn, and the seductress, Miss Hawthorne.
The Kensington House was the place to be for yesterday’s social highlight of the week, where Lord and Lady Kensington hosted a lavish garden party, attended by the most prominent of nobility.
However, the day soon took a salacious turn when His Grace and Miss Hawthorne were discovered together in a hedge maze.
Were they traversing the paths innocently, or were they mapping out the route to one another into a deeper, more secluded part of the maze for some privacy that some couples desire?
With such a large group of ladies finding them, neither party can deny their unfortunate scandal—but one begs: did Miss Hawthorne plan such a thing? Perhaps this was her motive all along, to be caught with His Grace, forcing his hand to save her reputation.
And the further question remains: will our resident rake do the honourable thing and save her from ruin, or shall he flee and be the coward some speculate he is?
Graham threw the sheet down with a growl. They were doing nothing untoward yet he should have known better than to have her caught unchaperoned. It was entirely his fault—and for that he needed to see that he did right by her. He could not be the cause of Miss Hawthorne’s ruin.
I believe she is in her third Season, his mother had told him after the party. It would be a shame if you would be dishonourable and see her utterly ruined, married off to an old, childless man who needs an heir so desperately. Do not dishonour us, Graham.
And now he was stuck—and not only himself but he would do the same to Miss Hawthorne, and he would drag the Hawthornes into his curse, but the alternative was to see her ruined. Storming out of Blackthorn House, Graham ordered his carriage to be prepared and ready to attend Hawthorne Manor.