Chapter Nineteen #2
“This letter is in Mr Rowland’s hand. It directs Lady Georgiana to attend a clandestine meeting and threatens, upon her refusal, to send her private correspondence for publication.”
Rowland moved at last. “That proves no blackmail. A private disagreement between…”
“There is another letter,” Georgiana said.
Selina glanced at her.
Four words this time; she could hardly object to the economy.
A faint stir went through the room.
Petherick took the second sheet.
Nathaniel watched his sister straighten. She made no speech. She did not denounce Rowland or explain how lonely she had been or ask the room to forgive her for having believed him.
She allowed his handwriting to speak for him.
Petherick placed the letters beside the other documents.
Rowland had gone pale.
“A private correspondence proves nothing about Lord Merrow,” he said. “Whatever passed between Lady Georgiana and myself has nothing to do with the matter before this room.”
“Unfortunately,” Lady Marwood said, “you have already told us otherwise.”
Rowland turned.
Lady Marwood remained where she was.
“In my garden you spoke to the Duchess of Lord Merrow’s papers, of the money you required and of what might remain quiet if the Duke of Wexford were persuaded to pay. Lady Carbery heard you as clearly as I did.”
Lady Carbery inclined her head. “I did.”
Giles looked at Rowland. “You told them that?”
Rowland’s silence answered more effectively than anything Petherick might have produced from his case.
For the first time that evening, the two men looked less like allies than men privately calculating which of them had failed the other.
Then Lady Helena Sinclair stood from her chair near without haste. Those nearest her noticed first, and the quiet spread.
“I promised the Duchess that I would speak when the occasion required it,” she said. “I believe it does.” Her gaze settled briefly upon Selina. “When my nephew married, I had reservations. Her Grace knows that better than anyone.”
Selina met her eyes.
“I have since had the opportunity to know her.”
Lady Helena turned towards the room.
“The Duchess of Wexford has my confidence and my affection. I do not bestow either carelessly. Anyone who chooses to repeat Lord Merrow’s allegations after the documents produced tonight may do as they please. They should not expect to do it in my company.”
She sat down.
Selina stood very still. Nathaniel looked at her.
He had kept his silence through the accusation, the documents and Rowland’s attempt to draw Georgiana into the affair. When Selina met his eyes now, she gave the smallest nod.
Nathaniel stepped forward.
“I shall add only one thing.”
The room turned towards him.
“I knew who my wife was before I married her. I knew her name, her father’s history and the circumstances in which she had lived since his death.
Nothing said tonight is a revelation to me.
” His gaze found Selina’s. “I married her freely. Knowing what I know now, I would make the same choice again.”
The words were familiar to her. He had told her as much in private. Hearing him say them here, where Giles had intended her shame to stand, was another thing entirely.
Nathaniel looked back towards the room.
“Anyone who wishes to judge the Duchess of Wexford may therefore do so knowing that I do not share the judgement.”
He stepped back beside her.
Lady Marwood rose. She crossed the floor and stopped before Selina.
“Come, Duchess.”
She offered her arm.
Selina understood the gesture for what it was. She placed her hand upon it.
Only then did Lady Marwood address Giles and Rowland.
“You will both leave my house.”
Giles stiffened. “Lady Marwood…”
“No. I have heard quite enough. You came into my ballroom to make an accusation. You have made it, and it has been answered.”
Her gaze moved to Rowland.
“You were admitted tonight because the matter concerned you. It no longer requires your presence.”
Neither man moved immediately.
Lady Marwood looked towards the door. That was sufficient.
Giles searched the surrounding faces, perhaps for some sign that the room remained his to command. Whatever he found there persuaded him otherwise.
He bowed stiffly and turned away.
Rowland followed.
The company parted to let them through. Nobody applauded. Selina was grateful for that. Applause would have made the evening into a performance, and too much of her life had already been performed for other people.
Only when the doors closed behind the two men did conversation begin again.
It returned slowly: a fan opening, the murmur of voices, a glass placed upon a tray. The musicians looked towards Lady Marwood, uncertain whether they were expected to resume.
Mrs Loxley remained beside Selina. The two women looked at one another properly for the first time.
“Would you like to go upstairs?” Selina asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“I shall come with you.”
Mrs Loxley hesitated, then shook her head. “If you do not mind, Your Grace, I should like to be alone for a little while.”
“Of course.”
Mrs Loxley touched Selina’s hand once, briefly.
“Thank you for letting me speak.”
Selina could think of no answer that did not make too much of it. She merely inclined her head.
Lady Marwood’s housekeeper came forward, and Mrs Loxley went with her.
Selina turned to Nathaniel. “We won,” she said.
“We did.”
She looked towards the doors through which Giles and Rowland had gone, then back at him. “You stayed quiet. Even when you hated it.”
“You asked me to.”
Something in her expression softened.
“You trusted me.”
Nathaniel held out his hand. “Always.”
Selina placed hers in it.
The room was beginning to recover around them, conversation returning by degrees, but she had spent enough of herself beneath its attention.
“I should like some air.”
Nathaniel offered his arm.
“Come.”
She took it, and together they left the heat and voices of the ballroom for the tall doors standing open upon the night.