Chapter 24
Miss Jennings stood in the hallway, her face puce and her eyes huge as she twisted her fingers together in front of her.
Lord Worthington had stepped back to give her space, and Josiah could see the tremor running through her frame --- but she had come.
She had dressed carefully, written that letter of her own accord, and ridden across London in a borrowed carriage to stand in this hallway. That was not nothing.
"I do not think I can come in," she whispered.
Josiah said nothing for a moment. He would not force her. The decision to walk through that door had to be hers, just as the decision to come here had been.
Miss Jennings closed her eyes, drew in a breath that seemed to cost her everything, and then opened them again.
Something shifted in her expression --- not courage, exactly, but a kind of grim resolve, as though she were reminding herself of the words she had written to Lady Clara.
I would rather face it standing than cowering in this cottage.
She lifted her chin, nodded once, and without requiring his arm or even his presence beside her, stepped forward into the room.
Josiah exchanged a look of surprise with Lord Worthington, but then followed in after her.
Immediately, Lady Clara got to her feet and hurried towards Miss Jennings, taking her by the arm and leading her to sit beside her.
Their heads came together as Lady Clara murmured something to Miss Jennings who, in turn, nodded.
Then, Lady Clara's eyes went to his and she smiled at him. Josiah's heart lifted.
"Mother, this is Miss Jennings," Lady Clara said, with a soft smile still on her lips. "A young lady who has done no wrong but who was promised love and matrimony."
Lady Tyrone drew herself up, a tight expression on her face. "I see."
Josiah watched as Miss Jennings let her gaze drift lightly around the room.
Her eyes moved from face to face and he marked the moment they found Lord Tyrone --- a sharp intake of breath, a visible flinch, the colour draining from her already pale cheeks.
That was the reaction Josiah had expected: the shock of seeing the man who had wronged her.
But then her gaze moved to Lord Thomas and something strange happened.
Her brow creased and her head tilted, almost imperceptibly, as if she were trying to reconcile two things that did not fit.
She looked from one brother to the other and then back again, her lips parting in what Josiah could only describe as bewilderment --- not the bewilderment of seeing two brothers who resembled each other, but something deeper, as though one of them looked as she expected and the other did not.
Her eyes lingered on Lord Thomas with a flicker that was not recognition, exactly, but the ghost of it --- as if she had seen his face before in a different context and could not place where.
Then her gaze dropped quickly to the floor in front of her, leaving Lady Clara free to lead the conversation.
"You told me, Miss Jennings, that you were introduced to the younger brother of this family," Lady Clara said, as Miss Jennings nodded. "It was he who formed a connection with you, was it not?"
The softness of Miss Jennings' voice was so great, it was hard for Josiah to make out.
"Yes," she near whispered. "Yes, it was. He told me his name was Lord Thomas Frankton."
"Then that is our answer!" Lady Tyrone exclaimed, making Josiah himself start with the fervency in her voice. "Thomas, it is you who has done such a thing!"
Thomas shook his head. "There has been some mistake."
"How can there be?" Lady Tyrone cried, as Josiah moved to stand next to Miss Jennings, seeing her tremble. "I cannot understand ---"
"Mother, wait a moment." Clara got to her feet, silencing her mother. "I think there may well have been a misunderstanding."
The silence that ran through the room brought with it clarity and understanding.
Josiah knew before Clara spoke what it was she was going to say.
His eyes widened as he turned his attention to Lord Tyrone, seeing how the gentleman had seemingly deflated into his chair.
His head was bowed, his hands clasped in his lap and a sense of defeat hanging over him.
"Miss Jennings, if you might be so bold?" Clara reached out one hand and brought Miss Jennings to stand up beside her. "Which of the gentlemen here is the man who called himself Lord Thomas --- the one who promised you so much?"
Every eye was pinned to Miss Jennings who, with a deep breath that lifted her chin, raised one hand and pointed directly to Lord Tyrone.
"That is the man," she said, and her voice did not waver. "That is the man who told me he was Lord Thomas Frankton."
The room erupted.
But it was Lord Tyrone who spoke first, before anyone else could find their voice. He straightened in his chair, his chin lifting with the practised authority of a man accustomed to commanding rooms far larger than this one.
"This is absurd." His voice cut through the chaos with a sharpness that silenced even Thomas.
"You bring a woman of no standing, no reputation, no family worth speaking of into my home and expect me to answer to her?
" He turned his gaze upon Miss Jennings and Josiah saw the lady flinch, though she did not look away.
"She has been coached. Clearly, she has been told what to say and by whom ---" His eyes flicked to Josiah.
"I am not so foolish as to think Lord Rutland incapable of such manipulation. "
"She has not been coached," Clara said, her voice trembling with fury. "She pointed to you of her own will and you know it."
"A paid companion will say whatever she is paid to say," Lord Tyrone replied, and there was something almost desperate in the speed with which he spoke, as though the words themselves might form a wall around him if only he could get them out quickly enough.
"She is a disgraced woman from a disgraced family and I will not have my name ---"
"Enough." Lady Tyrone's voice was not loud but it carried the weight of a woman who had been silent for too long. She did not rise from her chair. She did not need to. "I have watched that young woman's face as she spoke and I have watched yours. She is not lying, David. But you are."
The use of his Christian name --- not his title, not "Tyrone," but David --- seemed to strike him harder than anything Miss Jennings had said. His mouth opened and then closed again, and for the first time since he had sat down, he looked uncertain.
Josiah put one hand on Miss Jennings' arm, helping her to sit back down into her seat. Clara followed, gripping Miss Jennings' hand as she fixed her gaze on Lord Tyrone who still had not moved.
"You coward!" Lady Alice, who was not holding back, threw sharp words at her cousin. "You did all of this to protect yourself rather than take a hold of your responsibilities and your duties!"
Lord Worthington was saying nothing, sitting back in his chair but his gaze affixed to Lady Alice. There was something like admiration in his eyes, as if to suggest he found her willingness to speak openly something quite wonderful.
"My goodness," Josiah murmured, as the room slowly began to sink back into silence, with every person waiting now for Lord Tyrone to speak.
"So Miss Jennings, you were told that the gentleman courting you was Lord Thomas Frankton.
You believed that he ---" He pointed to Lord Tyrone, "was the gentleman who had promised you so much, only to then go on to betray you utterly. "
Miss Jennings nodded but the tears that Josiah had expected did not come.
Instead, she sat very still, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and when she lifted her head, it was not Clara or Josiah she looked to but Lord Tyrone himself.
Her eyes were bright and hard and there was a colour in her cheeks that had nothing to do with shame.
"You told me that you loved me," she said, and her voice carried across the room with a steadiness that surprised them all.
"You told me that my father's disgrace did not matter to you, that you saw only me.
You held my hand in the garden and spoke of a future together --- of a home, of children, of a life where I would never again have to worry about my situation.
" She drew in a breath that shook only slightly.
"And all the while, you were not even brave enough to give me your true name.
You hid behind your brother's name like the coward you are, so that when you tired of me, there would be nothing to connect you to what you had done. "
Lord Tyrone flinched as if she had struck him.
"I have spent months believing that Lord Thomas Frankton was the worst sort of man," Miss Jennings continued, her fingers gripping the fabric of her skirt.
"I have hated a name that did not belong to the man who wronged me.
I have wept over promises that were never yours to make under a name that was never yours to use.
And all the while, I was alone in a cottage with barely enough to live on, whilst you attended balls and soirees and lived as if I had never existed at all. "
The silence that followed was absolute. Even Lady Tyrone had stopped her weeping, staring at Miss Jennings with something that looked, at last, like true sympathy.
"How could you do such a thing?" Lady Clara asked, her own voice hoarse with emotion. "How could you treat Miss Jennings so abominably? How could you then go on to threaten both myself and Thomas in such a way in an attempt to protect yourself?"
Lady Tyrone closed her eyes. "Your selfishness is abhorrent," she whispered, as Lord Tyrone pushed his hair out of his eyes and slowly lifted his head --- although he would not look at anyone. "I never thought that a son of mine would have such a darkness within him."