Chapter 21
The initial shock had washed over Jonathan, and now he was left with nothing but a feeling of deep despair, laced with anger.
It was not for his own sake that he felt such a way, but rather for Lady Susanna, the pain in her eyes and the tears now dampening his shoulder speaking of an agony that could not fully be expressed.
To have such a betrayal by her own sister must be ripping deep wounds indeed.
He tightened his arm around her, wishing he could absorb some portion of her pain, wishing he could stand between her and every hurt the world had dealt her.
The room itself seemed to press in upon them — the parlor’s delicate wallpaper and fine furnishings a grotesque backdrop for the ugly truths being laid bare.
Lady Evelina did not even shift her gaze from where it lingered on the wall of the parlor. Nor did she speak, her lips flattening as if to state she was determined to remain silent.
“I know why you thought to harm me, Lady Evelina,” Jonathan continued, aware that he needed her to speak to him, to tell them all the truth. “It is to do with your father, is it not? The Earl of Moncrieff.”
Her eyes shot to his, sparkling with an anger unspoken.
“It is not I who should be the focus of your anger but he,” Jonathan said, speaking quietly. “I did nothing.”
“You threatened him!” Lady Evelina, despite her attempt to remain silent, spoke harshly, her eyes flashing. “You told him that if he did not do what you demanded, then he would lose everything. Will you deny it?”
Jonathan tilted his head. “No, I do not deny it.”
“Then that is why I was delighted to come alongside Lady Maude,” she hissed, glaring at him. “Just as you sought to injure my family, so I sought to injure you.”
“Except I did not seek to do anything of the sort,” Jonathan answered quietly. “I did not seek to injure your father but to protect my brother.”
Lady Evelina tossed her head. “A poor excuse, Lord Lancashire. He told my mother that the reason we had lost a substantial amount from our dowries was because of you.”
“He told your mother, but you overheard the conversation?” Lady Ellen guessed, though Lady Evelina did not respond to her – but nor, Jonathan realized, did she deny it.
“You only heard a thread of conversation,” he stated, unequivocally. “No doubt your father would have hidden the truth as best he could from you all, regardless. It is not as if any gentleman wishes to share that he has been involved in cheating or the like.”
For the first time, doubt flickered in Lady Evelina’s eyes — but only for a moment.
She straightened in her seat and lifted her chin, and the doubt vanished like a candle snuffed.
“You are talking nonsense,” she stated, spiritedly.
“You stole from my father, you cheated him and took so much coin from him that he had to take money from my sister’s dowry and from mine, simply to stay solvent! ”
Jonathan shook his head no. “My brother came to me, Lady Evelina. He told me about his gambling struggles and confessed that he had been playing cards the previous evening – and had managed to get himself into a dreadful state. What he described of the game, however, and of the gentleman who played with him for hours and hours, made my heart anxious. I grew concerned that my brother had been taken advantage of; I felt quite sure that there had been some underhanded methods being used against him, and thus, I went to play cards with the very same gentlemen – namely, your father.” He scowled.
“I pretended to imbibe a good deal more than I actually did, watching him carefully all the while.” Shrugging and thinking it best not to go into specific detail, he spread out his hands.
“When I demanded the truth from your father, he told me plainly that yes, he had sought to cheat my brother. The only way he could prevent the ton from becoming aware of his cheating was to give my brother back all that he was owed. Therefore, that is what took place.”
Lady Evelina shook her head again, but something in her posture had shifted — a stiffness in her shoulders, a tightening around her mouth. “I do not believe you.”
“Then why do you not speak to your father and ask him?” It was not Jonathan who challenged this, but Lady Susanna.
She stepped away from him, seemingly now strengthened by a few moments to sort out her thoughts.
“If you are so very certain, Lady Evelina, then why do you not go to him directly and tell him all that Lord Lancashire has said? I am aware that he is not in London at present, but that would not prevent a letter being sent, would it?”
“I would be glad to join you in a conversation with your father,” Jonathan put in. “I would come to your father’s estate and have him speak plainly – I would bring my brother with me also.”
Lady Susanna tipped her head a fraction. “Tell me, Lady Evelina, would you expect such confidence from a gentleman who is lying to you?”
Lady Evelina did not answer. Her gaze had dropped to her hands, which lay folded in her lap with an unnatural stillness, as though she were holding herself together by force of will.
The silence stretched, and Jonathan watched her face — saw the tiny movements there, the nearly imperceptible battle between conviction and doubt.
He had seen men play cards with more transparent tells.
Then, very quietly, she said, “The night he told my mother about the money — about what you had taken — he would not look at her.”
The words seemed to surprise even Lady Evelina herself. She pressed her lips together, as if wishing she could pull them back. But they were already in the air, and they hung there, damning in their simplicity.
“I remember thinking it was strange,” she continued, still not looking at anyone.
“He always looked at her. He adored her. But that evening, when he told her it was your fault — that a young lord had ruined them through threats — he stared at the fire the entire time. And afterward, he drank more than I had ever seen him drink.” She drew a shaking breath.
“I told myself it was shame. That you had humiliated him and he could not bear to face the truth of what you had done. But now…”
She trailed off. Jonathan forced himself to remain still, to say nothing, to let the silence do the work that no argument could accomplish. Lady Susanna seemed to understand this also, for she, too, stood wordless, her hand finding Jonathan’s and gripping it.
“He was not looking away because he was humiliated,” Lady Evelina said, at last, and her voice had changed — gone flat and thin, the voice of someone assembling a truth they had been running from for a very long time. “He was looking away because he was lying.”
“I am sorry,” Jonathan said, and he meant it.
Lady Evelina lifted her chin, and this time, there were tears, but she did not wipe them away.
“You did not cheat my father,” she said.
It was not a question. “My father cheated your brother, and you stopped him. And rather than admit the truth, he told my mother — and through her, he told us — that you were the villain.” She closed her eyes.
“How convenient it must have been for him. And how easily I believed it, because it was easier to hate you than to suspect him.”
“No, Lady Evelina! Do not let them convince you!” Lady Maude exclaimed, but before she could say any more, Lady Evelina rose to her feet.
“I shall take my leave and write to my father directly.” Her shoulders rounded. “Though I do not think he will deny it. Not anymore. I think I have always known, somewhere beneath all my anger — I simply did not wish to see.”
“Then if he confirms it, I shall consider the matter closed between us,” Jonathan stated, as Lady Evelina made her way to the door without a glance towards any of them. “There is no malice in my heart toward you, Lady Evelina. Only the hope that the truth will finally bring you peace.”
She paused at the threshold, one hand on the doorframe, and for a moment, Jonathan thought she might turn back and say something more. But she only nodded — once, small, heavy with the weight of an entire belief system crumbling — and then she was gone.
Jonathan, Lady Susanna, Lady Ellen, and Lord Kettering turned their full attention to Lady Maude. She was still on her feet, her face scarlet, her eyes wide, and her hands clenched.
Lady Susanna shook her head. “How could you have done such a thing to me?”
Maude stamped her foot, letting out a scream of frustration.
“Why were you going to steal the attention from me? Did you not see just how well I was doing? Did you not think that any interest from a gentleman towards you would detract from my success?” Narrowed eyes settled on Jonathan.
“And a Marquess too! I have only Earls and Viscounts considering me, Susanna! I cannot let you achieve more than I might.”
“Whatever is the meaning of this noise?”
The door flew open and, without warning, the Duke strode into the room, his eyes blazing.
“I am attempting to speak with Lord Jedburgh in my study, and all can hear is your loud exclamations, Maude!” he cried, looking around at them all. “Why is everyone on their feet? Whatever is happening here?”
Jonathan looked to Lady Susanna, giving her a slow nod as she swallowed. It would be difficult for her to speak, he was sure, for the pain that would come to her heart as she spoke of her sister’s betrayal would be significant indeed, but it had to be done. The Duke of Somerset had to understand.
“It is nothing, Father.” Lady Maude’s tone settled at once, her face still scarlet. “Susanna and I were just speaking of a difficult matter.”
Lady Susanna drew herself up, turned to face her father, and, with a deep breath, began to speak. “Father, it seems that Maude has been conspiring with a friend to keep Lord Lancashire back from me.”
Shock rippled into the Duke’s expression.
“I think I shall take my leave of you, my dear,” Jonathan murmured, lowering his head so that Susanna could look up into his eyes. “This must be a private conversation between you all.”
She pressed her lips together, then nodded. “You will come to speak with me again soon?”
“Tomorrow?”
With a nod, she pressed his hand and then released it, and Jonathan, seeing the Duke’s gaze on him, inclined his head.
“All that Lady Susanna will tell you is true,” he said, hearing Lady Maude’s screech of upset.
“But I will not be separated from Lady Susanna again. My heart belongs solely to her, and even with all of this, I refuse to step back from her again. I want you to be assured of my love for your daughter, Your Grace, just as she is.”
The Duke ran one hand over his chin. “I do not pretend to understand all of this, but I thank you for your words, Lord Lancashire,” he said, as Jonathan stepped away. “Perhaps my daughters might sit down so that this conversation can continue?”
Jonathan hurried out of the room with Lord Kettering and Lady Ellen in front of him. His heart was sorrowful in leaving Susanna behind, but he knew in his heart that this had to be a private conversation between the lady and her father.
“We have the truth now,” Lord Kettering murmured as they walked back towards the carriage. “That must be a relief.”
Jonathan nodded. “It is, certainly,” he agreed, glancing back over his shoulder towards the closed door of the parlor. “I only hope it will not injure her heart too greatly.”
Lord Kettering clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She is stronger than you think, Lancashire. Than any of us thought.”
Jonathan looked at the front door of the townhouse one last time.
Through the heavy wood, he could hear no sound — no voices, no crying, nothing.
Whatever was happening in the parlor between Susanna, her father, and her sister was happening in silence, and somehow that was worse than any shouting could have been.
He had wanted to stay, had wanted to stand beside her through every painful word, but some battles could only be fought by family.
All he could do was wait, and hope, and be there when she was ready for him.
“Take me to White’s,” he said, climbing into the carriage. “I find I cannot go home.”
Kettering said nothing, but he stayed in the carriage, and that was enough.