Chapter 6
“Do you think that I cannot see the mark on your cheek? Your maid has set a curl very prettily over it, but it is there nonetheless! Might you explain that to me?”
Florence swallowed tightly. “Mother, that was not my doing.”
Lady Grangemouth snorted. “A most unlikely story! You know as well as I that you are as clumsy as a donkey, and I have no doubt that this mark has come solely because of your own failings.”
There was nothing that Florence could say to this. Her mother was quite determined to believe that this was all Florence’s own fault. The carriage rolled on, and Florence shivered, the cold air swirling onto her skin as the disbelief from her mother sent ice over her heart.
“I shall, no doubt, hear everything that took place,” Lady Grangemouth continued, as the carriage began to slow.
“The ton will be whispering about it, just as they whispered about your previous mishaps. I told you distinctly that there was to be no more of this, Florence, and yet you have deliberately disobeyed me!”
A streak of anger shot up Florence’s chest, and she sat up straight, her head lifting. “Mother, I can prove to you that it was not my fault. Mayhap then you might be willing to trust me even a little?”
This was said with more strength than Florence had ever previously expressed towards her mother.
The shock of what she had said and the fervency with which she had said it not only struck Lady Grangemouth but Florence herself, who swiftly snatched in gasp as her mother’s eyes widened.
Where had such strength come from? Turning her head away, she looked out of the window but saw nothing but blackness, the heart quickening suddenly.
A thought of Lord Applegate returned to her mind as her mother lingered on in silence, reminding her of how he had apologized to her the previous day in the bookshop.
That had been most unexpected, but mayhap that was where her sudden determination had come from.
She had, up until that moment, been berating herself for what had occurred, but when Lord Applegate had offered her a sincere apology, that weight had lifted.
For what was the first time since she had set foot in society, she had been told directly and without hesitation, that it had not been her fault.
“I must say, I did not expect you to speak to me in such a manner.” Now, it was not only the air that was cold but also her mother’s voice. “I am astonished at you, Florence. Do you truly think that any London gentleman will be willing to consider you with such an attitude?”
Florence took in a deep breath, steadied herself, and then looked back at her mother. “Will you listen to Helena, Mother? She will tell you –”
“Your cousin?” The disbelief, even a hint of mockery in her mother’s voice, made Florence wince.
“Of course she will say that it was not your fault! I am very well aware that Helena is doing all she can to support you, and whilst I am somewhat appreciative of her efforts, I do not think for a moment that she would be honest with me were I to ask her.”
Again, the memory of Lord Applegate apologizing to her came to the forefront of Florence’s mind.
With that memory came a sense of defiance, something that Florence had never truly experienced before this moment.
For the last few months, she had accepted that every mishap, every clumsy step, and every accident had been her own fault, but on this occasion, she had not been responsible.
Lord Applegate had proven that to her by apologizing and, in doing so, had seemingly lit a fire in Florence’s heart that was not about to be doused.
“Then I will introduce you to Lord Applegate,” she said stoutly, as the carriage stopped entirely.
“That way, you will hear from his lips that he was the one who caused this mark on my cheek. You will hear that it had nothing whatsoever to do with me and –” She stopped, hearing what she had been about to say ricocheting around her mind.
Dare she be bold enough to say such a thing?
Dare she have the strength to expect an apology from her own mother?
“And,” she said again, gripping her hands tightly together as she forced the words out, “I should like you to recognize that you were wrong in doubting me so.”
A snort came from her mother. “I do not know what this nonsense is, Florence, but I have no doubt that the gentleman will tell me that something happened that made it your fault. Recall that I have seen every previous mistake you have made, I have witnessed it all, and have had to bear the shame of it. I cannot believe that this was not your doing.”
Florence said nothing more, stepping out of the carriage and walking straight towards the townhouse, a fresh purpose in her steps.
Of course, she had no certainty that Lord Applegate would be present this evening, and she could not think about what she would say to have him express what she wished, but her determination lingered all the same.
Mayhap she was a little tired of her mother’s continual admonishment.
Mayhap the Marquess’ apology had spurred her to speak back to her mother about it.
Whatever the reason was, Florence had only one intention in mind for this evening.
The sheer amount of courage and composure it would take, however, was not at all insignificant, and as she crossed the threshold, Florence felt the familiar grip of anxiety take hold of her heart.
“Have you seen Lord Applegate this evening?”
Helena frowned. “I have not. Is there some reason that you wish to speak with him?”
Florence nodded, casting a glance over her shoulder and seeing her mother standing only a few steps away, her eyebrow lifted in question as Florence caught her gaze. “I have told mother that the mark on my cheek was not my doing, and she would not believe me.”
Her cousin’s eyebrows lifted. “And you intend to have him prove to her that it was not your fault?”
“I – I do.” Faltering, Florence hesitated, seeing Helena frown. “You do not think it a wise idea.”
Perhaps realizing that her expression had given her away, Helena smiled quickly. “It is not that, truly. It is that I am surprised at you, that is all.”
“Surprised?”
Helena nodded and then pressed her hand. “I did not think that you would have such strength, but if I am to be honest, I am very glad to see it. I must only hope that Lord Applegate will do as you desire.”
That gave Florence pause. “Yes, I suppose… I suppose that I did not truly think about Lord Applegate’s character. He may not be willing to speak.”
“Then we find his sister,” Helena declared, making Florence smile at her determination. “I am with you in this, Florence. One way or another, we will have the truth told!”
An hour later, Florence was beginning to despair of the whole idea.
She had not yet managed to find Lord Applegate, and her mother, who had been trailing after her and Helena for all that time, was making her exasperation known.
It did not please her that Florence had not yet found herself someone to dance with, meaning that Florence had been battling not only her own concerns but her mother’s frustrations and expectations also.
Helena had been the one quietly determined, murmuring small encouragements and leading Florence on, all without so much as a backward glance towards Lady Grangemouth.
The trailing ribbons, the dancing candlelight, the roaring fire, and the spiced punch did nothing to lift her spirits or soothe her concerns.
“This was a foolish idea,” Florence moaned, seeing her mother’s frown as she glanced over her shoulder.
“My mother will complain for many an hour that I did not stand up with anyone. I must find someone to dance with, although I fear now that my worry is so great, I will be a dreadful partner and will ridicule myself!”
“I am sure that – oh, look! Is that not he?”
Florence’s heart leaped suddenly as a gentleman turned around to speak with a lady near him.
Taking in the now familiar dark brown hair, firm jaw, and flashing green eyes, she felt relief begin to pull at her worries.
There was no promise that he would be willing to do as she hoped, but she had found him, at least.
“There is Lord Applegate, Mother.” Glancing back at her mother, Florence gestured towards the gentleman. “Should you like to be introduced?”
Lady Grangemouth sniffed. “And this is the gentleman who supposedly injured you, was it?”
“Yes, it is.” Florence’s heart tore all over again at the disbelief in her mother’s voice, but she kept her gaze steady. “I am sure he will admit to it, should you ask him.”
Lady Grangemouth’s eyes flickered. “Then let us go and ask him.”
Without waiting for Florence, she made her way directly across the room towards Lord Applegate, leaving Florence and Helena to follow after her.
Her heart pounding, Florence came quickly after her, her eyes affixing to Lord Applegate as he continued in conversation, not so much as glancing at her.
Now that the moment was upon her, Florence was not at all certain how she was to go about having Lord Applegate speak of what had taken place.
She would have to find a way to bring up the matter in some way but now, her nerves were beginning to tighten up every muscle in her body, making her heart beat a good deal more quickly.
“Lord Applegate. We have already been introduced, I think.”
Florence stopped short as her mother, who had been a few steps ahead of her, spoke directly to Lord Applegate, interrupting his conversation and speaking in such a loud voice, a few other heads turned towards them.
“Whatever is she doing?” Helena breathed, her face paling. “Lord Applegate is known for his criticism and his disagreeable nature. He will not take kindly to this!”
Florence did not know what to say. Her mother had always been determined, but this was something quite different from that. This was both brazen and discourteous, and Florence’s shame began to grow.
“I hear that some incident occurred recently where my daughter was injured,” Lady Grangemouth continued, seemingly unaware of the many other gentlemen and ladies that were now listening. “It was only a trifle, of course, but she states that it was entirely your doing, Lord Applegate. Is that so?”
Closing her eyes, Florence gripped Helena’s arm.
She had never once imagined that her mother would do something such as this!
Perhaps it came from her lack of belief in what Florence had said, her determination to prove Florence to be guilty that was pushing her into this improper questioning of Lord Applegate.
Whatever the cause, Florence wanted to turn around and walk to the opposite side of the room so that she would not be a part of this conversation any longer.
Her feet would not move.
“I beg your pardon?” Lord Applegate spoke quietly, but to Florence’s ears, it sounded as if he had shouted it from across the room. His eyes flicked this way and that until, suddenly, they fell upon her. His eyebrows shot upwards, and Florence flushed hot, mortified at her mother’s actions.
“My daughter, Lady Florence?” Without hesitating, without so much as considering why Lord Applegate appeared so astonished at her abrupt questioning, Lady Grangemouth continued. “She has informed me that what took place was entirely your fault, Lord Applegate. Is that what took place?”
Tell her the truth, I beg you. Florence’s silent plea was sent in Lord Applegate’s direction, but as she watched, his frown began to pull his eyebrows down low.
A glance around the room made his brow furrow hard, seeing the many others listening.
Her heart squeezed, her chest grew tight, and she swallowed thickly, praying that, despite the awkwardness of the situation, he would still be honest.
“Lord Applegate?” Lady Grangemouth tapped her foot impatiently, and Florence’s shame grew to even greater heights than before. Did her mother realize just what she was doing? How much she was shaming both herself and Florence?
“I do not know what you are speaking of, I am afraid.”
Lord Applegate’s words pierced Florence’s heart as she gasped in shock.
“Whatever injury you speak of, I am not to blame,” he continued, a trifle brusquely. “Now, if you will excuse me, I should like to return to my conversation.”
Florence’s mouth dropped open as she stared aghast at Lord Applegate.
The very next second, tears began to burn in her eyes as she caught the superior look on her mother’s face.
Turning away, she felt Helena’s arm around her shoulders but, shrugging it off, she pushed her way through the crowd and out of the ballroom entirely.