Chapter 18
Eighteen
“You look stunning, Lady Deena.” Elise smiled brightly at her.
Deena stood before the cheval mirror in her chamber, arms raised inelegantly as Elise dressed her.
“Thank you, Elise. You chose a wonderful dress for me.” Deena’s voice was low and rough with emotion.
The pale green gown felt too tight across her ribs, or perhaps it was her own breathing that refused to settle properly.
She was unsure, and she did not care much about it either.
She winced, not from the stays, but from the dull, gnawing ache that had settled behind her breastbone the moment she woke.
“Did the footman leave any letters for me?” she asked Elise quietly.
“No, my lady.”
Deena felt a tight knot in the pit of her stomach.
Furthermore, she felt awful, soiled, and used.
No amount of rose-water or lavender soap could wash away the scent of him.
She could still feel the imprint of Austin’s hands on her waist, the slow drag of his mouth down her throat, and the way he’d whispered her name like it was a prayer.
She could still taste him on the tip of her tongue, and the memory sent a traitorous pulse of heat low in her belly even now.
She hated herself for it, hated that she needed more of him.
Elise tugged the last lace tight and stepped back, tilting her head. “Are you feeling faint, Lady Deena?”
Deena forced a smile that felt like cracking porcelain. “Yes, I’m just tired. It was a long, restless night.”
The maid gave her an apologetic look. “I will start with your hair.”
Elise wasted no time; she grabbed a handful of ivory ribbons and motioned for Deena to sit.
Deena silently prayed that the day would end already as she sat on an embroidered ottoman in front of the mirror.
Fear mixed with her growing desire for Austin.
She planned to leave the game early and deliver her new article before the sun set on the horizon; she could only pray that it would buy them some time.
Deena noticed that her maid tied her best satin ribbons in her hair.
“Elise, satin ribbons? I’m curious to know what the special occasion is?”
Elise stopped and looked at Deena, dumbstruck. “Haven’t you heard, Lady Deena?”
“Please enlighten me,” Deena answered her indifferently.
“Today…” the maid smiled playfully. “His Grace, the Duke of Windemere, chooses his lady for a private dinner.”
Deena’s stomach flipped so violently that she pressed a hand to it.
The Duke of Windemere. Austin.
The name alone was enough to make her knees unsteady. Her body instantly craved his touch. Austin had left his marks all over her as if she belonged to him and only him.
And she had let him and begged him. Now the clock was ticking, and time was up.
Elise was still talking, oblivious to Deena’s shame. “They say Lady Amelia has purchased two gowns, just in case. And Lady Ann’s mama is trying to convince her daughter not to fall for the Duke. But I think…” She leaned in, conspiratorially. “I think he has eyes only for one lady this week.”
Deena’s throat closed.
She managed a thin smile. “I hope all goes well for the Duke of Windemere.”
Elise’s face fell.
“I’m sure he’ll choose wisely,” Deena continued, but the words left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Yes, Lady Deena,” Elise agreed, although she was clearly disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm.
She continued to pin and braid Deena’s hair in silence. Deena was grateful for the silence, but her thoughts began to unravel slowly. She was not ready to face him after last night. She felt too weak, too seen by a man who was blind when it came to the hearts of women.
“You’re all ready for breakfast, then.” Elise interrupted her thoughts, and Deena pretended to admire the elaborate hairstyle.
“Thank you, Elise. It’s beautiful.”
“Do you require any changes, Lady Deena?” Elise asked her gently.
“No, that is all.”
Deena waited until the door clicked shut behind Elise before she got up and sank onto the edge of her bed with trembling hands.
I am truly a scandalous woman.
This time it was worse than before because she had done something that she ought not to have done.
Before, she had been innocent, caught in a library with nothing more than a book and bad timing. But now she had chosen it. Chosen Austin. Chosen every gasp, every touch, every moment she’d arched into his hand and whispered his name fervently.
Dominic would be devastated if he found out. Deena groaned.
She could picture her brother’s face. He would show quiet disappointment first, then the slow burn of anger and protective resolve that had sent her to Paris the first time would surface.
“What were you thinking, Dee?” he would say in that terribly low voice. “After everything we went through to keep you safe? After I sent you away so you wouldn’t be torn apart by the ton again?”
She pressed her palms to her eyes.
I can’t face him.
I can’t face anyone.
But she had to. She had come so far and lied so much just to protect everyone from the hurtful truth. She had to do it for herself and for Penelope.
She had to find Austin.
Deena sighed and rose, smoothing her skirts and squaring her shoulders. She descended the grand staircase slowly until she reached the breakfast room and heard the murmurs grow louder.
The butler opened the door for her, and she stepped into the room. A hushed silence fell upon the crowd, and she immediately felt all eyes on her.
What is going on?
“Good morning,” Deena greeted Lady Amelia and the group of ladies she sat with, who were all staring, smirking, and gaping at her.
Lady Amelia scoffed in response and continued eating her breakfast. She was always quite rude towards Deena, but the new standoffish behavior was surprising.
The ladies around her followed her actions like sheep.
Deena decided to ignore them just like they ignored her, but as she continued to her seat, she overheard her name being whispered.
“Lady Deena’s utterly shameless,” Lady Amelia hissed disgustedly, and the girls around her mumbled in agreement.
Deena’s skin prickled as she realized that some of the lords and ladies had a paper in hand and seemed to be glancing her way.
“Ever since she came back to London, she’s been as bold as brass…”
Deena’s stomach plummeted; she stopped in her tracks, and heads turned in her direction.
The room went eerily silent.
A fan snapped shut. Mouths pursed into thin lines and eyes widened, then narrowed in her direction before the whispers started again, louder, and bolder this time.
“She has some nerve showing her face here, and the Dowager permitted this?”
“After what she did? Polluting Paris and London with her filthy behavior.”
“You know what they say? Birds of a feather…”
Deena stood frozen to her spot. She began to feel lightheaded. She looked around for Selina or Dominic but did not find them.
Oh, dear God, help me.
Panic surged through her as she saw Miss Waldron approach her from across the room. She waited for an insult or perhaps a judgmental look before being ignored.
“Lady Deena.” Miss Waldron surprised her when she gently placed a hand over Deena’s shoulder.
“Miss Waldron, it will be safer if you don’t associate yourself with me,” Deena said coldly.
Miss Waldron flinched but did not leave her.
“I am sure you noticed by now that I am not one to believe in gossip, Lady Deena,” she responded sternly, and Deena believed her.
Deena glanced at The Daily Scribe in one of the lord’s hands; she was too terrified to ask for it. The blackmailer did not give her time. What personal sins of hers would she find scrawled across the pages for the whole of London to see?
“Come with me, Lady Deena.” Miss Waldron still held onto her and slowly led her to a quieter spot where the whispers eventually died down.
Deena sat and exhaled loudly.
“Thank you, Miss Waldron.” Miss Waldron looked at her compassionately before glaring at a group of ladies who quickly looked away.
“Bunch of vultures,” she muttered under her breath.
Deena let out a small laugh that did not ease the panic that continued to rise in the pit of her stomach.
“I should read it,” she said, surrendering to her doom.
“You don’t have to.” Miss Waldron gave her a sympathetic look.
The last thing I need is sympathy.
“Is it that bad?” Deena was afraid of the answer, and Miss Waldron’s expression said it all. “Oh, heavens.”
Miss Waldron patted her knee and opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by the high-pitched voice of Lady Ann.
“Well, Lady Deena. I must say, you have courage returning to London at all.” Lady Ann and her mother towered over, smirking and rejoicing at her downfall. “One would think five years abroad might have taught you some modesty.”
“You know what they say, darling. Once ruined, always ruined,” her mother added.
The two ladies laughed and turned to leave when Miss Waldron stepped in front of them.
“That’s rich coming from a lady who’s been attending the Duke Hunt for almost three unsuccessful years. I can only imagine why the men run from you.”
Lady Ann stood stunned as her mother pointed a crooked finger in Miss Waldron’s face. “How dare you—”
“Oh, hush! You two can’t even live without each other. Nobody wants to marry a woman and her mother. Go eat your breakfast and worry about your own daughter’s reputation.”
Deena gaped as Lady Ann and her mother flushed bright red in front of Miss Waldron.
“Come, Ann. We shouldn’t waste our time with another good-for-nothing spinster,” Lady Fairchild muttered.
“Do not speak of her like that!” Deena rose abruptly. She couldn’t let another friend get crushed under the words of entitled scum. “Thank you, Miss Waldron, but I don’t need anyone to fight my battles.”
Lady Ann chuckled.
“Is something funny?” Deena glared at her.
“I just wonder, Lady Deena, that perhaps you should allow yourself to be saved this time.” Lady Ann leered at her.