Chapter 4 #2
Gregory broke away and lowered his weapon. “What will you do now? You never answered.”
Ronan’s jaw tightened. “I will find another bride. Sarah requires a mother.”
“Oh?”
“She is lonely,” he said. “Her governess confirmed it this morning. She needs affection, companionship, and someone who understands children.”
“And you’re not capable of giving her that?”
“When I enter a room, she becomes quiet. I don’t think I’m capable of giving her what she needs, and marriage is the only solution to this.”
They stopped fencing, and Gregory went quiet for a few moments. It was almost worse than his constant banter.
“Do you have anyone in mind?” he asked finally.
“I suppose we will need to find out.”
“A jealous debutante driven to madness by the sight of Phillipa marrying a duke,” Matilda announced.
“Is that what they’re calling me?”
“That’s one of the nicer things, yes.”
Augusta closed her eyes. Her sisters had been reading the scandal sheets together, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or be horrified.
Charity reached across the table and calmly removed the paper from Matilda’s hands. “I think that is quite enough.”
“I was only reading aloud,” Matilda replied.
Augusta turned to her sister. “Let her read it. She will hear the stories elsewhere if we attempt to hide them.”
“That does not mean she must recite it,” Charity said. “This is hard enough already.”
“You did stand in the middle of a church and accuse a duke of murder,” Matilda giggled. “It is rather strange to see your name in the scandal sheets.”
Augusta stared at her.
“I have to say, though, I am relieved that if I ever behave improperly, no one can say that I am the first sister to disgrace the family.”
Charity nearly choked on her tea. Augusta gave Matilda a severe look, but it was difficult to maintain her irritation when Charity began laughing behind her hand.
“I did not disgrace the family,” Augusta said.
“One paper says you may never receive another invitation; another says no respectable gentleman will court you.”
Augusta reached for the paper. “Give me that.”
“Neither of you will read another word,” Charity placed it out of reach.
Matilda settled back in her chair. “I still think Augusta looks very calm for a woman whose prospects have been declared entirely destroyed.”
But Augusta said nothing in response, and that silenced the room more effectively than Charity’s warning had done. Matilda’s expression softened, and Charity looked at Augusta with immediate concern.
For several days, carriages had slowed outside Blackstone Manor as curious members of society attempted to discover whether she could be glimpsed through the glass.
Calling cards had arrived from friends offering support, strangers offering advice, and several women Augusta barely knew who plainly hoped to hear every detail.
It was not the damage to her own reputation that troubled her most. But rather the fact that Charity and Duncan had been drawn into the scandal.
Duncan’s name appeared beside hers in every report, usually accompanied by questions about whether he had encouraged the accusation or intended to defend her through legal action.
Charity had been called reckless for supporting her sister. Even Matilda had been mentioned once, though thankfully only as an unnamed younger relation.
Augusta folded her hands upon the table. ”I should have considered what this would do to both of you.”
“You considered what you believed would happen to Phillipa if you remained silent,” Charity’s tone gentled.
“I might have spoken to Duncan instead of standing in front of the entire church.”
“I agree, but if anything, you stopped a wedding that Phillipa did not want,” Charity reminded her.
“I also accused an innocent man of murder.”
That morning’s conversation with the constable remained painfully clear. She had told him everything she remembered, and he had responded with questions of his own.
Had she seen the man’s face?
No.
Had she watched him harm the woman?
No.
Could she say with certainty that the body discovered at Merrigold was the same one she had seen?
No.
Then he had explained that the Duke of Ravenhill had been observed throughout the engagement party.
He had spent the greater part of the evening in the card room with several gentlemen whose accounts agreed.
Servants had brought wine, removed empty glasses and attended the fire.
No one had seen him leave for the gardens.
The alibi was nearly impossible to dispute.
“The constable believed me at first,” Augusta said. “Or at least he believed that I saw something. But he made it clear that Ravenhill could not have been in the garden at the time.”
Charity set down her cup. “Did he say the duke was seen without interruption?”
“He said several gentlemen recalled him at the card table throughout the evening. One of the servants remembered spilling wine near his chair not long before I came inside.”
“Could all of them be lying?” Matilda frowned.
“Five gentlemen and three servants would require a reason to tell the same lie.”
“Perhaps dukes are very persuasive.”
Charity gave Matilda a warning look.
“The constable also explained that the cane may have been copied. Ravenhill’s family crest is a raven. There may be household servants, relatives, or others connected to the estate who use the same symbol.”
Charity reached for Augusta’s hand. “The constables now know what you saw. That may still help them find the person responsible.”
“I hope so,” Augusta replied. “But it does not repair what I did to the duke, I suppose.”
A knock sounded at the door before Charity could answer. The butler entered and bowed.
“Your Grace,” he said to Charity, “the Duke of Ravenhill has arrived. He requests an audience with His Grace and Lady Augusta.”
Matilda’s eyes widened, and Augusta was immediately nervous.
He’s finally arrived.
Charity rose immediately. “Where is my husband?”
“In his study, Your Grace. He has been informed.”
“Tell the Duke of Ravenhill that Lady Augusta will join them shortly.”
The butler bowed and withdrew.
Matilda looked at Augusta. “Do you think he has come to have you arrested?”
Augusta pushed back her chair. “He has come because Duncan promised to repay the injury.”
Charity’s expression tightened. “Whatever Ravenhill demands, you are not obliged to agree merely because you feel guilty.”
“I should at least hear him.”
“Yes,” Charity said. “But you will remember that Duncan is your brother-in-law, not your keeper. He cannot offer anything on your behalf without your consent.”
“I’ll find out.”
“I am coming with you,” Charity said.
“The duke asked for Duncan and me,” Augusta said, glancing at her sister. “You need not defend me from every unpleasant conversation.”
“Hush,” she said, and followed her out of the room. Duncan’s study door stood open. The duke waited near the fireplace, one hand resting upon his cane.
He turned as Augusta entered. His expression revealed nothing, but his gaze remained upon her for several seconds before moving to Charity.
“Ronan Parsons, the Duke of Ravenhill,” he introduced himself with ease. “I requested an audience with Blackford and Lady Augusta.”
“Yes, we were made aware of your request. However, Your Grace, I am the older sister, and I cannot sit idle either,” Charity closed the door behind her. “My sister should not be expected to face this conversation without me.”
“Very well,” he said, opting not to argue further. Augusta thought that this was odd. She didn’t take the duke to be someone who conceded easily.
Augusta took the chair nearest Duncan’s desk. Charity remained beside her rather than sitting, while Duncan looked toward Ronan.
“You said at the church that you would visit when you had decided what repayment you required,” Duncan began. “I assume that is why you are here.”
“It is,” Ronan replied.
Duncan’s voice remained controlled. “Before you name it, I wish to repeat my apology. What Augusta did was reckless, and the consequences to your reputation were considerable. I will do what I reasonably can to repair the damage.”
Ronan’s eyes shifted to Augusta. “Do you agree with his assessment? That you falsely accused me.”
Augusta held his gaze. “I spoke with the constable this morning. He confirmed that you were seen throughout the engagement party. I accept that you were not the man I saw.”
“And do you regret what you said in the church?”
“I regret the damage to your name,” she sighed.
Duncan stepped around the desk. “Name your compensation, there is no need to make her apologize like this.”