Chapter 22
William entered the small sitting room just before supper.
His aunt and Lady Spencer were seated near the window, a portfolio of sketches spread across the table between them.
Lady Arabella held one of the drawings up to the light.
William felt a brief, unwelcome flicker of annoyance that they were still there, but he pushed it aside and stepped forward, keeping his manner polite.
“This one is pleasant,” she said. “The orchard looks peaceful.”
Lady Spencer nodded. “The artist captured the angle of the branches well.”
William stopped a few steps inside the room. “Aunt.”
Lady Spencer looked up. “William. We were only passing the time.”
“I need a word,” he said. “Privately.”
Lady Arabella glanced between them, then rose. “I will leave you both.”
When she had gone, William closed the door. Lady Spencer set the sketch aside and sat up straighter.
“What is it?” she asked.
William did not sit. He knew the question was direct and abrupt, but he did not want to waste any time. “I want the truth. Were you responsible for the rumors that forced Mrs. Shaw from Lady Vane’s household?”
Lady Spencer’s expression remained calm. “I was concerned for the family’s reputation. Nothing more.”
“That is not an answer,” William said.
She folded her hands. “I spoke to Lady Vane because I saw a situation forming that could harm you. I acted out of duty.”
William stepped closer. “You warned her.”
Lady Spencer’s voice cooled. “Yes. Someone needed to protect the Roxburghe name. Your familiarity with Mrs. Shaw had become noticeable, and it was only a matter of time before others spoke of it.”
“Her dismissal was cruel,” William said.
“It was unfortunate,” Lady Spencer replied, “but necessary. Society will never accept a duke growing attached to a widowed companion. You know that.”
William’s jaw tightened. “Mrs. Shaw has always conducted herself with complete propriety.”
“That is not the issue,” Lady Spencer said. “It is your behavior that invited speculation. So, I did what you would not.”
William stared at her, not knowing what to say.
Lady Spencer lifted the sketch again, her tone final. “It is done, William.”
He remained silent as the anger rose inside of him.
“You ruined her position,” he said, forcing himself to keep his tone calm. “You knew what would happen once you spoke to Lady Vane.”
Lady Spencer did not flinch. “I did what you were too blinded to do yourself.”
“Blinded?” William stepped closer. “I saw a capable woman doing her work. You saw something else and acted on it without a thought for her livelihood.”
Lady Spencer’s tone remained calm, almost detached. “I acted for the sake of the family. You forget your place when you speak of her, and a duke cannot afford such familiarity.”
“She lost her home,” William said. “Her income. Her security. You caused that.”
Lady Spencer folded her hands. “I prevented a greater problem. You may not like my methods, but they were necessary.”
William stared at his aunt, fighting to keep his anger from bubbling over. “Necessary,” he repeated quietly. “You call it necessary to destroy an innocent woman’s position.”
Lady Spencer met his eyes without wavering. “I call it protecting the Roxburghe name.”
The room fell still. William took a deep breath as he finally understood, with a certainty that left no room for doubt, that his aunt’s interference had gone far beyond simple concern.
He excused himself from the sitting room, and when he stepped into the hallway, he found Lady Arabella standing near the wall, examining a painting.
She straightened. “Is everything well, Your Grace?”
He kept his tone polite. “Yes. You may go back in and finish enjoying the artwork. My aunt will be glad of your company.”
Lady Arabella nodded once. “Of course.” She turned and entered the room, her steps barely making a sound as she crossed the floor.
William walked down the corridor and out through the nearest door, needing a moment of air.
The grounds were still, the sky beginning to dim.
He walked the length of the gravel path, then paused near the hedge, aware that supper would begin soon.
After a few breaths, he turned back toward the house.
Once inside he realized that the atmosphere had changed. The children were already in the dining room, Henry speaking animatedly to Clara about their crowns.
Mrs. Shaw stood near them, guiding Clara’s chair closer to the table. She did not normally dine with the family, but the footman told him that Lady Spencer had insisted that they make the evening “a pleasant gathering,” and had extended the invitation herself.
“Mrs. Shaw,” Lady Spencer said as she entered, “you will join us tonight. It will be an event for the children.”
Mrs. Shaw nodded her head. “As you wish.”
William took his seat. The children ate first, chattering softly between bites. Clara leaned against her mother’s arm, still a bit sleepy from her nap. Henry tried to sit as straight as his father, glancing at him now and then.
When their plates were cleared, Lady Spencer gave a gentle instruction. “You may both go to the nursery now.”
Henry stood at once. Clara followed, leaving her hand in Mrs. Shaw’s for a moment before the maid guided them out.
Once the children were gone, the atmosphere in the room changed. The servants cleared the last of the dishes, and the door closed behind them with a soft click. Lady Spencer settled more comfortably in her chair, her posture composed.
Lady Arabella tried to begin with something harmless. “I heard Mrs. Denham’s niece is to be married,” she said. “They say the match was arranged in only a fortnight.”
Lady Spencer gave a small, knowing sound. “A fortnight is more than enough time when a family is eager to secure its position. Her uncle has been speaking rather boldly about the connection. It seems he believes it will raise their standing.”
Lady Arabella hesitated. “I suppose people talk.”
“They always talk,” Lady Spencer replied. “Especially when there is something worth discussing.”
William kept his expression steady. “Some matters are exaggerated.”
Lady Spencer lifted her wine glass. “Exaggerated, yes. But not invented.”
She took a small sip, then set the glass down with deliberate care. “It is remarkable how quickly appearances can shift. One must be mindful of how things look.”
Lady Arabella glanced toward her. “Mindful, yes,” she said quietly.
“Appearances are not always accurate,” William said, keeping his tone even.
Lady Spencer folded her hands. “They are accurate enough to cause trouble. For example, Lady Vane had little choice but to release Mrs. Shaw once concerns were raised.”
William snapped his head toward Mrs. Shaw, embarrassed that his aunt was speaking so plainly.
Mrs. Shaw lifted her head slightly. “Concerns?”
Lady Spencer’s tone stayed calm. “About the familiarity between a duke and a widowed companion. People notice these things.”
Lady Arabella shifted in her seat. “It was spoken of?”
“It was,” Lady Spencer said. She looked directly at William, then at Mrs. Shaw. “And I warned Lady Vane myself. It was necessary.”
The words hung over the room. Mrs. Shaw’s breath caught, though she kept her posture composed. William’s jaw tightened, but he did not speak.
Lady Spencer continued, her voice coldly smooth. “I believed it best to prevent further misunderstanding. Reputation is fragile.”
The comment was met with silence.
Mrs. Shaw lowered her gaze for a moment, then lifted it again, her expression strained but controlled. Lady Arabella looked between them, uneasy, her hands tightening around her napkin.
Mrs. Shaw turned toward William slowly, her expression steady yet unmistakably wounded. She realized at once that he already knew the truth. William saw the understanding form in her eyes.
She must think this is why I offered her the governess position so quickly. She must think this is why guilt has followed every reassurance I have given her. And she must think this is why I have been so determined to protect her.
“You knew,” she said. “You knew what she had done, and you kept it from me. You allowed me to stay here without saying a word.”
William leaned forward slightly. “Mrs. Shaw, I meant to explain. I only wanted…”
“To spare me?” Her voice tightened. “Or to spare yourself?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but Lady Spencer spoke before he could form a single word.
“I believed Mrs. Shaw deserved honesty,” Lady Spencer said, her tone smooth and triumphant. “It was better to prevent further misunderstandings.”
Mrs. Shaw turned toward her. “Honesty,” she repeated quietly.
Lady Spencer lifted her chin. “Yes. It was time the matter was clear.”
William looked at Mrs. Shaw, unable to speak, knowing that the moment was already lost.
Mrs. Shaw rose from the table without another word. She left the room quickly, holding her head high, but he saw the pain in her face as she walked out the door.
He remained seated, knowing that his aunt had achieved exactly what she intended.
He shook his head, stood up, and walked out of the room without saying another word.