A Lady’s First Scandal

by Farmer, Merry

  Instead of speaking, Rupert closed his mouth and studied her. He raised a hand to brush her cheek, rubbing one spot particularly. She realized that she must have had flecks of blood on her face as well as her dress, like any other soldier in the field of battle.

  “I love how brave you are,” he said at last, his voice rich with emotion. “I love the way you’ve stood up for yourself these past few weeks, even when you were standing up against me.”

  “You do?” She blinked.

  “Yes, of course I do,” he said, a smile spreading across his face and into his eyes. He rested his hands on the sides of her face, studying her with deep affection. “I’ve been laboring under the mistaken impression that only men are soldiers, fighting for the empire and for what’s right. It never dawned on me that there was a war at home that was being fought with equal vigor, and that was experiencing equal casualties.” His smile dropped. “It sickens me to watch the way you have been treated, simply for speaking your mind.”

  “I’m used to it,” she told him. “For better or for worse. But that is precisely why it hurt so much for you to rush off to South Africa without consulting me, and for you to send back nothing but platitudes in your letters to me. I could have handled the full truth of your service.”

  He paused, as if instinct were pushing him to say that no, she couldn’t.

  “All I want, all any woman wants, is to be respected, especially by those who are dearest to us,” she went on, closing her hands over his and bringing them away from her face so that she could hold them. “It has felt so glorious to embrace confidence these last few weeks. I thought the scandal after that first ball would do me in, but I think it has been the making of me. I’ve never felt so happy or so alive. Freedom from the strictures of society is a glorious thing, but I have only been able to enjoy it because of you.” She twined her fingers through his. “Without you, fairly or unfairly, I would have been cast aside after a scandal like that. But because you stood by me—and I never believed for a moment that you were interested in Lady Claudia Denbigh, or any other lady, for that matter—because you remained faithful to me, I was able to rise. That is all I’ve wanted from the beginning.”

  “We are better when we’re together than when we’re apart,” Rupert agreed, smiling once more.

  “In so many ways,” Cece agreed, one eyebrow flickering mischievously.

  Rupert began to laugh, but the sound caught in his throat as a groan from the other room broke the sweetness of the moment. They both turned to stare at the solid wall, as though they could see through it to where Lord O’Shea was fighting for his life.

  “That’s a good sound,” Cece said, her voice shaking. “It means he’s still alive.”

  “He’ll fight,” Rupert agreed with a nod. “Fergus will fight with everything he has to stay alive. He’ll want to bring the men who did this to justice.”

  “I want to bring them to justice too,” Cece said, a bitter note in her voice.

  Rupert shifted to study her. “It won’t be an easy fight,” he said. “Denbigh is undoubtedly the one behind this.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Cece echoed. “But prejudice and cruelty like that cannot go unanswered. That is the fight that truly matters, not petty disagreements and grudges.”

  “I’ll do what I can with whatever influence my position in the House of Lords affords me,” Rupert went on. “But it may very well be that you can accomplish more with your May Flowers to change the hearts and minds of the most important people in the land.”

  “I’m not sure the high and mighty will every fully listen to us,” she said with a sigh.

  “They will have to.” Rupert smiled. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  His words and the strength behind them filled Cece with confidence. So much so that she was ready to take on the world when the door to their examination room burst open and Jack Craig stepped in, Freddy and Reese right behind him. Lord Herrington rushed to Henrietta, taking his sister in his arms to comfort her.

  Mr. Craig’s expression was less reassuring. “We caught the bastards,” he said, a rough edge of cockney slipping into his otherwise refined accent. “They’re being taken to Pentonville for questioning.”

  “Pentonville?” Cece gaped at him. “Isn’t that a bit extreme for questioning about an assault?”

  “It’s not extreme enough for attempted murder, if you ask me,” Rupert growled.

  Mr. Craig stepped closer to Cece, removing his hat. “Pentonville is relatively close by, and it’ll strike the fear of God into them,” he said. “I recognized one or two of the men as soon as they were apprehended. They’re known muscle for hire. There’s not anyone they wouldn’t attack for a few quid, high or low, saint or sinner.”

  “So Denbigh hired them,” Rupert said, rage infusing his words.

  Mr. Craig winced. “I would bet my life on it, but not one of them is confessing so far. Which tells me Denbigh paid them well. My men will do their best to extract a confession from them. In the meantime, I’ll head back to Scotland Yard and put my network to work ferreting out whatever information I can about any possible connections Denbigh has to those rats or any others.” He nodded to Cece and to Henrietta, who had risen from her chair and come to hear what Mr. Craig had to say. “Rest assured, this crime will not go unpunished.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Craig,” Henrietta said in a weary voice. Lord Herrington stood close by her side, one arm around her waist to support her.

  Of all things, the dire moment gave Cece hope. There were men in the world who stood ready to help those who could not help themselves, lovers and brothers, and even men like Reese, who had no immediate connection to either her or Henrietta, but who looked ready to fight until his last breath to advance their cause. With men like those, there was hope for the world.

  Mr. Craig turned to go, but he had barely stepped into the large waiting room and no one had time to shut the door to their examination room before the doctor stepped out from the other room. Rupert rushed into the waiting room to hear what he had to say, and Cece and Henrietta followed, Reese and Lord Herrington behind them.

  “Well?” Rupert asked, the picture of concern again. “How is he? Will he make it?”

  “Lord O’Shea has been grievously injured,” the doctor said in a grave voice. “I haven’t seen an attack this brutal in ages, perhaps in my entire career.”

  “But will he live?” Henrietta asked.

  The doctor took a deep breath and went on with a frown. “He has suffered several compound fractures of the arms and legs, several broken ribs, and a broken nose. In addition to that, a blow to the side of his head ruptured his eardrum and his left eye has been gouged in such a way that even if it can be saved, he has probably lost sight in it. That is without beginning to take into consideration internal injuries, of which I am certain there are many.”

  Cece gasped and held a hand to her mouth, her heart racing and her eyes stinging in horror. But there was more.

  The doctor went on. “I regret to say it, especially in front of the ladies, but I fear he may never be able to walk normally again, if at all, depending on the extent of the damage to his spine.” He turned to Rupert. “Does your friend have someone who could take care of him if he manages to pull through the next few hours? He could have a long convalescence.”

  “He does,” Rupert insisted. “He has friends. We will care for him if necessary.”

  He glanced to Cece, who nodded vigorously. She would have done anything for Lord O’Shea, knowing how much he’d done for Rupert.

  “Fergus can recuperate at Albany Court if he’d like to,” Reese said, proving that Rupert wasn’t the only one who would step in to help.

  “I would offer a home for him as well, if I had one,” Lord Herrington added.

  “He can stay at Tavistock House or at Tamar Abbey,” Henrietta offered, glancing to her brother with a rare show of vulnerability.

  “He has friends,” Rupert repeated for the doctor.

  “Good
.” The doctor nodded. “Then right now, I suggest you show your friendship by praying for his recovery. I’ll do what I can for him, but once he’s out of the woods, he should be moved to a proper hospital.”

  “We’ll make preparations,” Reese said.

  The doctor nodded and returned to the examination room to continue his attempts to save Lord O’Shea. There was nothing more for the rest of them to do but to head out of the infirmary and into the street.

  “I’ll let you know what else I’m able to discover,” Mr. Craig said before nodding to the ladies and hurrying off.

  “Denbigh is behind this,” Reese said with an ice-cold certainty that hinted to Cece what a powerful man he was behind his calm demeanor.

  “He will pay,” Freddy agreed, far more agitated.

  “If I see the man, I’ll give him as good as his goons gave Fergus,” Rupert growled.

  “Lord Denbigh isn’t the only one who should be held accountable for this,” Henrietta said with poorly disguised fury. “Others are to blame. Others who knew an attack was imminent and who did nothing to stop it.” She met Cece’s eyes.

  Lady Claudia. There was no doubt in Cece’s mind that Henrietta was talking about Lady Claudia and that she was right. Lady Claudia and her closest friends had been suspiciously absent from the cricket match after enough of a fuss had been made of the whole thing that no one wanted to miss it. She must have known, and saying nothing was as much of a betrayal as participating in the attack.

  “What can be done?” Cece asked, her own fury growing.

  Henrietta stepped away from her brother, standing tall and tilting her chin up. “It’s time the May Flowers decided once and for all what they stand for and what they will fight for going forward. And those who are not willing to stand by us will no longer be welcome in our ranks.”

  Cece swallowed, feeling as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice. “We must call a meeting immediately.”

  Henrietta nodded. “I’ll put the wheels in motion right away. We will all choose which side we stand on by the end of this day, and once the battle lines are drawn, we will advance.”

  Chapter 19

  Rupert took Cece home to Marlowe House so that she could change out of her soiled dress, then dashed over to Campbell House so that he could peel off his dirty cricket clothes, bathe, dress in something appropriate to the grave situation, then run back to Marlowe House. The sun was beginning to set by the time he climbed the stairs to his mother’s front door two at a time and burst through into the front hall.

  “What are you doing back here so soon?” Cece asked, her eyes going wide at the site of him. She’d dressed in a deep purple gown that hinted at mourning and had pinned a fresh flower to match on her breast. Her face was pale and drawn, though, and tension had her shoulders bunched. She was still the most beautiful woman Rupert had ever seen.

  “I’m going with you,” he told her. “To Lady Tavistock’s house.”

  Cece gaped at him for another long moment before shaking her head and marching past him out the door. “You can’t. The May Flowers is a women’s club. You aren’t invited to take part in our discussions.”

  “Maybe not,” Rupert said, following after her and catching up to her side as they hit the pavement in front of the house, “but I need to be there for you all the same. I need to be there for all of you.”

  Cece paused at the corner, turning to study him as they waited for a pair of carriages to pass, no doubt carrying the rich and careless on to some splashy event where they could forget their troubles, forget all troubles. She seemed decades older than the darling young woman he’d left behind when he enlisted. She carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, but she carried it capably. The site was humbling, and Rupert’s heart thudded in his chest at the possibility that he might be able to be a champion to the beautiful, powerful woman beside him and her partner in all things for the rest if his life, if he played his cards right.

  The carriages passed, and the two of them crossed the street and continued on.

  “I don’t know what will happen this evening,” she said as they hurried along the street, dodging a young maid on some sort of errand. “I feel as though something momentous will come out of this meeting, but I’m not sure it will be good.”

  “Whatever it is, I will support you in whatever step you choose to take because of it,” he said.

  They turned a corner, stepping out of the way of a lamplighter going about his work, and Cece glanced to him with a smile. It was an anxious smile, though, and she didn’t have anything to say afterwards.

  Tavistock House was close enough that they arrived in good time. It was a blessing that they walked, because a line of carriages was jostling for the best spots to drop off the ladies of the May Flowers. Those ladies were in agitated spirits the moment they stepped down and immediately began chattering to their friends and asking questions. The effect was like carts full of hens crashing together in the market, causing a jumble of noise and feathers and blocked in carriages.

  “Do you know what this is all about?” Lady Diana rushed forward to greet Cece with the question.

  “It must be about what happened at Lord’s this afternoon,” Lady Beatrice hurried up beside her, taking Cece’s hand, her face pinched with worry. “Do you know how Lord O’Shea is?” she asked tremulously.

  Cece tried to answer, but tears shone in her eyes and she swallowed. She turned to Rupert, who answered, “He survived the initial attack. We are still waiting to hear if the doctor was able to repair his internal injuries.” It was the best answer he could give.

  “We’ve all been praying for him,” Lady Beatrice said, turning to nod at a pale-faced group of ladies who had been at Lord’s.

  Their fluttering was cut short as a large carriage with the Denbigh crest pushed its way to the front of the line. A boy hopped down from the back and rushed to open the door. Rupert, Cece, and the ladies clustered around them watched with baited breath as Lady Claudia stepped down, a pair of friends behind her. She was dressed in a festive shade of yellow, her gown of the latest fashion and far too exuberant for the occasion. Most telling of all, though, was that neither Lady Claudia nor her friends wore the purple flower that the rest of the May Flowers wore.

  “This cannot be a good sign,” Lady Diana said, pressing a hand to her chest.

  Lady Claudia shifted slightly to glance in Rupert’s direction. She gave him a dismissive look, then glared outright at Cece. Once that message was communicated, she stood stiffer, tilted her chin up, and marched forward and up the stairs into Tavistock House, her friends flanking her.

  The energy of the milling crowd of ladies shifted, and they all rushed to follow Lady Claudia into the house. Rupert knew full well that he wasn’t invited or allowed, but he marched on at Cece’s side all the same. The fact that she didn’t try to stop him was a dead giveaway of just how serious the situation was.

  A team of servants were waiting in the hall to take the ladies’ hats and coats. Rupert managed to slip past them while the ensemble was distracted. He followed the din of voices down the hall and into what was very possibly the grandest sitting room he’d ever seen. Every inch of it was feminine to the core, with sprays of flowers on the wallpaper, vases of flowers placed between windows curtained with pink damask silk, and an array of chairs and sofas that were proportioned for a lady’s form. He managed to station himself near the door, beside a concealing potted plant, and to stand as still as possible in the hope that no one would notice him.

  His efforts weren’t entirely successful, though. Lady Tavistock stood at the front of the room, issuing orders to her staff and friends alike. She was dressed as somberly as Cece and wore her hair in a simple style, far different from the ostentatious way she presented herself to the world. She spotted Rupert at the back of the room right away. Their eyes met, but rather than launching into action to have him thrown out, all she did was nod once before going back to her orders.

  It was as
close as Rupert was going to get to permission to witness the meeting. He slipped farther behind the plant, loath to upset any of the women by his presence. His concealment was good enough that when Cece swept into the room with Lady Diana and Lady Beatrice by her side, she didn’t notice him.

  “Ladies, if you would please come to order,” Lady Tavistock called from the front of the room.

  A dull thunder of ladies taking their seats, or, in the case of Cece, marching to the front of the room to stand near Lady Tavistock’s side, followed. Once all the ladies were facing in the opposite direction, Rupert stepped out of his hiding place. A few in the back spotted him, but they were too distracted to do more than blink at him in wonder.

  “I’ve called you all here this evening, taking you away from your balls and soirees, because a terrible thing happened today. Lord Fergus O’Shea was attacked at Lord’s Cricket Grounds this afternoon while taking part in a match that the May Flowers were involved in.”

  A chorus of murmurs rose from the ladies, most of them shocked and dismayed, but some of them far less kind.

  “Furthermore,” Lady Tavistock went on, “and sadly, we have reason to believe that some of our own numbers were involved in this cruel and brutal attack.” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

  “How dare you?” Lady Claudia exclaimed, jumping to her feet and putting a stop to any show of tenderness on Lady Tavistock’s part. “How dare you make such wicked accusations?”

  Rage clenched Rupert’s gut for a moment before he could breathe through it. Did Lady Claudia have no sense at all that she accused herself with her words?

  “This is outrageous slander and I will not stand for it,” Lady Claudia went on, proving that no, she didn’t.

  It seemed that the rest of the May Flowers were in no mood to pretend either.

  “You were suspiciously absent from the cricket match,” Lady Diana said. Several of the ladies who had been there nodded and hummed in confirmation.