A knock sounded at the door, and Montrose bid whomever it was to enter while Chastity prayed it would not be more guests arriving to witness her embarrassment.
Chapman entered, extending an envelope to Lady Lucianna without a word before pivoting and exiting the room and pulling the door closed behind him.
Montrose and Luci appeared to expect the intrusion, and the duke’s betrothed quickly broke the seal and opened the letter. When Luci’s shoulders sagged, Montrose rubbed her back, whispering something in her ear.
“What is it?” Ophelia stood and hurried to Luci’s side, as did Edith.
Chastity followed suit, though a little more reluctantly. Despite their many months as friends, she was not always certain the trio accepted her and Pru within their close-knit circle. It didn’t matter. Chastity saw the women as more than mere friends. She longed to see them as sisters, just as Edith had become her kin when she wed Triston.
“My father…” Luci sniffed as her eyes grew heavy with tears, her blue irises twinkling in the candlelight. “He will be tardy to the wedding—if he is able to attend at all.”
Chastity had been witness to Luci’s father’s cruelty. The man had gone so far as to forbid his daughter from wedding Montrose and refused to stand by the couple or give his consent to their union. It hadn’t broken Luci’s resolve or diminished her love for Montrose. In the end, it had been decided that Montrose would host the wedding and celebration at Oxburgh Hall, and the planning had proceeded with Luci’s mother at the helm.
With Edith to one side and Ophelia on the other, Chastity moved to stand behind Luci to show her support.
Luci’s head fell forward, and her raven hair slipped over her shoulders, giving Chastity occasion to read the note in Luci’s hand.
“He says to carry on without him.” Luci hiccupped. “Not that this is the first—or the last time—my father will miss such an important day.”
Sorrow and outrage for Luci coursed through Chastity. She’d heard stories of Luci’s father’s depravity before, it was even rumored that he attended Luci’s coming out ball with his mistress, while Lady Camden and their children watched. Chastity’s own father wasn’t attentive to his children but he wasn’t prone to such outward displays of rakish behavior.
“We knew this might happen,” Edith consoled her friend. “We are all here, and when your father arrives, I am certain he will be happy for you.”
Edith’s murmurs of support faded as Chastity focused on the letter. The missive was short and to the point, signed not Father or Papa, but Cam.
Cam?
How had Chastity forgotten that Lady Luci’s father was Lord Camden?
Could he be…?
Her chest constricted, making it impossible to breathe.
Had Lord Camden known her mother? She’d never once heard her father speak of Luci’s family, nor had Chastity known of Lord Camden and his family before Edith came into their lives.
She needed to speak with Prudence, talk through what she feared might be true. Her sister would set her straight and confirm there was no chance their mother’s dearest Cam was Luci’s father, Lord Camden. If they were one and the same, it would change everything.
The mystery surrounding her mother’s dearest Cam had lain closer to home than she’d ever expected. Luci’s raven-hued hair; tall, willowy stature; and bright eyes were in direct opposition to Chastity’s light brown locks, and shorter, plumper frame.
The room closed in around her. Chastity focused on the closed door to the salon, drawing in a deep breath to calm her racing heart and still her shaking hands as she patted Luci on the back—a useless gesture to console the woman.
“I think it is time I return above stairs.” Lord Mansfield had stood from the lounge and was already edging his way toward the door. Chastity couldn’t blame him. He was newly acquainted with nearly everyone in the room, and he likely sensed that Lady Luci needed a spot of privacy—or he ran from the ensuing bout of maudlin feminine hysterics. If he’d been better acquainted with the group—as a whole—he’d know that Luci was in no way prone to outbursts of tears or any form of sentimentality another could misguidedly see as a weakness. If there was one thing Luci was not, it was weak. She was one of the strongest women Chastity had ever met.
In fact, it was something Chastity had in common with the trio: they were all well-versed in handling situations without needing help. Not many months ago, Edith had saved Triston from a bullet to the chest. Luci had outsmarted Lord Abercorn and evaded his courtship. And Ophelia…for a woman commonly lost in a book, she had firsthand knowledge of adventure.
They were the reason Chastity had agreed to keep her mother’s letter a secret.
Because she was determined to solve the mystery—and discover who she was and where she belonged. A part of Chastity needed to know the truth before anyone else around her.
“My day of travel was long and exhausting. I promised my mother I would check on her before the hour grew too late.”
“It was lovely to have you join us, Lord Mansfield.” Luci suppressed her upset and straightened her shoulders to give Bastian a farewell wave. “Do enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“If you or Lady Mansfield are in need of anything, do not hesitate to ring for my servants.” Montrose hurried ahead of Bastian and opened the door.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Bastian said with a quick bow to the group. “It was a pleasure to meet everyone. I bid you all goodnight.”
Before Bastian turned to leave, his eyes briefly met Chastity’s, and he gave a final nod before turning sharply and departing the room. No one stepped forward to close the door. Edith and Ophelia focused once more on Luci, their heads falling together as they spoke quietly. The men congregated near the sideboard, Roderick gruffly cursing Luci’s father under his breath as he poured drinks for the men.
Once again, Chastity was an outsider looking in.
She knew the women did not intend such a thing.
Certainly, she could align with them and give platitudes over Lord Camden’s despicable ways, or join her brother, Roderick, and Colin at the sideboard despite their ungentlemanly word choices.
However, neither felt exactly right.
Chastity wasn’t part of Edith’s trio, and she had no business inserting herself in the men’s discussion either.
Bastian’s footsteps echoed down the hall, growing farther and farther away.
“I think I should find Prudence,” she proclaimed before she could change her mind. “I am very sorry about Lord Camden being delayed, Luci.”
“It is as it always is, I fear.” Luci lifted her chin, her natural, easy demeanor returning. “I should have expected nothing less from my sire.”
“Goodnight.” Chastity started for the door, hoping to catch up with Bastian before he disappeared up the stairs.
“Chastity.” Edith’s light voice halted her before she made good on her escape. “Do not forget the horseback riding excursion tomorrow. You and Prudence promised to accompany us.”
It had been years since either she or her sister had sat upon a horse, let alone spent an entire morning galloping about the countryside. They had agreed because…well, they both found it difficult to deny their sister-in-law anything. Simply because Edith never required much of them at all. She was one of the few people who respected Prudence’s desire to remain overlooked and unbothered in the shadows of all social functions. While their father—and Triston to a certain extent—had prodded them to be less reserved and more like other debutantes, Edith had accepted the sisters for who they were.
No expectations. No reservations. No stinging rebuff when Chastity did not live up to what others anticipated from so-called proper young ladies of the ton.
“We are looking forward to the outing, dear sister.”
Edith’s gaze narrowed in disbelief on Chastity, silently challenging her, but she had no intention of crumbling under Edith’s scrutiny. She’d promised to accompany her brother and sister-in-law on
the outing and, bloody hell, she’d do just that, even if she had to tie herself to the sidesaddle.
Chastity strained to hear any hint of Bastian in the hall and was rewarded with the faintest sound of footfalls. He would reach the stairs at any moment and disappear.
Chastity smiled broadly. “I relish the opportunity to wear my new riding habit.”
When Edith’s suspicious glare fled, Chastity was confident that she’d satisfied the woman. She pivoted and walked from the room.
Chastity kept a sedate pace only until she was out of sight and then she grasped her skirts in both hands and ran down the hallway. Her pursuit of Bastian made little sense, except for the fact that he was the only lord who’d taken notice of her since her arrival. If she wanted to shed her wallflower ways, Lord Mansfield was as good a man as any to practice with.
If she blundered, he would not ridicule her.
He’d had every chance to mock her scandalous admission by the moat—or, at least avoid her after it. Yet, he’d gladly taken a seat next to her in the salon.
“My lord.” She gulped, drawing air deep into her lungs as she skidded around the final corner and entered the foyer. “Wait, Lord Mansfield.”
His shoulders tensed, but he turned around to face her, one foot on the first step ready to ascend. “Lady Chastity.” He inclined his head…and waited. When she remained quiet, he removed his foot from the stair and faced her fully, his stare focused on her face.
Yes, she’d called for him to halt. But what would she say was her reason for chasing after him?
“I—well…Lady Torrington wished for me to inquire after your plans for tomorrow. You see…there is an outing planned. Horseback riding…to the village.” She rambled and stuttered before cringing. “What I mean to say, my lord, is that I have been invited on the outing and would very much enjoy your company.”
Her forthright invitation startled her.
From Bastian’s raised brow, he was taken aback by her direct request, as well.
“May I escort you upstairs?” he asked.
On the surface, his question was far more inappropriate than her invite, but when he held out his arm, Chastity lightly set her gloved hand at his elbow, the heat from his skin burning through the layers of fabric that separated bare flesh from bare flesh. “I was on my way to my room to check on my sister.”
Bastian glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as they started up the stairs, and Chastity could not help but wonder if the sensation, the connection had been felt by him, too. “And I thought you’d fled the salon—abandoning your friends—to ask after my plans for tomorrow.” He pouted ever so slightly. “I am confident enough to admit I am disappointed.”
“Is that your attempt at humor, my lord?” She pleaded with herself to keep her hold on his arm relaxed, but her fingers tightened of their own accord.
“Perhaps, my lady,” he answered with a chuckle. “Truthfully, I cannot commit to the excursion tomorrow until I see to my mother. The journey to Oxburgh Hall was difficult for her.”
They knew so little of one another, and less about their respective lives. “Is she ailing?”
“Not in a physical sense.” They reached the landing and paused, neither willing or ready to bid the other goodnight. “My father passed away nearly a year ago, and my mother is not adjusting well.”
“I am sorry.” Chastity had thought the earl’s sullen nature was due to something trivial. “When I saw you by the moat…I thought, well—”
Bastian frowned, holding up his hand to halt her. “My moroseness this afternoon had naught to do with my father’s passing—or my mother.”
“The men, then?” The wall sconces on the upper floor had been dimmed for the evening, and a shadow shrouded Bastian’s face. She could not see his reaction, though she longed to… What? Comfort him? Be his friend? Know him beyond that of a mere acquaintance? “They called you Manny.”
“Manny was my father’s moniker. One he loved—and I loathe.” Bastian sighed, and she felt him pull away. He didn’t move physically, but it was as if leagues separated them just the same. “Old schoolmates. From Eton.”
“Did you know they would be in attendance?” she asked. “Most of the gathering is family and close friends.”
“I suspected. They were also associates of Montrose from University. It stands to reason that their bond from boyhood would continue to their adult lives. My time at Eton was not as memorable. I was called home long before finishing my schooling when my father fell ill.”
Chastity heard the words Bastian didn’t say: schoolmates, not friends. Montrose’s associates. Distance.
She, of all people, was familiar with putting distance between herself and others. Even her relationship with Pru had changed over the last several months. Chastity and her father had never been close, and Triston had only, in recent years, come to spend more time with his much younger sisters.
There had been hope—and perhaps a flicker still remained—that she and Edith would grow close. However, it was difficult to close the distance between herself and anyone with the note burning a hole in her pocket…and in her mind. She was keeping a secret from those who cared for her. She wanted to be bold in her honesty, yet she’d made a promise to Pru she wasn’t yet ready to betray. The note should have brought Chastity and her older sister close. All that had happened was that their differences had become vividly apparent, at least to Chastity.
But Bastian knew nothing of her, and he had no ties to her past—or her present.
The note wasn’t something she need discuss with him.
“If it gives you any relief, I have been acquainted with Roderick for many months, and have never met the group of lords. I do not think Roderick is overly familiar with any of them.”
“It doesn’t matter, truly,” Bastian said, his lighthearted air returning. He nodded, as if trying to convince himself and not Chastity. “They were part of a life I’ve long forgotten, a memory that occurred a lifetime ago and has no bearing on my present—or my future.”
They began walking again, Bastian’s stare trained on the corridor in front of them as Chastity’s hand slipped into her pocket to grasp the note.
A lifetime ago and no bearing on my present.
She longed to think the same about her mother’s letter. Unfortunately, the missive would dictate everything about her life to come: her name, her identity, and the many difficult decisions she’d likely be forced to make.
“I am here for my mother,” he continued. “Though I am several years younger than Montrose, his mother and mine were close in their youths.”
Chastity could not help but glance up at him. His jawline, though not as hard-set as Triston’s, was prominent in a pleasing way, even when he gritted his teeth—as he was currently doing, seemingly struggling not to share more.
“I see your brother is in attendance, but what of your mother and father?” he asked.
The change in topic was not ideal, though unavoidable. It was only natural that he’d ask after her parents and why a young woman would travel without them at such an important time of year.
“My mother, like Montrose’s, passed away many years ago—”
“My condolences,” he cut in.
“Thank you. It was a very long time ago.” Chastity released the note and removed her hand from her pocket. “If it were not for the portrait hanging in my bedchamber, I would not even know her likeness.” She paused for only a moment, not giving him time to respond. “My father, the Marquis of Downshire, should be arriving tomorrow—or perhaps the following day, in time for the wedding.”
“Chastity.” Prudence’s stern tone had her glancing away from Bastian to see that they now stood outside her chambers. “I thought you were with Edith and Triston in the salon.
“Who are you, sir?” Prudence was framed in the chamber doorway, the candlelight casting an otherworldly glow about her. “Chastity?”
Chastity released Bastian’s arm and moved toward her sister a
s if she’d been caught enjoying an indiscretion. Perhaps it was the guilt of actually enjoying an evening away from her sister that had her stepping away from Bastian. “Lady Prudence Neville, may I introduce the Earl of Mansfield. We met earlier by the moat, and Roderick invited him to play charades with us. His mother, Lady Mansfield, was bosom friends with Roderick’s mother.”
The words fell from her lips as if she had to explain her arrival with Bastian to Prudence.
Bastian bowed low. “A pleasure, Lady Prudence.”
“I was growing concerned,” Prudence said, ignoring Bastian. “It is late, and we must awaken early.”
Chastity hadn’t the nerve to look at Bastian. Did he note Prudence’s crass manners? “I am here now, Pru.”
“I will leave you both to a wonderful night.” Bastian inclined his head to each of them. “Sleep well, Lady Chastity. Lady Prudence.”
When Prudence once again ignored Bastian, Chastity said, “Goodnight, my lord.”
Bastian continued down the hallway, stopping several doors down and entering the room there.
The Earl of Mansfield had been given a chamber on the family floor, as well.
Interesting.
It was an immense privilege to be considered close enough for a mere friend to be given a chamber on the family’s private floor. Once again, Chastity wondered what it was about Bastian that had her brother suspicious and Roderick inviting him to private gatherings.
Chastity remained in the corridor long after Bastian had closed his door. The quiet of the late night belied the turning of the thoughts in her head. She could not put her mother’s letter from her mind. It had been written a lifetime ago, but while she’d begged herself to believe it had no bearing on her present or her future, Chastity knew that was not true.
If her mother had sought out the arms of a lover, the man could very well be her father.
“Do you plan to sleep in the corridor?” Pru asked from their room.
Chastity caught a glimpse of Pru as she disappeared into their dressing closet. Companions. Sisters. Best friends. Inseparable. Their hair was the same exact shade. Their brown eyes were only different because of the yellow flecks in Pru’s irises. No one but them would notice the half inch separating them in height.
The Season of Lady Chastity (The Undaunted Debutantes Book 4) Page 5
