How to Ruin Your Reputation in 10 Days (Ladies of Passion)

by Harmony Williams

  I didn’t know how to answer her, so I opted for a weak smile. “Thank you. I…appreciate your friendship.”

  Mary laid her hand over mine, resting on my lap. “I heard he refused to marry you.”

  “Julian? I knew he wasn’t free to.” I tried to keep the disappointment from my voice. After all, I had known. I’d wanted him anyway. I still did. Even if…

  If his fiancée had been anyone other than Alyssa, if he hadn’t made the promise to his brother shortly before he’d died, I might have held out a faint hope that we had a chance. Now, I had no hope. I didn’t know whether that made things better or worse.

  “Then he didn’t take advantage of you? You had an understanding?”

  The same question Sir Scandent had asked me, a question I had so vehemently denied. I bit my tongue to stifle a sigh. When I reined my emotions under control, I answered, “Yes, I suppose we did. He didn’t take advantage of me. I asked him…for what we had. We love each other.”

  That made it worse, somehow. Knowing that he loved me back and yet neither of us could do anything to change our future.

  “Then why won’t he marry you?”

  “He’s already engaged.”

  Mary opened her mouth, but I raised my hand to stall her outburst.

  “It’s complicated, but trust me. It’s impossible. I accept that.”

  I accepted it, but I didn’t like it.

  For once, she didn’t try to argue with me. I leaned my head back against her shoulder and took comfort in our companionable silence. From the glimpse I got of her face, she looked pained at being unable to offer a solution. That was what Mary did. She solved problems—often causing other ones in the process, but she never gave up. She always had a way forward. Now, she seemed at a loss.

  Pauline arrived in the doorway. “Mr. Beckwith is in the garden. He begs your presence.”

  I straightened. He was here? Why? I turned to my friend.

  She stood. “I suppose I’ve worn out my welcome if you have another visitor. I’ll see myself out. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

  As she left, Pauline turned to give her a faint smile. “You two made up? I’m glad.”

  I forced an echo to her smile. “Not exactly. Mary is…complicated. But we are still friends.” Bracing myself against the renewed discomfort in my ankle, I stood and crossed to her. I lowered my voice, in case others were nearby, listening. “You let Julian onto the grounds? Are you certain that’s wise?”

  “I thought you’d like to speak to him, miss. Lord Valentia will never know he’s here. He doesn’t go into the garden.”

  I fell into step with her as we turned toward the staircase. “No, but Mother does.”

  “Last I checked, Her Ladyship was in a deep discussion with my lord.”

  Most likely about me. I bit my lip. “Very well. Let’s hurry then before Julian is found out.”

  The garden was dark, but Pauline fetched a light to bring with us. The evening insects buzzed around it, making her mutter under her breath and swat at them. The moment I spotted Julian’s silhouette, I paused to gather myself. At the sight of him, my stomach turned a somersault. Why did life have to be so unfair?

  I swallowed hard and tried to hide how much I wished our future could be different. No matter what, I didn’t want to lose Julian as a friend. I needed him in my life in some capacity, no matter how small.

  Pauline held back as I crossed the last few feet to greet him. “Julian, hello! What are you doing here?”

  When he turned to me, his impatient expression turned wistful instead. Would he hug me? Kiss me? I wouldn’t turn away either one, even if it would hurt more come his wedding day.

  “I have that meeting with a potential business partner. You agreed to come with me.” He hesitated. “Did you change your mind?”

  “No,” I answered, perhaps a bit too fast. I didn’t want him to leave me behind. This was the first time my skills had ever been sought after in this manner. “Let me just collect Pauline and we’ll go.”

  When I turned, I found that my maid wasn’t standing as far out of earshot as I’d thought. She wore a dubious expression. “If I go with you, what will happen if your parents look for you? I won’t be here to misdirect them.” She pressed her lips together. “Is this dangerous? Perhaps you ought not to go, after all. You have had a trying week.”

  Not go? I didn’t give a whit for my reputation, but this was something that I was good at. This was something I wanted to do. I’d never considered leaving London and joining an expedition, but perhaps if my life was changing anyway, I should consider it. If I could prove my expertise tonight, it might be a stepping stone.

  “It isn’t dangerous in the least. I wouldn’t put Francine in jeopardy, you have my word. We’re meeting with the man at an eating house. We’ll be in public the entire time,” Julian said.

  That sounded innocent enough.

  Pauline hedged. “Without chaperone?”

  I was sick of that word. “Come with us, if you like. Stay, if you’d rather. My reputation is already in tatters. What good would a chaperone do?”

  “Then you think I’ll do more good if I stay behind to field off any questions.”

  She sounded just as indecisive as me. Now I understood why Mary seemed so frustrated with me at times. I made the decision for her. “Yes. Stay here. Tell my parents I’m abed with a headache. I’m going out with Julian.”

  He smiled and reached out to squeeze my hand. “Thank you, Francine. You won’t regret it.”

  …

  No wonder men kept women away from their business deals. If women knew that men gabbed more than gossips and scarcely did any work, they would lose all respect for the enterprise. I knew I certainly did.

  It didn’t help that I felt invisible. Almost from the moment Julian had introduced me to his business associate, a portly man with a ready smile named Mr. Hagen, the man had dismissed me. He spoke of politics with Julian, made crass jokes that made me blush, and plied the table with ale. I sipped watered-down wine instead, very sparingly. Over an hour passed without the man so much as glancing in my direction.

  I cleared my throat. No effect. The man finished his meal and patted down his lips with his handkerchief. I squared my shoulders. I hadn’t come here to be ignored. I coughed into my fist. “I thought we were here to discuss plants.”

  Mr. Hagen narrowed his eyes. “Yes, love. If you’re so eager to be gone, why don’t you give your boy a kiss and hand him over to me for a minute or two. Our business shouldn’t take long.”

  I stared at the stranger. Anger heated my chest, and for a moment I feared I might erupt like Mary. Did he just refuse to talk business in front of me because I was a woman? Maybe Papa was right—botany was no profession for a woman.

  I looked down, balling my fists as I gritted my teeth. No. Botany was one thing I would never give up. Certainly not over one little setback.

  Seated next to me, Julian slipped his hand beneath the table and laid it atop my fists. His touch soothed me. He gave me an encouraging look, then said to the man across from us, “I value her opinion. I’d like her to stay.”

  “Talking business with your woman?” Mr. Hagen scoffed. “I didn’t know you were a kept man, Mr. Beckwith.”

  I caught Julian’s hand before he retracted it. He bristled next to me.

  “I brought my friend because of her expertise.” He bit off his words. “If you aren’t going to treat her with respect, you can forget our business.”

  Julian stood, scraping back his chair. With disappointment wriggling in my belly, I did the same. All I wanted was to talk about plants. It appeared no man would give me that opportunity. No man but Julian, at least.

  Mr. Hagen made no effort to rise. He leaned back in his chair and tossed his napkin next to his plate. “Come, now. If you’re looking to impress the lady, you’re going a bit afield. It’s clear she has eyes only for you.”

  Had he expected me to flirt with him? He must be
near twice my age!

  The deplorable businessman continued, “You won’t find a more promising enterprise than mine. I can show you a sample of the plant, if you’d like.”

  I caught Julian’s sleeve before he turned away. The plant? I didn’t say a word out loud, but he knew how much I loved plants. If it was rare and he invested in the expedition, perhaps he’d let Julian keep the cutting. And by Julian, I meant me, of course.

  Although Julian’s posture was stiff, he turned back to the man. “The sample. Let’s see it, then.”

  Mr. Hagen dug into his pocket and produced a dried-up, wrinkled sprig of a plant. “This here’s a rare prickle, indeed. Grows only in the Far East. Chaps eat it up in the Americas and the colonies.”

  Julian reached out to touch the plant, but the man drew it back. “It’s delicate, see? Best only I should touch it.” Given the way he ham-handedly handled it, the little sprig didn’t have a long life ahead.

  Even in the dim light, I spotted the lie. I raised myself on tiptoe to pretend to kiss Julian’s cheek as I whispered, “Wild parsley. Common as clover. See the way the leaves curl?” My lips burned from the brush near his skin. I tried to ignore the desire that swept over me again.

  We’d had our night. That’s all we could have.

  Julian bared his teeth in a pale semblance of a smile. “Sounds promising.”

  No, it doesn’t!

  “I’ll have to talk to my wife about it.”

  Mr. Hagen pressed him to invest, saying that he had many other men lined up. For their sakes, I hoped the swindler was lying. Julian deftly ignored the pressure and steered me out the door of the eating house.

  When we reached the dark street outside, Julian paused. He tugged me toward the corner of the building, a bit father from the light of the streetlamp on the junction of the street two buildings down.

  “The way that man treated you was unforgivable. I wouldn’t have invested with him even if it had turned out to be a promising venture.”

  He leaned down and pressed his lips to my cheek. The contact was warm and altogether too brief. I swallowed and pressed my lips together before I asked him to do it again.

  “Thank you, Francine. Your help was invaluable.” He stroked my cheek. “Whatever man gets the honor of marrying you, I hope he knows what a treasure he has.”

  I glanced down, blinking hard before he noticed the sudden rush of tears that overcame me. “Perhaps we ought to get back.”

  Marriage wasn’t in my future, and even if it was, my husband wouldn’t be Julian.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Pauline hammered on the door to the library. “Miss Francine, come quick!”

  I lurched to my feet. My ankle throbbed, but it was nothing alongside the torpor in which I’d spent most of the morning. I unlocked and opened the library door.

  Pauline stood on the threshold with a smile overflowing her round cheeks. Her breast rose and fell violently with the force of her breaths. She must have run from downstairs. She grabbed my hand and tugged me after her. “Come along.”

  “Why?”

  At the top of the stairs, she turned to me, a twinkle in her eye. “A gentleman awaits you in the parlor.”

  I reeled. She caught me when I swayed. She urged me to descend the stairs with her. “Hurry,” she said.

  Within moments, we reached the bottom of the stairs. She pushed me into the threshold of the doorway, a bit too enthusiastically, if you asked me. I nearly fell, but I caught myself against the wall. My heart pounded.

  Upon seeing me, Sir Scandent stood, a smile capping his face. “Miss Annesley. I hadn’t expected to see you today.”

  “Scandent?” Belatedly, I realized that I’d called him by his nickname. At least he didn’t know enough about plants to realize the moniker wasn’t a flattering one.

  I stepped into the room—after all, now that I’d made my presence known, I couldn’t very well escape to the library—but stopped short. I frowned. “I beg your pardon. If you hadn’t expected to see me, why are you here?”

  Papa jostled me from behind as he entered the room. “Francine? I thought you said your leg was giving you grief.”

  “I did—it is.” My head spun.

  Papa had already pushed my presence aside in his mind. He greeted Scandent with open arms. “Trentham! Sorry to keep you waiting. Grimsby should have shown you right to my study. Come this way.”

  My stomach sank into my toes as I realized why Scandent had called today. He was going to ask Papa for my hand. He could have no other reason for calling when my family was in such disgrace. This was what my salvation looked like. The sick feeling in my stomach intensified. I feared I might lose my lunch all over the parlor. I shied back as Scandent strode forward to follow my father from the room. Our gazes locked as he came abreast of me.

  “I hope to speak to you again later.” His words were perfectly proper, but his leer and his tone told of promises I didn’t intend to honor.

  I ran. As fast and as far away as possible. My ankle screamed in pain, but I pushed on anyway. When the haze of emotion clouding my vision lifted, I found myself in front of the hothouse. I opened the doors and slipped inside.

  The humidity caressed me first, like a warm friend enclosing me in a hug. Tears clung to my eyelashes. I held them in. If I broke down now, I didn’t know if I could pull myself together again, and I had a party at Rose’s house to attend. I gulped for air as I crossed to the workbench.

  The damned moon orchid had wilted. Brown tinged the edges of its leaves. The flower had shriveled.

  I pressed my hands to my stomach. What was I doing with my life? I couldn’t even care for an orchid. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in Mother’s eyes if I had to ask her for a second clipping. My botanical achievements, those were the one thing we had always seen eye to eye on. How had I made such a mess of things?

  I curled both my hands around the pot. The impulse surged, almost overwhelming, to break it against the floor. If the flower wanted to act melodramatic, then so would I. But that wouldn’t solve anything. At the end of the day, it was still a flower. Its future, and mine, looked dim.

  …

  “Perhaps I should leave.”

  I’d expected Rose’s garden party to be bearable, considering that my dear friend was the hostess and the party took place in her garden. However, I’d underestimated the viciousness of my peers. It seemed the lot of them had attended to gawk and gossip about me. When I attempted to make polite conversation, they pretended not to hear. Except as a spectacle, I was utterly invisible.

  Rose seemed to walk around with a constant furrow between her eyebrows. She repeatedly rested her palm against her abdomen while making polite talk and no matter who spoke with her, she never offered them her genuine smile. She was worried.

  Still, she said, “Don’t. Stay another hour. It’s good for you to be seen in public.”

  Otherwise, it looked as though I was ashamed of my actions. The guests gathered no doubt believed that I should be. What business of theirs was it what I chose to do with my body, so long as nobody got hurt?

  I sounded like Mary. Worse, I feared she was right about the course that the scandal would take. With my disgrace, Mary became more popular with the matrons and debutantes. Those who would have treated her with wariness or open disapproval now greeted her with a smile. Did that mean that, once some other unfortunate woman stepped a foot off the proper path, my sins would be absolved? I liked my solitude. Not to mention, I didn’t regret it.

  My gaze gravitated toward Julian, who helped himself to the buffet table Rose had set up next to the back door to her townhouse. The Hartfell garden was even smaller than the square plot in the back of my townhouse; once Julian added enough to his plate, he didn’t have far to retreat before he found a seat on a stone bench along the far hedge. He met my gaze as he sat. Raising an eyebrow, he pointedly placed his plate next to him, as if reserving the seat for me.

  I turned to Rose. “I don’t want my u
npopularity to reflect poorly on you.”

  She smiled tightly, but it didn’t quite hide the shadow of fear in her eyes. “It won’t. Don’t say such ridiculous things. I invited you here because you have my full support. You’re my friend.”

  She was my friend. In her place, my loyalty wouldn’t have waivered for an instant, but Rose cared a lot more for appearances than me or Mary did. She might be adamant now over her friendship, but she had to think about more than herself and her husband now. She had a baby on the way, and as ludicrous as it was, Rose’s actions and popularity as the mother would reflect on her son or daughter. Was I more important to Rose than her child?

  If I thought any longer on the future, I’d give myself a headache. Instead of arguing, I capitulated. “I’ll stay for an hour, no longer.”

  “Good. Why don’t you tell the guests about the plants I keep? Heaven knows you know more about them than I do.” Rose tried to infuse her voice with joviality, but it fell flat.

  I doubted I sounded any better as I made an empty promise to do just that thing. As we parted ways for the moment, Julian caught my eye. Still alone in the corner, still awaiting my company. Gladly, I slipped away to move beside him. He removed the plate as I drew near.

  I planted myself on the bench next to him. As I leaned back and stretched my ankle out in front of me, he offered the plate. “Are you hungry?”

  I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

  He balanced it on his knee instead. “Me neither, to be honest. It gives the illusion that I’m occupied, however.”

  I studied those gathered. Twenty or thirty people, all crammed into this space, most standing and gossiping. They cast frequent glances in our direction. “You’re being given the cut direct, too?”

  I hadn’t anticipated that. Weren’t men held to a different standard than women?

  He shrugged. “It’s not as bad as with you, I imagine. I do thank my luck that Alyssa didn’t accompany me to London, however. I imagine my conduct would reflect poorly on her and cause her further grief.” His expression was neutral, but I noticed a tightness in his lips that bespoke of regret.