by Abigail Agar
Lady Stanton put down her spoon and slowly lifted her eyes to Gwyn. There was a deep and enduring determination in the eyes of the woman. “Gwyneth, there is simply nothing to speak further on. We spoke, and I heard all I needed to hear.”
“I said all of a sentence before you had me already off for the lynching. This is Jack we are talking of, and you know as well as I that if he had intended to show anyone that journal he would have done it himself a long time ago. This is all some foolish nonsense of Henry’s that he’s cooked up for whatever delusional reason his mind has laid out for him,” Gwyn said passionately as she clenched her fist in her lap.
Lady Stanton cleared her throat. “The very fact that you set Jack apart in this conversation is the whole reason that I have judged you so poorly, Gwyn. If you think that Henry can pull the wool over Jack’s eyes so easily, then that does not put Jack in the best light. Knowing Jack is precisely why I judge him just as harshly as I do you.”
“I do not believe what I am hearing,” Gwyn said quietly. “Judge me as harshly as you please, Jack too for that matter, but I knew nothing of that journal until Sergeant Chavers showed it to me.”
Lady Stanton arched her eyebrow in an imperious way that made Gwyn a bit envious. “And did you not harbour any affection for the man? Do you think it did not colour your interactions with him or your words to others?”
“I do not know what you are talking about,” Gwyn said defiantly. “I was only a friend to Jack.”
Her mother clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “Ladies and gentlemen are not friends unless they are related. Otherwise, it is usually a cover for more scandalous activities. We are too desperate to broker a scandal. The Shelton family as well seems to have reached the end of what they are willing to weather. It is high time that we put an end to this in the only way I know how.”
Gwyn’s mind immediately leaped to Jack at the mention of the Shelton family. “What are you talking about? Are you going to force Jack and me to marry?”
“Do you think I would marry a daughter of mine to someone who thought it proper to write such scandalous things about you? Yes, Gwyneth, I read enough of it to make me feel scandalized. No, we need to mend our relationship with the Shelton household, and thankfully, their oldest son has shown himself to be an honourable man,” Lady Stanton said as one of the kitchen help came by to enquire if Lady Stanton was done with her soup. She waved the young woman off. “I am still very much enjoying my soup. Thank you, Rachel.” The kitchen girl dipped her head and quickly exited the dining hall.
Gwyn frowned deeply. “Henry? You are talking about Henry? He is the one that made this a scandal to begin with.”
“He righted a wrong,” Lady Stanton said as if she was correcting Gwyn. “He did you a favour by showing you what sort of things his brother wrote about you. It is not proper and not right. It is better that you know these things about Captain Shelton so that you can finally turn your head away from him.”
The world seemed to have gone haywire. Gwyn’s mother had never had a soft spot for Henry, yet here she was showering the man with praise. Gwyn shook her head in shock. “I did not read the journal per say, but I cannot imagine that Jack wrote anything so horrible.”
“As much as I wish to save you the grief of it, I feel you should get the journal and read it before we return it to the Shelton family. It is in the desk drawer in my sitting room,” Lady Stanton said with a worried expression. “I do wish that you would just accept my word for it, but I know that you will not.”
Gwyn already felt a ball of dread in her stomach as she stood up with her chin in the air. She might be worried, but Gwyn had no desire to let her mother know that the woman’s words had rattled her. “It is not a matter of disbelief mother. I just have to see things for myself.”
Lady Stanton looked down at her soup again. “So be it then,” the woman said softly.
***
The journal was indeed in the top drawer of her mother’s desk. Gwyn eyed the leather bound book with a feeling of trepidation. She frowned at the book, not that the book minded. Gwyn took a deep breath and tucked it under her arm. She would read it in the privacy of her own room.
Gwyn had hoped that she would not meet anyone on the way to her room, but in the foyer, she encountered a maid dusting. She gave the woman a smile which the maid returned. “Good afternoon, Miss,” the maid said with a quick informal curtsey.
“And to you, Fanny,” Gwyn said warmly. The woman had worked for the family for over a decade. “Are you feeling better?”
Fanny nodded. “Oh yes, Miss. I feel right as rain. It’s so kind of you to ask after me.”
“Just do not work too hard, and also do not tell my mother that I said that,” Gwyn said with a wink.
Fanny laughed and shook her head at Gwyn before she went back to her dusting. Gwyn hurried up the stairs. The smile from the exchange with Fanny stayed on Gwyn’s face until she was alone in her room.
Gwyn looked around and scooted her chair from the desk to go under the doorknob so that no one could disturb her. It was something she had done as a child when she was in one of her stormy moods, as her mother called them. Gwyn sank down into the downy mattress of her bed and released the leather strap from the buckle.
The words on the pages were at times blissful and at times vile. Gwyn felt her heart soar and then crash. There were notes about her before Jack left, along with other notes that were scribbled around the edges about other women. Gwyn’s heart broke with each betrayal the book revealed.
Gwyn’s eyes caught on the entry dated for the day that Gwyn had returned from India with her aunt. It looked as if Jack had written and then erased words from the page in his haste to write down his thoughts. “I know that Gwyn spotted me, but I thought perhaps her foolish enough to let herself be led to the conclusion that it was Henry and not I that she saw. Certainly, my parents were easily enough led to that conclusion. However, she would not even see me. I fear that she has fled for good.” Gwyn read the words and fumed.
That was why he had come here that evening then. Gwyn fought the urge to fling the book. The man had dared to feign innocence and even kept up the act after he had returned. That was why Henry had seemed at times to know the truth. He had been Jack’s pawn before.
The entries from Jack’s time at war were scattered over the four-year span that the man was gone. The entries after Jack’s return home, however, were regular and rambling. Gwyn forced herself to read through the entries even if she dreaded what they might say.
Gwyn whispered as she read, “Her eyes are as I remember, but she stares at him as if he has answers for her. She never could find answers of her own …” Gwyn frowned. Of anything Jack could attack, her mind and her voice hurt the most. Jack had always remarked that her quick mind and imagination were things he had adored about her. Clearly by his remarks in the journal, Jack had found plenty of faults with Gwyn after his return to England.
“I cannot read any more,” Gwyn said aloud and put the book on the bed. She pushed it away with her hand and eyed the book as if it had betrayed her. Certainly, from her mother’s words, she had expected there to be harsh criticisms, but Gwyn had not expected the inner workings of Jack’s mind to be so twisted. The man had talked about how amusing Gwyn’s admission of love had been. He had even planned it seemed to use the admission against her.
Why Jack had not made good on his plan was not obvious, but his harsh words about Henry made Gwyn shake her head. Jack had always been critical of Henry, but she had no idea how much Jack resented his older brother. Whether it was the years of war or the fact that Henry was entitled to the titles and lands that the family possessed, Gwyn could not say. The only thing she could say for certain was that the man who wrote this was not the Jack she had thought she knew.
Gwyn felt foolish that she had defended Jack on so many occasions. So many people had tried to tell her not to blindly defend the man, yet Gwyn had persevered in doing so because she thought that she knew the r
eal man that they all did not see. “What a laughing stock I turned out to be,” Gwyn muttered. She sent a glare the book’s way. “He did not even have the decency to tell me the truth about that night that I saw him. He must have thought me a great idiot for still feeling affection for him,” Gwyn grumbled to the room. “I thought him innocent, but after reading his thoughts, I find him merely ego-heavy and foolish to think that I would just run off to India then return and fall straight into his arms. Oh, I long to throw this book into his face and let him know that I will not stand for being lied to anymore.”
As Gwyn’s fist balled up in her knitted blanket, she felt herself deflate. “What good would that do? Other than giving me the satisfaction of the look on his face, of course,” Gwyn said as she pursed her lips in thought. The imagery kept her amused until there was a gentle knock at the door. “Yes?” Gwyn called.
“Miss, I was wondering if everything was well. I thought I heard you arguing with someone,” Adrienne’s nervous voice called from the hallway.
Gwyn giggled despite herself. “No,” Gwyn called as she headed towards the door. She thought better of leaving the book in the open and scooped it up, quickly depositing it in the drawer of her own desk before moving the chair from under the door. She scooted the chair aside and opened the door to reveal Adrienne standing in the hall with her hands cupped together anxiously. The young woman peered around Gwyn as if to make sure the room was empty.
“I’m most sorry to intrude, Miss,” Adrienne said bashfully. “I thought I heard you talking to someone in anger, and I was worried for you. I could think of no one that you would be fussing within your room other than your mother, and she is in her own room preparing for an outing.”
Gwyn laughed lightly. She eyed Adrienne shrewdly. “So, you thought I might have a scandalous visitor?” Adrienne quickly shook her head, but Gwyn warded off the young chambermaid’s response by saying, “It is quite okay. I probably would have thought the same thing. I guess emotions just got the better of me. Sometimes I talk to myself when I get flustered. It helps to calm me down.” Gwyn smiled at the maid and added, “My father often does the same thing, or did before he was ill. Now I never know if he is talking to himself or to someone I don’t see.”
Adrienne frowned. “I’m ever so sorry about the Lord’s health. He seems a very dear man even though I haven’t known him long.”
“That is very sweet of you,” Gwyn said gently. Adrienne started to say something, but Gwyn interrupted her by asking, “Did you say that my mother was preparing for an outing?”
Adrienne nodded eagerly and said, “Why yes. Her chambermaid said Lady Stanton was headed to Shelton Hall this evening. Is that not correct?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Gwyn said absentmindedly. “My mother often keeps her own counsel. Thank you, Adrienne.” The chambermaid gave Gwyn a curious look before she curtseyed and went off down the hallway. Gwyn watched the young woman until she disappeared down the stairs.
As soon as Adrienne was gone, Gwyn turned towards her mother’s door. Her quiet knock was met with her mother’s voice crisply saying, “Enter.” Inside the room, Gwyn spotted her mother in one of her lovely green silk dresses. The woman rarely wore the green ones, but when she did, it was usually for occasions of the utmost importance. Lady Stanton looked over at Gwyn expectantly. “Ah, there you are,” she observed. “I assume you had your fill of the journal and have come to talk to me about it.”
“I have quite read enough, yes, but I have no desire to discuss it in any form,” Gwyn said adamantly. Her mother gave Gwyn a sympathetic look as if she could understand. Gwyn sighed and ventured, “You are going to Shelton Hall this evening?”
Lady Stanton did not seem surprised that Gwyn had found out that information, despite not having told her directly. The woman nodded. “Yes, I am having dinner with them at the request of the Lady of the house. Did you wish to go as well?” There was almost a gleam of hope in her mother’s eyes that set Gwyn’s suspicious nature on edge.
“No,” Gwyn said flatly. “I was merely surprised when I heard the news. I thought that we would be avoiding the Shelton family.”
Lady Stanton scoffed, “You speak as if we have such luxurious options.”
“And you speak as if it is my fault,” Gwyn said before she bit her tongue. “I am sorry, Mother. I am still on edge from reading that vile book.”
Lady Stanton nodded and said, “Having read some of the book myself, I can understand your nerves being rattled. So, I will disregard your tone.” Gwyn’s mother leaned over and eyed her reflection for a moment before she spoke again. “We do not have many options at our disposal. You are our only daughter, let alone our only child, Gwyneth. You know how damaging anything can be to the reputation of a lady. Even,” Lady Stanton said as Gwyn opened her mouth to protest, “if the blame in this circumstance does not lie with you; the reputation of a lady of society can be a fragile thing, Gwyneth.”
Gwyn hung her head. “I know. I wish there were some way that I could fix this.”
“It would be easier done if you were more known in society circles. You were a child and had not really been out in society much when you left for India. All the years there you were out of society, and you barely got your foot back in the door before this scandal came about. People have nothing to refer you to, Gwyneth,” Lady Stanton said as she turned in her seat. She put her arm delicately on the back of her wooden chair as she looked at Gwyneth with compassion. “Society can be a harsh place, as I know you have already gleaned. We simply do not have that many options, and our family desperately needs help.”
Gwyn frowned. “The Shelton family surely cannot be that willing to help us. Of all the things they do not need, a scandal is at the top of the list.”
“True, but they also feel responsible for this, and they are our friends, despite what has transpired between you and Captain Shelton,” Lady Stanton said with a smile. “The Duke and Duchess, it really is odd to call them that, are preparing to retire. Lydia is most insistent that the Duke step down and let Henry take on his role. I think this latest turn of events has proven to them that Henry is not such a bad choice after all.”
The thought of Henry as Duke really still did not sit well with Gwyn, but after she had read Jack’s journal, she no longer could say that Jack was any better a choice. Gwyn nodded. “I do hope the family can shake off all the scandal that has been visited on them,” Gwyn said sincerely. “I have known them, even if not as the Duke and Duchess, for so long I feel like they are part of my family too.”
“And they may very well be part of your family in the near future,” Lady Stanton said with a small smile.
Gwyn gave her mother a curious look. “I am not sure that I follow, Mother,” she said quietly.
“Well, Henry has been rather picky with brides, but it is quite obvious that he feels a great deal of, at the very least, compassion for you,” Lady Stanton said. “Surely being a Duchess could prove beneficial to you, rather than just the bride of a merchant.”
The idea of being a Duchess was one that Gwyn had entertained, but the brother holding the title was different then. Gwyn said softly, “Whatever you think is best, Mother. I trust you and your wisdom to get me through this. Especially since I can no longer trust my own.”
“Thank you, Gwyneth,” Lady Stanton said with considerable surprise. She gave Gwyn a pleased smile. “You surprise me every day. I had started to worry that perhaps your time in India would stunt you in some way, but you really are turning into quite the lady.”
Gwyn wished her mother’s words pleased her more. Today had been a trying day, to say the least, and Gwyn only managed a small smile at her mother’s words. The mention of India made her heart long for the simpler times she had experienced in the country. Being Duchess would make Gwyn’s life considerably more complicated with obligations at most every turn. Gwyn was not certain that she wanted that life, but she would do what her mother wanted. She felt as if she owed the woman something for al
l this commotion, even if Gwyn had been merely a victim of it herself.
Lady Stanton cleared her throat. “You do not have to attend dinner tonight, but I would like you to attend luncheon with me tomorrow. Lydia is eager to see if you and Henry are open to the idea of the marriage.”
