“No!” several people gasped.
Eliza nodded sadly. “Only a few nights ago, Mr. Davies and I returned to London, and at our very first event, Mr. Vale came to me. He begged me to be with him, though I was now a married woman. His attentions were just as wild and untamed as the man himself is, and I was appalled that he should suggest any such thing. Were it not for my husband’s impeccable timing and physical strength, he might have overpowered me.”
Prue gaped at her, practically gawking at this outrageous lie, at the damage she was inflicting on Camden’s character and reputation, to say nothing of the impact it could have on Prue herself.
Which was undoubtedly Eliza’s objective.
She didn’t care about Camden one way or the other.
It was Prue she wanted to ruin.
Eliza sniffed loudly, fanning herself with a small fan one of her admirers had given her. “I just felt that it was my duty to share my experience so that Mr. Vale would never be able to inflict the same harm on someone else, or far worse. And my poor cousin…” She hitched an audible breath and reached a hand out towards Prue, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “Oh, my sweet cousin, who might already be ruined and too ashamed to admit that he has ensnared her. Perhaps she doesn’t know, and if I had only told her before I was wed…”
“Oh, for the love of…” Elinor muttered, trailing off into an expletive that would have made Charlotte blush.
Eliza hiccupped loudly and came over to Prue, who could not move, though Amelia and Elinor sidled out of the way.
“Oh, Prudence,” Eliza wailed, draping herself on Prue with another cry, her body shuddering against Prue’s unmoving one.
Prue swallowed hard, not seeing the crowd any longer, not seeing anything but the pond ahead, the blue above, the green beneath. She faintly heard Elinor muttering something about beating Eliza with a stick, but the words were not clear.
Then, all sounds disappeared as Eliza breathed menacingly, “Baa-aa-aa, little lamb. Baa-aa-aa…” She chuckled and pulled back, smirking and giving Prue a wink. “We should invite you for dinner soon, Davies and I. Perhaps not your suitor, as he has a shocking reputation and all.” She grinned, and then pushed on past Prue, a lace handkerchief dabbing at her eyes as she moved away from the crowd. Amelia restrained a suddenly lunging Elinor, but Prue could only watch her cousin amble away.
One by one, that crowd dispersed, some coming past Prue, eyeing her with concern, others averting their eyes and their path until only the three of them remained there.
Prue began to shake then, her body trembling with embarrassment and shame, fury and indignation. She felt weak, almost slumberous, and the world seemed to spin in all of the wrong ways.
“We need to get her back to Georgie’s,” Elinor said brusquely, grabbing one of Prue’s arms. “Is it too far to walk?”
“I think so,” Amelia replied as she came to Prue’s other side. “She’ll never make it that far. Oh! It’s Mr. Andrews in a phaeton!”
“And Mr. Morton and Lieutenant Henshaw!” Elinor gasped, hurrying Prue along. “They can hail us a hack, we won’t all fit in Mr. Andrews’ phaeton. Mr. Morton! Lieutenant Henshaw!”
Prue lost track of the conversations as she focused on regaining control of her breathing. She would never recover the shame of panicking into an attack out here in the open of London. She could manage, she could breathe, she could find her way. There was nothing to panic about, only a situation to handle.
Cam would help her. Cam would make it right.
Cam would…
Cam would…
Oh, lord, what would Cam say?
“She said what?”
Camden shot out of his chair, swearing colorfully, shoving his hands behind his head.
“Steady on,” Andrews murmured, looking only mildly surprised.
Camden glanced at Amelia, who appeared a little impressed. “Apologies, Miss Perry.”
She shook her head, smiling a little. “I have two brothers, Mr. Vale. I do believe I’ve heard most things.”
“I doubt that,” Camden and Andrews said at the same time, sharing a rueful look.
Camden cleared his throat. “You’re sure, Miss Perry? About what you heard Mrs. Davies say?”
She nodded. “Quite sure. And Miss Asheley heard it as well, you can verify the story with her.”
“Elinor never lies,” Camden muttered. “Lord, this family…” He ground his eyes with the heels of his hands. “How was Prue?”
“Mortified,” Amelia said bluntly. “The crowd was so taken in with Mrs. Davies’ claims, and Prue just stood there, shaking like a leaf, changing from pale to flushed and back again.”
Camden groaned. “She didn’t believe it, did she?”
Amelia said nothing.
He turned to look at her warily. “Amelia…”
Apology was written all over her face. “I don’t know, Mr. Vale. She was saying things to herself while Mr. Morton and Lieutenant Henshaw helped her into a hack. Something like ‘Cam wouldn’t… Cam couldn’t…’ or the like. I begged Mr. Andrews to bring me to you, so I don’t…” She looked up at Andrews for help.
He shook his head at her. “Hard to say, Vale. She was very distressed, to be sure.”
Camden stared at them both, horror setting in. “I’ve got to go to her. I’ve got to go now.”
Andrews nodded, stepping back. “Take the phaeton, Vale. We’ll send a missive to Miss Perry’s family to have her fetched home. Your housekeeper will stay with her until then, and I will remain on your premises until you return.”
Camden nodded absently, only half hearing. “Thank you, Andrews.” He raced out the door and down to the waiting phaeton, taking the reins from the footman. He snapped the reins sharply before the footman could mount his seat, calling out to the horses, who took off with a jolt that nearly unseated him. Now might not have been the best time to admit to Andrews that he hadn’t driven a phaeton in ten years or more, and it certainly wouldn’t do to destroy the phaeton when it had just been so generously loaned to him.
He pushed all that into the back of his mind. Prue was the important one here. How could Eliza have embarrassed her so publicly like that? There was speculation of an engagement between Camden and Prue, which was undoubtedly what had set Eliza off, but to bend this far in her attempts to foil it…
There was a very particular circle of hell for people like her, and he would be only too glad to push her into it.
Prue had to believe him. She had to. She’d accepted everything about him up to this point, hadn’t she? None of the other rumors had blown her off course, so he could only presume that…
But she hadn’t heard all the rumors. She wouldn’t have, not with her connections and acquaintances. Those rumors were for a very particular circle, but they remained, nonetheless.
Unless someone had told her those.
None of them were true, but he’d spent so long laughing off his reputation, pretending it had no effect on him and his life that rumors about him tended to be counted as fact. He’d told Prue himself that the bad she would hear about him was mostly true, never imagining that she’d hear anything truly wicked.
This rumor would stick for some time. The story would change and morph with every subsequent retelling unless someone could prove that Eliza was wrong.
He would deal with that later.
Right now, he needed to see Prue. To hold her. To tell her…
The Sterling’s townhouse was before him, and he pulled the horses to a stop, throwing the reins to the side and racing up the stairs.
The butler let him in, and Camden heard him instruct a footman to tend to the phaeton, but he didn’t bother checking on that.
Tony saw him first and changed direction to meet him.
“Where?” Camden panted, grabbing at his shoulders.
Tony pointed to a far parlor, and Camden thumped his shoulder in gratitude, moving as fast as he could to the room where his fate would await him.
&nbs
p; The afternoon light streamed through one of the windows in the room, bathing Prue in beams of sunlight that ought to have brightened her to an angelic degree. But sitting as she was, slumped in a chair, elbows on her knees, hands clasped, head bowed…
She looked as though she had been defeated in battle.
He entered the room slowly, not wanting to startle her. She didn’t move at his approach, but he saw her eyes lift enough to see his boots as he neared her.
“Prue?” he said gently, stopping before her.
She didn’t respond, did not lift her head, made no indication that he was here.
A cold fear struck Camden’s chest. She believed Eliza. Her insecurities about herself and his nature had given her enough doubt that she believed the malicious rumors.
He sunk down to his knees before her until he could see her eyes. She focused on him, her breathing slow and steady, her face pale, but devoid of expression.
“Prue…” he began roughly, reaching out a hand to cover her clasped fingers. “I swear on my life, I never had anything to do with your cousin or any other woman since I’ve met you. I never touched her. I never said a word to her beyond politeness, and I barely managed that. I never made any advances, untoward or otherwise. My reputation is not entirely unfounded, I told you that, but…” He tightened his hold on her hands. “I promise you, Prue. I promise I would never…” His voice faded with emotion, and he shook his head, helpless under the power of her eyes. “I love you more than life, and I would never betray you.”
“I know.”
Her soft words were nearly lost on him, though they were the only people in this room. Her lips had barely moved when she spoke them.
But he couldn’t have heard her correctly.
He blinked at her. “You… you what?”
Prue inhaled softly. “I know. I know you didn’t do this. I know you wouldn’t do this. I know, Cam.” She swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m only sorry you had to be involved at all. I can’t believe she would slander you this way.”
Camden stared at her in disbelief, his heart beating in an unsteady, hesitant rhythm. He cleared his throat. “Your cousin is spreading malicious rumors designed to hurt you in a very particular way, and you are worried about me?”
Her lower lip trembled, and she nodded. “Yes.” She exhaled a rough sob. “I’m so sorry, Camden. I don’t know what to say.”
Camden couldn’t believe his ears and exhaled a feeble almost-chuckle. He rose a little and took Prue’s dear face in his hands, tilting her head up to meet his gaze fully. He shook his head in wonder, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.
This woman… This remarkable, breathtaking, incomparable woman not only believed him in the face of adversity but thought more of him than she did herself.
She loved him far more than he deserved, and he felt weak in the face of it.
He did not deserve her. But he was not about to let that stop him.
“Prudence Westfall,” he said roughly, emotion catching at his voice. “I didn’t think I could love you more than I already did, but… will you marry me?”
Prue blinked at him once, twice, and then it dawned on her. “What?” she breathed.
He smiled and touched his brow to hers, nudging her nose with his. “I love you,” he whispered. “And I will love you every day for the rest of our lives, and beyond, if I can find a way to arrange it. With every breath, I will love you, cherish you, save you, if it comes to it, and breathe in and out with you until every trace of fear is gone.” He grazed his lips across hers, catching her faint gasp. “I promise you, love, I will live my entire life for love of you.”
One of her shaking hands came to rest on his cheek, gently rubbing against the stubble. “Cam…”
He captured her mouth in a kiss, pouring every promise and every wish into the molding of their lips, every passionate thought, every fanciful whim, every daydream, night dream, and things yet to dream, all melding together as he kissed her.
“I love you,” Prue whispered, her lower lip catching at his with the words. She shook her head against him. “I love you.”
Camden smiled and gave her one more feather-light kiss. “Then marry me, my adorable, feisty, remarkable tangle-tongue. Marry me and save me from a life without you.”
Prue pulled back a little, smiling dreamily at him, stroking his cheek. “I’ll save you, my love. All my life, I’ll save you.”
He turned his face to kiss the palm of her hand twice, then leaned into her hold. “Promise?”
She smiled, nodding. “Promise,” she vowed as she leaned in to kiss him again.
Epilogue
I will never understand those who choose to spread poison to further their own agenda and use slander as a way to improve their opinion of themselves. To parade their self-importance for the world and trample whomever they can in their path. Does the arrogance of such individuals know no bounds? Does their malicious behavior fill some innate need to strike out and be heard? How does such a person look at himself or herself with any sense of dignity? When their honor and integrity lies in tatters on the ground beneath their trampling feet, will they even feel the gaping wounds that their words and actions will enact on their own person? Those who seek to hurt and degrade others rather than lift and support will find that the darkness they create will be their own end reward.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 7 June 1818
“A bit on the nose, isn’t it, Izzy?”
“You didn’t complain when you reviewed it.”
“And I’m not complaining now, but really, right in the issue after we heard the full nature of Lizard Liza’s filth?”
Izzy turned in her chair to look at Charlotte, who had come early for the Spinster gathering that day. “You know I had to do it then. I would have lost my nerve if we had waited.”
Charlotte seemed to consider that, then nodded with a heavy sigh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. You’re far too nice, Isabella.”
Izzy grumped and turned back to her writing. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Charlotte suddenly moaned with great dramatics. “I’m so bored. When is Prue coming back?”
“Next week,” Izzy told her for what had to be the seventh time. “They left right after the wedding for Hertfordshire. That new estate needed to be examined.”
“I doubt very much it’s the estate they are going to be examining,” Charlotte chortled.
Izzy coughed in surprise, her face turning as red as Prue’s ever had as she whirled to face her. “Charlotte Wright!”
“What did they do with Mrs. Westfall?” her friend went on as though she had not said anything shocking, sitting forward on the sofa. “I know she’s not in London anymore, which is a blessed relief.”
Izzy fanned her still-flaming cheeks. “Camden bought her a dower house as a wedding present. It’s near her sister’s place in Somerset.”
“Aww,” Charlotte moaned, pouting for effect. “We’ll likely not have the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Westfall looking like a caged gorilla at our London balls anymore.”
Izzy shook her head and again returned to her writing. There was nothing to be done about Charlotte. She would know; she had tried. Charlotte said precisely what she thought, exactly how she felt, and did not apologize for it.
What freedom there must have been in being so true to one’s self without consideration to anybody else. Izzy could never have done something like that. She was far too eager to please, to be liked, to be nice, as Charlotte had said, and she would feel so guilty that she would wind up apologizing for everything.
Then again, it was undoubtedly a very good thing that there were not more versions of Charlotte around.
One was quite enough.
“Good heavens, I love that line, Izzy,” Charlotte gushed proudly. “‘Those who seek to hurt and degrade others rather than lift and support will find that the darkness they create will be their own end reward.’” She applauded and moved to the window. “Such viciousness.
Remind me not to make you angry.”
Izzy looked at Charlotte’s back with a sardonic look. “It is only because it’s anonymous that I can say such things. You know I could never do it face to face.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Then write a speech, and I’ll say it for you. Ooh, I wish I could have seen Eliza’s face when she read it. She had to know we meant her.”
“Probably,” Izzy allowed, dipping her pen in ink again. “But it could have worked for Mrs. Westfall, as well.”
“Yes, but she cannot read, so she would never know.”
Izzy chuckled and put a hand to her face. “Oh, Charlotte.”
“What happened to the lizard anyway?” Charlotte asked, changing topics yet again. “I haven’t seen her at the last three gatherings.”
“That’s because she’s at Tinley for the foreseeable future,” a familiar voice said from the door.
Izzy and Charlotte turned in surprise to see Prue standing there, grinning at them all, a lovely sapphire ring glinting on one hand.
“Prue!” they squealed in chorus, dashing over to her and hugging her close.
She laughed and grinned so easily, it was as if she were a different person. “This is a fine greeting. Had I known I would be so missed, I should have stayed away longer.”
“Where’s Camden?” Izzy asked, looking past her.
“Never mind the man,” Charlotte scoffed with a wave of her hand. “What about the lizard?”
Prue looked a little pained, and her cheeks flushed, but she still smiled. “Mariah Turner took a dislike to w-what Eliza was saying about Cam and me, and Mariah is very protective. She paid Eliza a visit, and…” She trailed off, her smile turning rueful. “Well, Mariah can be very persuasive. Eliza and Davies will spend the rest of the Season at Tinley. Recovering.”
Charlotte laughed loudly, clapping her hands. “And the rumors?”
The Spinster and I (The Spinster Chronicles, Book 2) Page 28
