The Disgraced Bride: The Spinsters Guild (Book 2)

by Pearson, Rose

  “Might I ask, Miss Jackson, why you are present here alone with a gentleman such as this?” she asked, keeping her voice gentle yet firm. “And where is your chaperone?”

  “She—she is waiting outside in the carriage,” Miss Jackson stammered, her whole body now trembling with fright. “My father has given me a companion as my mother is dead and my brother already married.”

  Emma shrugged. “Then why is she not within?” She watched the girl carefully, seeing how she looked up desperately towards Lord Rochester, clearly waiting for him to make some kind of explanation.

  And then it dawned on her. Companions could, at times, be convinced to forgo their duties in some way if the right amount of money was paid. It was a paid position after all, and quite understandable that one might seek a little more income so long as nothing untoward happened to their charge. It would be rare for a companion to do such a thing but not entirely unheard of. It seemed that, in this case, this was precisely what had occurred.

  Emma’s anger burned furiously.

  “I was only to stop inside for a few minutes,” Miss Jackson whispered, her hands now pressed to her mouth as she shook her head wordlessly, her eyes brimming with tears. Her hands fell to her sides, her head falling forward as tears ran down her cheeks. “What have I done?”

  “Thankfully, nothing as yet,” Emma replied, grimly. “You have been discovered, yes, but that is only because I wished to ensure that you knew precisely what it is you are doing, Miss Jackson.” Her brows hovered low over her eyes as she saw Miss Jackson look back at her. “You are about to ruin yourself for good, Miss Jackson. I can guarantee you that nothing Lord Rochester says to you about his affections and the like have any degree of truth to them.” She threw a look towards Lord Rochester and saw just how dark his expression had become. “And you are about to give your reputation over to a gentleman who cares nothing for it and will care for you for however long pleases him. He will take from you without hesitation, Miss Jackson, but care nothing for the consequences. I can assure you of that.”

  Miss Jackson sniffed furiously and turned her gaze to Lord Rochester, a desperation in her eyes that, despite the circumstances, had Emma feeling terribly sorry for her. Lord Rochester was handsome, and even she herself knew that his words could be dripping with honey, appearing so honest and beguiling, when his heart itself was not true.

  “Is that true, Lord Rochester?” Miss Jackson asked, her voice quavering. “Do you not care for me as you have said?”

  Emma closed her eyes for a moment, sorry that the creature before her had been so taken in.

  “I have told you the truth, Miss Jackson!” Lord Rochester protested at once, his eyes flaring wide. “You know very well that I care for you. Why else have I shown you such attentions?”

  Emma restrained her snort of disbelief and, instead, arched an eyebrow. “Then, if it is as you say, Lord Rochester, I present to you a choice.”

  Lord Rochester’s wide-eyed look of honesty faded to a simmering anger all over again, leaving Emma herself feeling rather tense and unsettled in his presence, but she still did not back down.

  “A choice, Miss Bavidge?” Lord Rochester replied, his lip curling somewhat. “What choice might that be?”

  “A simple one,” Emma replied with a small shrug. “If you care for Miss Jackson here, as you say, then you will do the honorable thing and, this very moment, offer your hand in marriage.” She looked calmly back at Lord Rochester, whose cheeks were now flaring red. “Since I have discovered you both in a rather delicate situation, it makes perfect sense for me to ask you this, does it not?” Having no response from Lord Rochester, she turned back to Miss Jackson, who was staring up desperately at Lord Rochester, clearly frantic for him to respond to her. “However, the opportunity is also presented for you to leave Miss Jackson’s side and never return to her again, since I am willing to remain silent about what I have discovered.” Tipping her head just a little, she looked back at Lord Rochester, who was grimacing as though in pain. “That is your choice, Lord Rochester. Either this very moment, offer your hand to Miss Jackson, or, if it is your preference, leave her side and never return to it again, knowing that this will bring with it my silence. It is up to you, Lord Rochester.”

  Emma’s heart squeezed painfully at the look of hope in Miss Jackson’s eyes. She watched the girl carefully, seeing how her face fell as Lord Rochester muttered something under his breath and, without hesitation, turned around to walk from the bookshop.

  “This is not the end of our conversation, Miss Bavidge,” Lord Rochester hissed, throwing a narrow-eyed glare towards her from over his shoulder. “I have a good deal more to say to you.”

  “But I am not inclined to hear it,” Emma retorted, tossing her head and turning bodily away from him. “Good day, Lord Rochester.”

  The sound of the bell ringing as the door was pulled open seemed to be the last thing that Miss Jackson could cope with. She let out a shuddering breath and then pressed her hands to her eyes, clearly struggling to hold back the tears. Emma put one hand gently on the young lady’s arm, knowing just how much regret the girl must be feeling.

  “I am sorry, Miss Jackson,” she said by way of apologizing for the difficulty the girl was going through, “but I do believe that it is for the best that you are fully aware of Lord Rochester and his malignant intentions.” She pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to the girl, who took it at once, pressing it to her eyes. “Not all gentlemen are as he, Miss Jackson, although there is a good deal of them who would do all they could to take advantage in the same way that he has done. You must be on your guard.”

  A stifled sob came from the young lady, leaving Emma floundering, not quite certain what she should say or do to comfort Miss Jackson. Looking all about her, she was relieved to see Lady Smithton coming towards her, a look of concern etching itself into her features.

  “Ah, Lady Smithton,” Emma said, with relief. “Might you come and speak to Miss Jackson here? Are you acquainted with her?”

  “I am not,” Lady Smithton replied with a warm smile in Miss Jackson’s direction, for she had just then removed the handkerchief from her eyes. “But I would be glad to offer any assistance you think would be helpful.”

  Briefly, Emma told Lady Smithton what had occurred, aware of just how shamed the young girl was. Lady Smithton nodded understandingly, not judging the girl and certainly making no comment about how foolish she had been to walk with Lord Rochester and leave her companion behind.

  “I quite understand,” Lady Smithton replied, her expression kind. “I shall speak to you for a few moments, Miss Jackson, if you will permit me? Thereafter, I intend to speak to that companion of yours, whomever she may be.” Her smile faded as a look of anger and frustration entered her eyes. “We shall see you safely restored to the beau monde very soon, Miss Jackson, of course.”

  Miss Jackson sniffed, nodded, and dabbed at her eyes again, and Emma stepped out of the way, ensuring that Lady Smithton could make her way closer to the young lady. Her own heart was finally beginning to subdue itself, having been a little panicked by the furious way that Lord Rochester had looked at her. She did not know what he had meant by insisting that their conversation was not at an end and that he had some pertinent remarks which to press upon her, but Emma tried her best to simply dismiss the comments without considering them further. Lord Rochester had proven himself to be nothing but a rogue, hiding the truth of his character below a façade of honesty and consideration. How relieved she was that she had trusted Lord Morton’s words! How glad that she had chosen to set Lord Rochester aside and, thereafter, accept the courtship of Lord Morton. The men were vastly different from each other and, in that, there came a sudden realization. The realization that she felt a good deal more than simple admiration and contentedness over her acquaintance with Lord Morton. There was a slow-growing fondness deep within her heart. It was so small that she did not want to give it a good deal of consideration, but even being aware of it seem
ed to bring a lightness to her spirit and a smile to her lips that spoke of a happy contentedness.

  Suddenly, Emma could barely wait another moment until she saw him again. There was a good deal to tell him, but, more than that, she wanted to be within his presence and to look up into his eyes and to feel the fondness in her heart begin to grow and flourish until it became something entirely new and something utterly wonderful.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nathaniel looked up in delight as Miss Bavidge walked into the room, her aunt beside her. She was dressed in a gown of blue, which he was certain would capture the color of her eyes and make her all the more lovely. Her aunt—a lady whom he had been introduced to but thought very bland—lifted her chin and turned her head away from her niece, walking into the room and leaving Miss Bavidge in her wake. Miss Bavidge did not appear to be affected by this in any way, for she merely shrugged and turned her head to the left and then to the right, evidently looking for someone.

  A snake of excitement wriggled in his stomach as her eyes found him, for he bowed in greeting, seeing how her expression changed almost at once. Her smile grew steadily, and she quickly began to make her way towards him, dropping into a quick curtsy as she approached him.

  “Good evening, Lord Morton,” she said with a wry smile. “As you can see, I have been left to suffer this evening alone for my aunt is not inclined to spend much time with me.” This was said without malice, as though it was something she had come to expect of her aunt. “I believe she continues to fear that my name alone will blemish her in some way even though the whispers about my father and myself have finally begun to fade!”

  He grinned at her. “I am delighted to hear it!” he exclaimed, truly glad that she was no longer suffering as much. “Do you see the difference in the beau monde’s consideration of you, then?”

  She shrugged one shoulder but smiled. “I can see that they do not always follow me with their eyes, nor whisper about me behind their hands,” she replied, truthfully. “Although I believe that your attentions, as well as the efforts of Lord Havisham and Lady Smithton, have made the greatest difference. No longer am I bound to dance with those who will, thereafter, gossip about me to their companions, or who only seek my hand so as to achieve something their friends have also.” Her expression tightened, but she still smiled. “Lord Havisham has been very careful with his introductions, for the most part.” A chuckle escaped her, her eyes twinkling. “Although with Lord Rochester, I confess that I myself have surmised that he is not a gentleman of good character.”

  “No, he is not,” Nathaniel replied, fervently, filled with relief that she had come to such a conclusion on her own. The night they had been in the theatre—which had been their first outing together—he had feared that Lord Rochester would seek her out to tell her the truth about what Nathaniel had done, but, thankfully, Miss Bavidge had been less than inclined to speak to him. That did not mean that Nathaniel had any less responsibility when it came to telling Miss Bavidge the truth but, as yet, no opportunity had presented itself.

  He winced inwardly, feeling a stab of guilt. That was not quite the truth, of course, for he had enjoyed a good many times with Miss Bavidge over the last fortnight that he could have used to be honest with her about her father and his involvement in the affair, but each time he had chosen not to do so. He had told himself that it was not the right time, that he would ruin the time they had shared thus far if he spoke to her of it, and so had shied away from doing what he must.

  Another stab of guilt pushed hard into his heart, but with an effort, Nathaniel ignored it. There would be a right time; he was sure of it. There was no great hurry for him to speak to Miss Bavidge about it, for ever since she had turned her head away from Lord Rochester, he had known that she would not be giving the gentleman any great length of time with which to speak.

  “I am glad to see you here this evening, Miss Bavidge,” he said, feeling a great swell in his heart that sent his mind into a sudden flurry of thoughts and emotions. “You look quite lovely.”

  At this, Miss Bavidge blushed prettily, turning her head away just a little. She was unused to such compliments, which made Nathaniel all the more eager to give them.

  “Your gown captures the color of your eyes,” he continued a little more softly so that they would not be overheard by any of the other guests. “They remind me of the sea, of the crashing waves that break on the shore.”

  Miss Bavidge’s cheeks were still warm, but she looked up at him in interest. “You have been to the sea?” she asked, sounding excited. “Truly?”

  “Truly,” he replied, with a grin. “And it was quite a remarkable experience, I must say.”

  Miss Bavidge clasped her hands together, a look of longing etching itself onto her face. “I should love to see such a sight,” she said with such a fervency that Nathaniel could not help but feel a sudden urge to scoop her up in his arms and take her to the sea at once, even though it was a great distance away! “It must have been quite wonderful.”

  “Quite,” Nathaniel replied a little thickly, as he struggled to comprehend all that he was feeling. “As I look into your face, I am transported back there, Miss Bavidge. It was—and is—quite a lovely sight.”

  “You are very kind, Lord Morton,” Miss Bavidge replied, with a small smile in his direction, her cheeks still flushed. “Tell me, is there anywhere else that you have been or that you wish to go to still?”

  Nathaniel considered this and, for a time, the two of them fell into conversation about such things. It continually surprised him just how easy it was to talk to Miss Bavidge, how open and willing she was to listen to him. She was intelligent and bright, with a sharp wit that often made him laugh aloud. There was an ease in her manner that warmed his heart, making it almost a joy to converse with her, and for this, Nathaniel was truly grateful. There was something about her that he could not turn away from, something that was steadily growing within his heart that he did not want to ignore.

  Something so profound that, if he allowed it, would fill his whole being.

  “This evening appears to be rather dull thus far,” Miss Bavidge commented, suddenly, her voice so quiet that he had to strain to hear it. “I do not know Lord Langton well, but this affair does not seem to be particularly exciting.”

  Nathaniel chuckled, looking all about him. Lord Langton was an older gentleman who had married a younger wife and, therefore, was now required to throw such soirees so as to please her. No doubt Lady Langton would soon announce that she was to perform a few pieces on the pianoforte, which would be accompanied by her ‘dear’ sister, who was still unmarried, and therefore pushed forward by Lady Langton at almost every opportunity. The problem was, of course, that Lady Langton did not play the pianoforte particularly well and her sister, also, did not sing with any degree of accomplishment.

  “I have been to these gatherings on a few prior occasions,” he told Miss Bavidge, his gaze suddenly catching sight of Lady Langton, who had drawn near to her husband and was whispering frantically in his ear. “If you wish to be saved from an hour of tedious entertainment, might I suggest that we take a short walk about the gardens? It is light enough still outside that we may be seen and the lanterns are sure to be lit.”

  Miss Bavidge frowned, however, not immediately accepting his offer. “I would be glad to,” she said, slowly, not quite catching his eye. “But I should like to take a companion with me.”

  He looked back at her steadily, wondering why she had turned down a few minutes alone with him. “If you wish,” he agreed at once, feeling a sudden sense of disappointment flood him as though her request for them to be accompanied had frustrated him in some way. “Is Lady Smithton present?”

  Miss Bavidge shook her head, looking about her in evident frustration. “My aunt is the only one present at this time,” she replied as Lady Langton made to make her way towards the pianoforte. Biting her lip, Miss Bavidge glanced back at him, now appearing a little uncertain. “Mayhap if we stayed with
in the view of the rest of the guests?”

  “Miss Bavidge.” Surprised by her apparent concern, Nathaniel took a small step forward, reaching out for her hand, which she gave with only a momentary hesitation. “Miss Bavidge, you have nothing to fear from me,” he promised her. “I shall not attempt to press my advantage nor do anything untoward. I assure you of that. All I seek to do is remove both yourself and myself from what will soon become a fairly unpleasant situation.” Smiling at her, he glanced to his left and saw a few guests suddenly hurrying towards the French doors, with one throwing a glance towards Lady Langton as she seated herself at the pianoforte. Chuckling, he gestured to them. “It seems we will not be alone in any way, Miss Bavidge, for there are clearly others who wish to do the same!” He watched in amusement as Miss Bavidge looked towards where he gestured, seeing the surprise and then the tinge of mirth appear in her expression.

  “If you please, if you please!” Lord Langton was speaking loudly now, trying to garner the attention of his guests, and this seemed to spur Miss Bavidge into action. She pulled her hand from his and set it quickly on his arm, throwing a darting glance behind her to where Lord Langton was still speaking. Nathaniel did not hesitate but hurried her towards the French doors, only just making it out of doors before Lord Langton asked his guests to seat themselves so that they might listen to his wife’s performance.

  “That is something of a relief,” Nathaniel chuckled as Miss Bavidge looked up into his face. “You do not know how many times I have had to endure such a thing as this!” Recalling the last time, he let out a small groan, running one hand down over his face. “It was quite torturous the last time, and yet I was still expected to make out that I enjoyed every moment.”