“That is easier to do than to say, I know,” Nathaniel said quickly. “It would be quite understandable if you wished to disassociate yourself from Miss Bavidge, but I am very glad that you have such a kind heart, Lord Knighton.”
“And you also,” Lady Knighton added with a quick smile. “You also have a kind heart, Lord Morton, for you have sought that lady out and done what you can to bring her back into society’s fold, pushing aside the whispers and rumors with barely more than an acknowledgment.” Her knowing smile told Nathaniel that Lady Knighton was fully aware of all that had gone on between himself and Miss Bavidge of late, making him shift a trifle uncomfortably. “I do wonder if, Lord Morton, your intentions for Miss Bavidge herself are no longer a simple desire to see her accepted by the beau monde.”
Nathaniel made to answer, stammering horribly, only for Lord Knighton to laugh and wave a hand, breaking off Nathaniel’s reply.
“My wife is always so observant,” he chuckled, as Nathaniel let out a breath of relief. “But I shall not force you to stand here and answer. I am sure that you wish to go to join the other guests, particularly given that Miss Bavidge herself is already arrived.” He wiggled his brows and chuckled, making Nathaniel let out a bark of laughter that took some of his nervousness away.
“She is arrived, you say?” he asked, taking a small step away from his host and looking out towards the crowd. “When?”
“Only a few minutes before you,” Lord Knighton replied, with a grin. “I am certain you shall find her very quickly, Lord Morton. A gentleman does not like to be kept from his prize.”
Nathaniel gave Lord Knighton a wry grin, thanked them both again, and took his leave, suddenly determined to find Miss Bavidge and speak to her just as soon as he was able. The weight on his mind would not fade until he had done just that, which meant he had to discover her just as soon as he could.
It took some minutes of walking through the crowd and turning this way and that before he finally caught sight of Miss Bavidge. She was wearing a gown of light blue, her hair piled up on the back of her head. However, she was not looking towards him but when she turned her head and saw him, she looked down to the floor almost at once. She turned her head a little further away from him, and a knot formed in Nathaniel’s stomach at her actions.
And then, his gaze fell on Lord Rochester. He was standing by Miss Bavidge’s side, speaking to her in what appeared to be a most intimate fashion. Anger flared in Nathaniel’s heart, and he hurried towards them both, wondering what it was that Lord Rochester was saying to Miss Bavidge on this occasion, only for Lord Rochester’s gaze to fall upon him. A broad grin spread across Rochester’s face, making Nathaniel’s anger burn hot with a furious fire as his steps quickened, determined to reach both Lord Rochester and Miss Bavidge without delay.
Lord Rochester leaned forward, said something in Miss Bavidge’s ear, and, much to Nathaniel’s surprise, Miss Bavidge nodded and then turned away. Lord Rochester remained beside her, leading her towards the open doors that led to Lord Knighton’s gardens, whilst another young lady trailed after them, her expression deeply uncertain.
Nathaniel froze in place, not quite certain what to do next. He could not believe what he had just witnessed, for he had never once thought that Miss Bavidge would go anywhere willingly with Lord Rochester. Why had she gone out to the gardens with him? It could not be that she had decided to accept Lord Rochester’s attentions, surely? She was much too intelligent and wise to do something so foolish.
His feet felt like thick wooden logs that weighed him down as he tried to make his way towards the doors. His breath was catching in his chest, his throat rasping and his mouth burning with a fierce and furious heat, making him feel as though he might explode with both fury and confusion at any given moment. Stumbling outside, he held onto the rail that led him down three small steps, wondering where Miss Bavidge and Lord Rochester might have gone.
At least she is accompanied, he told himself, seeing the darkness of the evening begin to swallow up the guests who walked out of doors. But why has she gone with him?
Stumbling badly, Nathaniel moved as fast as he could, feeling his heart clamor wildly within his chest. He had to find her. He had to prevent Lord Rochester from saying anything more, had to encourage her not to listen nor believe the lies that he was certain would come from Lord Rochester’s mouth. The stones on the path crunched under his feet as he walked swiftly forward, his hands curling into fists as he centered his attention on finding Miss Bavidge.
A small cry caught his ears, making him stop dead. Turning slowly, he looked all about him, trying to discover where the sound might have come from, but nothing came into view. Another sound made his heart come to a sudden stop, skipping a beat as fear clutched at his soul. Where was Miss Bavidge?
Hardly daring to breathe but knowing that he could not remain standing so quietly and silently, Nathaniel took a deep breath and turned to his left, coming off the path and walking onto the grass. The gardens were large for a London townhouse and had plenty of small spaces where one might hide—although he could not even begin to think that Miss Bavidge had gone willingly from the path with Lord Rochester.
Another sound, one he could not quite make out, came to him and Nathaniel hurried forward a little more, his eyes searching every part of the gardens he could see.
And then, he saw her.
She was in Lord Rochester’s arms, being held tightly, whilst the other young lady who had been accompanying them stood, shocked and confused, a few steps away. Nathaniel could barely breathe, seeing Lord Rochester lift his head and, in doing so, catching Nathaniel’s eye. A slow smile spread across his face, sending a wave of nausea into Nathaniel’s stomach. This could not be. This could not be occurring, not when he had believed Miss Bavidge to be so wise. She could not possibly have gone to Lord Rochester, not when she had kissed Nathaniel only a couple of days ago! Her words had been filled with promise, filled with hope, but now as he looked at her, seeing her twist out of Lord Rochester’s embrace, the light in his heart began to dim.
Miss Bavidge saw him, her eyes flaring, and her hand pressed against her chest. “Lord Morton,” she whispered, taking a few steps towards him, although she walked unsteadily, clearly overcome by the heat of Lord Rochester’s attentions. “Lord Morton, I—”
“Have you not something to ask Lord Morton?” Lord Rochester hurried forward, grasping Miss Bavidge’s arm with one hand and gesturing towards Nathaniel. “Have you not to ask him whether what I have said is true?”
Miss Bavidge did not seem to be completely in charge of her senses, for she blinked rapidly, then looked up at Lord Rochester before dropping her gaze to where his hand had settled on her arm. She closed her eyes tightly and pulled her arm away, obviously embarrassed that Nathaniel had seen such a thing.
“You knew my father.” Her whisper was quiet, yet it seemed to fill the gardens, burning a fire of guilt in his heart.
“Yes, I did,” he replied, honestly, trying not to feel the way his heart was slowly being pulled apart. “It is as Lord Rochester says. I discovered what he was doing and spoke to the Earl of Knighton about his intentions.” He gave a small shrug, trying to ignore how Lord Rochester was grinning. “That is all. I was afraid to tell you for fear of what you would either say or do, Miss Bavidge.”
Miss Bavidge swallowed hard, her eyes glistening with sudden tears.
“The more time we spent with each other, the more I realized that I did not want you to turn from me,” Nathaniel finished helplessly. “How could I tell you what I had done? Could I hope that you would understand?”
Miss Bavidge shook her head, a tear streaking down her face. “I would never even have given you my name had I known what it was you did to both my father and to myself,” she replied, her voice shaking with suppressed emotion. “I did not know the truth. You drew near to me with falsehood in your heart.”
Nathaniel swallowed the sudden ache in his throat, seeing her anger and upset and
praying that she would let those emotions flood away so that she would consider what else lay in her heart—only to recall what he had seen of her and Lord Rochester. His heart dropped to the ground, shattering into pieces. She had clearly already set herself against him. She had gone to Lord Rochester, just as Rochester himself had predicated.
“Rochester will use you for his own ends,” he rasped, slicing the air with his hand in a sudden fit of anger. “You have believed every word he has said without even considering that it might be false. You have—”
“You have just admitted that he speaks the truth!” Miss Bavidge protested, her voice louder now with an evident anger in her words. “You have just admitted that you spoke to Lord Knighton of my father, and thereafter, the news was spread about all of London.”
Nathaniel lifted his chin, aware that this was one of the saddest moments that he had experienced thus far, but also that he was not about to allow her to spread guilt over him for a choice had made. A choice that, whilst difficult for her to accept mayhap, one that had been made in the right spirit and with the correct desire—the desire that an innocent gentleman not be taken advantage of by some misguided individual who wanted nothing other than to take some of the gentleman’s wealth as his own.
“I shall not apologize, Miss Bavidge, for what I have done. Rather, I intend to stand by it, to state unequivocally that, should I be faced with such a decision again, I would do the very same.” He saw Miss Bavidge take a small step back as if he had slapped her, but he steadied his resolve regardless. “I may have been foolish in what I chose to do thereafter, but I shall never regret preventing Lord Knighton from being so treated.” Seeing how she dropped her head, Nathaniel felt his heart twist in his chest, both shocked and horrified at how she had seemingly returned to Lord Rochester without any consideration. Their courtship, it seemed, was over, just as Lord Rochester had stated it would be. Quite how he had engineered it, Nathaniel was not certain, but there had been no mistaking what he had seen. The desire to turn away, to look anywhere but Miss Bavidge’s face, grew forcefully within him until he could not help but give in.
“I shall leave you to your… companion,” he said, harshly, throwing the words over his shoulder as he retreated towards the path. “Goodbye, Miss Bavidge.”
If she responded, Nathaniel did not hear her. His heart ached far too much, his head swimming with confusing and conflicting thoughts that seemed to bore into his mind. Pain etched itself over his forehead, spreading across his skull as he made his way back inside, no longer finding even the smallest enjoyment in the gathering nor the music within.
“Lord Morton!”
He could barely focus, only just managing to lift his head to see Lady Smithton come into view.
“Lord Morton, whatever has occurred?” Lady Smithton asked, sounding quite horrified. “You look quite done in.”
Nathaniel found his mouth was much too heavy to form words, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. He saw Lady Smithton’s look of alarm grow even bigger as he shook his head wordlessly, felt her hand press upon his arm.
“You must not leave,” she said, firmly, looking directly up into his face. “You must not. Whatever has occurred, we must resolve it.”
Nathaniel lowered his head, his eyes squeezing shut so as to close out the sight of Lady Smithton, to hide himself away from lights and sounds of the ball going on all around him. The memory of Miss Bavidge in Lord Rochester’s arms threw itself back into his mind, making a groan escape from his mouth. This, in turn, made Lady Smithton’s hand tighten on his arm, her fear now evident in her face as he opened his eyes to look at her.
“Lord Rochester,” he rasped, hearing how decrepit his voice sounded. “He…” Trailing off, he gestured behind him just as someone knocked into him, hard, pushing him forward. Stumbling, he caught himself just in time, regaining his balance and turning around to see none other than the young lady who had been escorting Miss Bavidge grasping desperately onto Lady Smithton’s arm, gesturing wildly with the other hand and tugging Lady Smithton forward. Lady Smithton went white, her eyes suddenly blazing with apparent anger, and she hurried forward without another word to Nathaniel. Lord Havisham, having just appeared behind Lady Smithton, followed them also, evidently aware that something was not at all right.
Blinking, Nathaniel tried to regain some of his composure, looking all about him to see if he had garnered any attention. Thankfully, it seemed that the majority of the ton were much too busy with their conversations and dances, meaning that none of them were particularly interested in anything that had just occurred.
Shaking his head as though to clear it, Nathaniel took in one long breath. Lady Smithton had asked him to remain, not to leave as he had first intended—but why should he do as she asked? What would be the reason to stay? Miss Bavidge had made herself clear and had ripped his heart from his body in wrapping her arms about Lord Rochester instead of about him, as he had dreamed of. Her sorrow and anger over his decision to speak to Lord Knighton about her father’s intentions to blackmail him had taken him aback completely. He had thought she might understand why he had done such a thing, for he knew full well that she accepted her father’s actions had been wrong. A part of him wanted to believe that she had spoken so out of hurt that he had not been honest with her, which he could well understand, but that had not been clear from her words. He had lost her forever, it seemed. She had turned away from him and had chosen to fall into Lord Rochester’s arms instead. Perhaps he had never really known the truth of her character at all.
Nathaniel was in a state of shock. Thinking perhaps he should leave the ball entirely, Nathaniel began to weave his way aimlessly through the crowd of guests, their laughter and smiles beating down upon his already heavy shoulders. He felt as though he could no longer be one of them, that any modicum of happiness had been ripped from him completely. There was nothing left here for him now. The rest of the season would be dull and lonely, wafting nothing but sadness and sorrow over his heart. There was no use in staying in London, he reasoned. Mayhap, even the morrow, he might begin to make arrangements to return to his estate.
You must not leave. Whatever has occurred, we must resolve it.
Lady Smithton’s words began to wind their way through Nathaniel’s morose mind, reminding him of how Lady Smithton had appeared when the second young lady, whose name he knew but could not recollect, had come charging into the ballroom to search for her. A slight twinge of unease buried itself into his heart, making him hesitate as he placed one foot in front of the other, more or less making his way to the door.
Something was clearly wrong. Most likely, it was simply that the young lady had been as shocked as he over Miss Bavidge’s and Lord Rochester’s behavior and not known what else to do other than seek out Lady Smithton. Mayhap, in her fright, she had stood stock still for a few minutes, frozen in place, until she had regained her senses and gone in search of the lady. Most likely, Lady Smithton was doing all she could to smooth matters, or otherwise, she was insisting that the two announce their engagement at once. Another painful bite tore into his heart. Would Miss Bavidge end up becoming Lord Rochester’s bride? He could think of nothing worse, for Miss Bavidge was not at all suited to such a dark character as Rochester—but what was he to do about it?
What if there is something wrong?
The question made him stop dead, his heart thundering furiously as he considered matters. If there was even the smallest chance that there was something wrong, that he had made even the tiniest error in judgment, then did he not owe it to both himself and to Miss Bavidge to discover what the truth was? Could he really return home, return to his estate, without discovering why the young lady had been so frantic in her desire to have Lady Smithton hurry out to the gardens? He might assume that it was simply to do with Miss Bavidge and Lord Rochester’s improper behavior, but there was a chance that he was wrong.
Groaning aloud at his indecision and at weakness when it came to Miss Bavidg
e, Nathaniel forced himself to turn back around and walk towards the doors to the gardens once more. Each step felt heavier than the last, his regret growing ever stronger. Certain that he would come upon a sight that would only add to his pain all the more, Nathaniel gritted his teeth and forced himself outside. The three short steps led him back to the path where he had been only a few minutes before, although he could see no sign of anyone.
And then, a shout rippled around the gardens, although it was soon swallowed up by the sound of music and laughter that ran from the open doors. There were only a few others out walking outside and none of them, Nathaniel noticed, seemed to pay any attention to the sound. His ears strained to hear more, but nothing came. Forcing himself to walk from the path to the grass, just as he had done before, Nathaniel made his way carefully forward, underneath the branches of a tree and feeling himself encased in shadow a little more. The light was fading fast, and it was difficult to make anything out.
“How dare you?”
A male voice scurried towards him, although the words were not directed towards himself. Frowning, Nathaniel moved forward as silently as he could, only to see a gentleman he did not recognize planting a facer upon another. The second fell back with a small cry, stumbling back and hitting his head on a tree trunk. Much to Nathaniel’s horror, the man collapsed to the ground, which garnered a gasp from three others whom he had not, as yet, noticed. They appeared to be three ladies, which he immediately presumed to be Lady Smithton, Miss Bavidge, and the other young lady whose name he could not recall. Confusion tore through his mind as he returned his gaze to the gentleman still standing, seeing him move forward to the fallen one and bend down for a moment.
“He lives still,” he said, gruffly, making Nathaniel realize that it was none other than Lord Havisham who spoke. “Knocked out cold for the time being.”
“Mayhap that is for the best,” came the soft voice of Lady Smithton. “We must decide what we are to do now. This cannot be allowed to continue.” Her head turned towards Nathaniel, although he felt sure she could not see him in the shadow of the tree.
The Disgraced Bride: The Spinsters Guild (Book 2) Page 14
