by Leenie Brown
“She returned to the house,” Ramsey put forward.
“Yes, yes,” Carlyle agreed. “But not until after she informed me of how well you have taught her about assignations.”
As much as Roger wished to hit the man, he refrained, allowing himself to only give Carlyle a good shove that sent him stumbling backward. “She is a good friend. I would be careful how I spoke of her if I were you.”
“Is that so?” Carlyle taunted. “Exactly how good a friend is she, Shelton? We all know your reputation with the fairer sex.”
“Mr. Shelton.” Grace was at his elbow. “Please, do not hit him.”
“Why not?” He pulled his arm away from her. “Even you must know what he is insinuating about Victoria.”
“I do, and it is most improper. But think of the explanation that will be required if Mr. Carlyle returns with a black eye or bloody nose.” She looked at Carlyle and added, “Not that he does not deserve both.”
From the vehement tone she used to say that last bit, it appeared to Roger that there was some fire hidden within Miss Grace Love. Hopefully, she would learn to use that fire when dealing with her sister, who was smiling behind her fingers as if what was happening was the most amusing things she had ever witnessed.
“Do you find me entertaining, Miss Love?” Roger asked. “Or do you find it diverting when someone accuses another lady of impropriety?”
Felicity gasped. “You are very forward, Mr. Shelton.”
“And you are a conniving wench, Miss Love.”
“Mr. Shelton!” Grace scolded.
“She is. You have seen how she has treated Mr. Clayton.”
Grace shrugged and nodded.
“Mr. Clayton, who,” he glared at Felicity, “happens to be the brother of my very dear friend.”
“It was not right what she did, ” Miss Grace said.
“Indeed, it was not. You are far more sensible than your sister will likely ever be, Miss Grace. Shall we return to the house?” Spending any further time with Ramsey, Carlyle, and Miss Love seemed a poor idea for it would only lead to him being less and less able to rein in his temper and would do nothing to help him find Victoria.
“Mr. Ramsey is not good enough for you,” he whispered as he and Grace began to walk back to the house. “You deserve far better.”
“Thank you,” Grace muttered sadly.
They walked silently for a few moments, and with every step, Roger became more and more indigent about whatever had transpired at the rotunda – and not just because of what Carlyle had implied about Victoria.
The bulk of his anger lay with Miss Love. Had she not schemed to steal away with Mr. Ramsey, Victoria would not have been put in a position with Mr. Carlyle which was awkward enough for her to say anything as shocking as what Carlyle had implied she had said about seductions. Victoria did not say shocking things to anyone but him – and then, it was only because he had pushed her to the point of doing so.
Added to that sin was the abominable way in which Miss Love had treated Everett – and her sister. He glanced sideways at Grace. How could an older sister take advantage of a younger sister in such a fashion? Was Miss Love completely incapable of loving anyone save herself? He was about to inquire of Grace how she could abide such a sister when they were approached by Mrs. Love.
“Have you seen Felicity? Is she well? Why did you not tell me your sister was injured?” she demanded of Grace all in one breath.
“That is likely because she is not injured,” Roger replied.
“But I have received a report that she is!”
“She did turn her ankle, but she said that it was nothing and that I was not to worry you about it,” Grace said.
“She was not favouring either ankle when we saw her just now. However, her hair was a bit disheveled, and her cheeks looked rather pleasingly pink, which I would assume was due to the few stolen moments with Mr. Ramsey and not any particular injury.”
Mrs. Love’s eyes grew wide, and she turned once again to her youngest daughter. “Did you know your sister was planning to sneak off?”
Grace shook her head. “Not completely.”
“What do you mean not completely? Either you did or you did not?”
“I knew it was likely and that it was what she wished.” Grace’s head dipped.
“Then, you did know.”
“Yes,” Grace whispered, “I knew all too well when she sent me back with Mr. Clayton. Until then, I was not entirely sure.”
“Mr. Clayton is not with her?”
“No, he has given up on her,” Roger said, “as any sensible fellow should.”
Mrs. Love gasped.
“She has treated him very ill, madame.”
“Has she indeed?”
She was questioning the fact? How could she not see that it was true beyond a shadow of a doubt?
“She ignored him while flirting with others and this after spending some stolen moments with him in the garden at Stratsbury Park.” He motioned toward the rotunda. “And tonight, she has schemed to do the same thing with Mr. Ramsey without taking care whatsoever to hide it from Clayton, who is not happy about being rid of her at the moment, but he will be.”
“Can all this be true?” She looked as if she was about to faint dead away.
“Yes, Mother,” Grace answered.
“And you have helped her conceal this?’
“She asked me to.”
“With all due respect, madame,” Roger interrupted, for he did not wish to stand here discussing Grace’s role in all of this when he needed to find Victoria, “I believe it is your eldest daughter who deserves your ire at present. I will return Miss Grace to the house.”
Mrs. Love tipped her head and gave him a questioning look. “I have not seen you all day, and now you are here with my daughter. Why is that?”
Roger blew out a breath, but before he could say anything, Grace replied for him.
“He was looking for Miss Hamilton. He has only just arrived back from…where were you?”
“I went home.”
“He has only just arrived back from his home and needs to speak to Miss Hamilton most urgently. So, I was helping him find her.”
“We were never outside the view of the house, madame.”
“Nothing untoward happened?”
“I would never treat your daughter so ill. Nor would she allow it.”
“I would not?” Grace asked.
“No, do you not remember what you told me earlier when we were discussing Mr. Clayton?”
“Oh! Right!” She shook her head as she looked at her mother. “Mrs. Berkley told me that Mr. Shelton would never be tricked into marrying anyone. He would leave them ruined – not that he would ruin them, that part would be done by the lady’s scheming – rather than be forced into marriage. And I would not be foolish enough to be ruined.”
Mrs. Love wore a perplexed expression. “I think that is good?”
“Most admirable,” Roger assured her. “Now, if I could return Grace to the house and find Miss Hamilton.”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Love still wore a bewildered expression. “She is in the house, and, from what I heard before Mrs. Berkley found me, Miss Hamilton was seen to be on her way upstairs with Mr. Clayton.”
Had the woman said what he thought she had said?
“Why was she on her way upstairs with Mr. Clayton?” Grace asked.
Mrs. Love shook her head. “How should I know? However, it does seem rather improper.”
It most certainly did! Roger gave Grace’s arm a tug. “I think we should walk rapidly.”
“If it would not cause a stir, I would suggest we run,” Grace said as she scampered to keep up with him. “In fact, if you wish to run, I can find my way back to the house on my own.”
“No, I told your mother I would see you there. I am a man of my word.”
“For a gentleman with your reputation, Mr. Shelton, you are most shockingly noble.”
Roger chuckled and thanked her. H
e had never taken advantage where advantage was not given. He was not a swindler – not even when it came to kisses. And while he had enjoyed every garden and alcove interlude of which he had been a part, and he was not opposed to presenting the suggestion of impropriety, not once had he stolen anything. However, all of that was in the past. Presently, he had only to find Victoria and persuade her to marry him and make him the happiest of all men.
“You!”
Roger stopped just inside the door to the drawing room as a red-faced gentleman approached him.
“May I be of service?” he asked warily. He had not seen Mr. Upton at the house party before this, but he knew him from town. The man was a rash, hot-headed man.
“Roger!”
He turned to see his sister hurrying toward him. It seemed he was not destined to make a quick and quiet entry.
“Where have you been?” Diana asked.
“With my sister,” Mr. Upton said just before his fist made contact with Roger’s chin.
Chapter 14
Roger staggered backward, rubbing his throbbing chin. “I went home,” he said to Diana.
“Home?” Mr. Upton scoffed. “Not according to my sister.”
“I swear I have not been with your sister,” Roger said, dodging another punch before dropping his shoulder and charging the man, sending them both to the floor.
“You’ll marry her!” Mr. Upton struggled to toss Roger off of him.
“I will not marry a liar.” Roger sat on Mr. Upton and held the fellow’s wrists. “And if your sister is the one who has told you that she was with me, she is most certainly a liar. I was at home. You can verify that with my mother, my father, and Mr. Berkley, as well as his infant son.”
“Get off me!”
“Not unless you give me your word that you will not attack me again.”
Mr. Upton struggled for a moment longer before assuring Roger that he would not hit him.
“Now,” Roger said after he had risen, straightened his jacket, and smoothed his hair, “might we find a place to discuss this in a more gentlemanly fashion?” He rubbed his chin. A cold compress would be most welcome.
“The library,” Mr. Upton suggested.
“A proper choice.” Roger turned toward the door. “And bring your sister,” he called over his shoulder.
“I would also like to speak to you.” Diana followed him from the room. “However, I must go up to my charge and tell her that someone has spread a vicious rumor about her and Mr. Clayton.”
Roger shook his head. “Vicious rumors seem to be the thing this evening.”
Diana raised an eyebrow at him and scowled. “And if you had been here instead of dashing home, none of them would have started.”
Her words smarted nearly as much as his chin. “I had a good reason to be gone.” He caught her elbow before she could make her escape. “I spoke to your husband.”
“About what?”
“Your hopes for me.”
She tipped her head, her brow furrowing.
He blew out a slow breath as Mr. and Miss Upton joined them. “I will tell you more later. Just know that I wish for the same.” He released his sister’s elbow and motioned to the library. “After you.”
“Diana,” he called to his sister before he followed the Uptons into the library.
She turned toward him.
“I’m sorry.”
She stood looking expectantly at him.
“For making a mess of things.”
She smiled at him.
“You will tell Victoria that?”
She nodded.
“She is not with Clayton?”
Diana sighed and walked back to him. “It is a rumour. She is in her room. She fell – I believe while trying to avoid Mr. Carlyle.”
Carlyle had caused harm to come to Victoria? Could fury cause a gentleman’s heart to explode from beating too rapidly? He rubbed his chest. He was likely to discover the answer. “I should have injured him when I had the chance!”
Diana patted his cheek. “Later, dear. You have people waiting for you.” She tipped her head toward the open door in front of which he stood.
He gave her a small smile and then, drawing a breath, joined the Uptons and a sleepy Yardley in the library where he crossed to the decanter of port and poured a small amount into a glass.
“Yardley, I am disappointed. You have not emptied this carafe.”
“There is only so much one man can consume. Clayton did a fine job helping me consume that much.” He glanced at their companions. “Should I leave?”
Roger shook his head. “There is no need. In fact, you might find this entertaining, and I would appreciate a witness should Mr. Upton decide to accost me again.” Roger rubbed his chin.
“You hit Shelton?” Yardley asked Upton.
“He has ruined my sister.” Upton stood behind the chair in which his sister sat.
“He has?” Yardley asked in surprise.
“No, he has not,” Miss Upton protested.
“But I heard you say he,” Upton stabbed the air in Roger’s direction, “stole away to be with you.”
Miss Upton’s look of mortification deepened. Roger was confident that if the chair were to burst into flames and consume the young lady with it, she would not be coming back as a disgruntled ghost except perhaps to torment her brother.
“You did not hear everything.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I heard enough.”
“No!” Miss Upton sprang from her chair and turned on her brother. “You never hear enough. You only ever hear what you wish, and you never stop to consider or verify if what you have heard is true.”
“I… I… I… I do,” Upton sputtered.
“No, you do not. Do you know how many perfectly acceptable gentlemen have not called on me because you have heard something and assumed the worst? And now this! Why are you even here? Was not our aunt a good enough chaperone? Were you afraid I might actually make a match before you could ruin it?”
Roger leaned against the sideboard and nursed his glass of port while watching the Uptons with interest.
“I am ruined!” Miss Upton dropped back into her chair and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders rising and falling in shuddering silent sobs.
“Why are you here?” Yardley asked Miss Upton’s brother.
“Grandmother has taken ill and is not expected to survive the week.”
Miss Upton gasped, and her sobs became audible. Roger’s heart clenched at the plight of the young woman.
“I have been sent to see that all is well in here,” Mr. Abernathy said as he entered the library. “My wife was fearful that one object or another might be injured in your discussion.” He gave Roger a quizzical look with a tip of his head toward Miss Upton.
“Her grandmother is gravely ill,” Roger replied. “And her brother is an idiot.”
“I am sorry to hear it,” Mr. Abernathy said. “Will you need to take your sister home?”
“Yes, sir,” Mr. Upton answered. “I fear that my mind is not right at the moment. It seems I heard something which was not what was said.”
“Distressing circumstances can cause such to happen. Might I inquire what you heard that was not right?” Mr. Abernathy asked.
“My sister was speaking with your daughter when I arrived, and I heard my sister say that Shelton had stolen away to be with her.” He shrugged. “I do not know what the rest was about. I apologize for arriving at a conclusion without all the facts. To both of you,” he said, turning to look at Roger. “You would not consider marrying my sister, would you?”
Roger shook his head. “I am afraid I would not. Not that there is any particular deficit with your sister.”
“Miss Upton,” Mr. Abernathy said, “are you able to tell me about what you and my daughter were speaking which led to this unfortunate misunderstanding?”
“Miss… Love,” she managed between sobs.
“What about Miss Love?” Mr. Abernathy
pressed.
Miss Upton drew and released a breath as she dried her cheeks with the handkerchief her brother had given her.
“We… had heard… a rumor that she had set her cap at… Mr. Ramsey.” Her eyes were fixed on the handkerchief as she now twisted it in her hands as she gained control of her emotions. “He is very handsome and has a good fortune, unlike Mr. Clayton, who is only handsome and possesses a moderate fortune. Well, you see.” She paused. “She had told Miss Abernathy ‘I wish he would be like Mr. Shelton and steal away to be with me all day.’ I was shocked, of course, and gasped just as my aunt joined us and made me repeat it to her.” She sighed. “Which was just as my brother appeared.”
“And decided to seek me out,” Roger said.
Miss Upton nodded her head. “But I did not know that is what he was doing until he charged across the room at you. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course. As long as we do not have to marry,” he replied with a wink.
She smiled.
“Was that the extent of my daughter’s gossip?” Mr. Abernathy did not sound at all pleased.
Miss Upton nodded. “The only other thing that was said before Mr. Shelton entered the drawing room was said by my aunt. She told us that Miss Love would not be best pleased to hear that her offcast – meaning Mr. Clayton,” she clarified, “was seen going upstairs with Miss Hamilton.”
“Did she say where she heard that?” Roger asked.
“No, she did not. I am not even certain if she heard it or saw it. I was going to ask her, but my brother…”
Roger nodded his understanding. “Miss Hamilton is in her room with my sister. She is not with Mr. Clayton. However, I heard the same thing from a different source.”
Mr. Abernathy shook his head. “This is a fine mess, is it not?”
“Indeed,” Roger agreed.
“I am almost sorry I have spent the whole evening in the library,” Yardley muttered.
“I will speak to both my daughter and my wife.” Mr. Abernathy turned toward the door which was flung open before he reached it.
“You cannot marry her.” Victoria with a robe wrapped tightly about her and her hair hanging down her back in a braid paid no attention to the others in the room or her chaperone who was attempting softly to tell her that she should return to her room.
