Page 19 of A Spinster’s Folly (Courting the Unconventional #2)
T he following morning, Eugenie descended the grand staircase of her townhouse. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows of the entry hall, illuminating the polished marble floors. She tipped her head at the butler, who stood at his usual post, ever composed.
“Good morning,” she greeted.
“Good morning, my lady,” Tanner responded with a slight bow. Then with a gesture towards a small side table near the entrance, he added, “A delivery arrived for you just moments ago.”
Eugenie’s gaze followed his gesture, landing on a magnificent bouquet of fresh flowers. It was customary for gentlemen to send flowers after a dance, but somehow, the sight of them still sent a flicker of excitement through her.
Stepping forward, she plucked the small ivory card nestled between the stems. With a growing sense of anticipation, she unfolded it and read the elegantly scrawled words :
These flowers pale in comparison to your beauty…
Eugenie barely stifled an eye roll. Was that truly the best line Charles could come up with? Dropping the card onto the table without bothering to read the rest, she turned on her heel and made her way towards the dining room.
As she walked, she couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling that had been clinging to her since last night.
It wasn’t anger—not exactly. She had believed Charles when he assured her that nothing had happened with Miss Winslow, and yet…
something still pricked at her, something she could not quite define.
Jealousy?
She scoffed at the ridiculousness of the thought. She had no claim over Charles, nor did she wish to. So why did the memory of Miss Winslow pressed against him still linger in the back of her mind?
Shaking the thought away, she entered the dining room.
Her brother was seated at the head of the long mahogany table, the newssheets spread open before him. The aroma of fresh bread, eggs, and chocolate filled the air, but he appeared far too engrossed in his reading to pay it any mind.
At the sound of her approaching footsteps, Niles looked up. His expression was unusually serious for such an early hour. “Good,” he said, setting down the newssheets. “You’re here.”
Eugenie slid into her seat across from him, her brow furrowing. “Is something amiss?”
Without a word, Niles folded the newssheets and handed it to her. “Would you care to explain this?”
She accepted it, her gaze scanning the pages. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“The Society section,” Niles said grimly. “Particularly the article titled A Spinster’s Guide to Scandal . ”
Eugenie’s breath caught. “They published it?” she whispered, barely believing her own words.
Niles leaned forward, his expression a mixture of exasperation and concern. “Apparently so,” he replied. “Do you have any idea what could happen if someone were to discover that you wrote that article? Eugenie, you could be ruined.”
She waved a dismissive hand, excitement still bubbling inside her. “I wrote it under a pseudonym.” Her eyes skimmed over the article, her own words staring back at her in bold print. Pride swelled in her chest. She had done it!
But Niles was not sharing in her triumph. His expression remained uncertain as he lowered his voice. “You know how the servants like to gossip.”
Eugenie gently set the newssheets on the table and met her brother’s gaze with measured calm. “I will be careful,” she said. “I am not reckless.”
“Careful?” Niles scoffed. “You intend to continue writing, then?”
“Yes, for as long as they continue publishing my work.”
Niles frowned, clearly displeased. “I do not think that is wise.”
Eugenie knew that she needed to choose her next words carefully. “This is something I need to do.”
Her brother studied her, his fingers drumming against the table’s surface.
“You have never understood,” she continued, her voice gaining quiet strength.
“You are free to do as you please. To manage your estates, to make decisions that impact your future. But women? We are expected to do nothing but sit in drawing rooms and receive guests. Our lives are dictated by Society’s rules.
I refuse to accept that as my only fate. ”
Niles sighed heavily. “Women who defy convention are not looked kindly upon,” he warned. “You might be opening Pandora’s box with this article. ”
Eugenie held his gaze, unwavering. “Or perhaps,” she countered, “I am opening a door to something wonderful.”
Leaning back in his chair, Niles said, “I daresay you have been reading too many fairy tales,” he muttered. “Not everyone gets a happy ending.”
She smiled faintly, lifting her cup of chocolate to her lips. “No,” she agreed. “But some of us are determined to try.”
Before Niles could respond, Elsbeth stepped gracefully into the dining room, drawing their attention as she offered an apologetic smile. “I do hope I haven’t kept you waiting. I apologize for being late to breakfast,” she said as she approached the table.
Niles rose from his chair and pulled out a seat for her. “Nonsense, my love biscuit. You are right on time.”
Eugenie wrinkled her nose. “Must you call her that?”
Niles smirked. “And miss the opportunity to see your reaction? Perish the thought.”
Turning to Elsbeth with a raised brow, Eugenie asked, “Surely you do not enjoy being referred to as a ‘love biscuit’?”
Elsbeth cast a sidelong glance at her husband. “I think it’s rather sweet,” she admitted with a soft smile.
Eugenie huffed and turned her attention to the plate of food that had just been placed in front of her. “You two are hopeless.”
Elsbeth laughed as she lifted her fork. “Oh, that reminds me—will you be joining my sewing circle today?”
“Yes,” Eugenie replied. “I find that I am actually looking forward to it.”
“Wonderful. We have made great progress already, donating dozens of frocks to the young girls at the workhouse,” Elsbeth shared. “But there is still much more to be done.”
Curious, Eugenie studied her sister-in-law. “Were you close with Lady Jane before she gave you the cut direct? ”
Elsbeth’s smile faltered slightly. “We were as thick as thieves growing up. Our parents often attended the same house parties, and Jane and I would sneak into the ballroom, hiding under the tables so we could watch the dancing.” A wistful look crossed her face.
“We used to whisper about the gowns, the music, the couples waltzing across the floor, and we would pretend that one day, we, too, would be the belles of the ball.”
“You never got caught?” Eugenie asked.
With an amused look, Elsbeth replied, “Oh, we got caught every time. Our nursemaids always managed to find us, giggling beneath the tablecloths.”
Niles, who had been quietly listening, smiled fondly at his wife. “I can picture that perfectly.”
Eugenie regarded Elsbeth with quiet sympathy. “It must have hurt when she turned her back on you.”
Elsbeth’s smile disappeared completely. “It did,” she said. “When the scandal about my father broke, all my friends abandoned me. Every single one.” Her voice softened, thick with the weight of old wounds. “It was a very lonely time.”
Niles reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Now the ton adores you again.”
Elsbeth’s lips curved into a wry smile. “I wouldn’t say they adore me. They merely tolerate me because of the man I married.”
Eugenie fell silent, stabbing absently at her breakfast. She had always admired Elsbeth’s quiet resilience, but hearing the lingering pain in her voice made her chest tighten. The ton was a fickle beast, cruel and unforgiving when it chose to be.
Deciding to shift the subject, she reached for the newssheets, intending to peruse the Society pages as she sipped her chocolate. But the moment her eyes landed on a particular line, she gasped aloud.
Niles immediately looked up. “What is it? ”
Eugenie didn’t lift her gaze from the newssheets. “An article mentions me.”
She finally looked up in time to catch Elsbeth exchanging a knowing glance with Niles before saying, “It is common for the Society pages to list whom a lady danced with at a ball.”
Eugenie shook her head, her grip tightening on the newssheets. “No. That is not it.” She inhaled deeply before reading aloud, “ Lady Eugenie was heard giggling on a path before reappearing on the veranda, with Lord Bedford following closely behind. ”
Elsbeth pressed her lips together. “Did that happen?”
“Yes… no…” Eugenie stumbled over her words before collecting her thoughts. “Last night, while you two were dancing, I heard giggling near the side of the townhouse. I went to investigate and found Miss Winslow…” she hesitated, glancing at Niles, “… pressed up against Lord Bedford.”
Her brother’s face held disapproval. “That was foolish of you. You should never have left the veranda.”
“Well, I did, and there is no use arguing over it now,” Eugenie responded. “When Lord Bedford saw me, he followed me back to the veranda and explained that Miss Winslow had tried to kiss him.”
Niles crossed his arms. “And you believed him?”
Eugenie met his gaze without hesitation. “I did.”
“Did the article say anything else about you?” Elsbeth asked.
“No,” Eugenie admitted with a sigh. “But that was enough, was it not?”
Niles shoved back his chair, rising from his seat. He strode towards the window, peering out with an expression of deep contemplation. “I warned you, Eugenie. Your actions have consequences. And now, your name has been dragged into a scandal. ”
Eugenie gritted her teeth, knowing he was right, even if she loathed admitting it. “What am I to do?”
Elsbeth offered her a weak but reassuring smile. “We will weather this storm together,” she said encouragingly. But then, after a brief pause, she added, “However… this does not bode well for you.”
Eugenie’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Am I ruined? Over a single article?”
Niles and Elsbeth exchanged a meaningful look, silent words passing between them. It was Elsbeth who finally spoke. “I can’t say for certain—not yet.”