Page 35 of Courting Scandal With The Duke

A unt Lenore appeared at the doorway of Barbara’s chamber. She stared at the trunk in the middle of the room and the half-filled portmanteau.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Packing.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To Lady Wells’s ball. Charles will accompany me.’ She needed to leave before the news of her attendance at the boxing saloon reached her aunt’s ears.

Aunt Lenore flitted into the room and perched on the chair at the dressing table. ‘This is very sudden, Barbara. You said nothing to me about going to this ball alone.’

‘I most certainly did. I told you I would go if I could find a suitable escort.’

‘I should go with you.’

‘No, no. You go and enjoy your game of cards. I will be perfectly safe with Charles. You know I will.’

‘But why are you packing? Will you not return tonight? ’

‘It will be very late when the ball is over and Charles was worried about footpads. I might even stay a day or so longer. I have never been to Greenwich. I would like to see the observatory.’

Her aunt looked doubtful.

Barbara gave her a quick hug. ‘Do not worry. Everything will be fine.’

‘If you say so. But you will take your maid?’

‘Naturally.’ She just hoped her maid wouldn’t object to country living, because after today, Barbara could never return to London Society.

‘Have you heard from Derbridge?’

The sound of his name was like an arrow piercing her heart.

She took a deep breath. ‘The Duke and I agreed that we were not suited and he will pursue a bride elsewhere.’

It hurt to say it.

It hurt to think it.

After what she had done, she knew she would never see him again. Could never. It would be far too painful. For her.

Because now he must despise her utterly. She had seen it in his eyes in that brief second when their gazes met in that horrible place full of men and smoke and… She shuddered.

She never wanted to see that look from him again.

She was not the right wife for him and he had only offered marriage because he saw it as his duty.

Marriage under those circumstances was out of the question.

‘Oh, dear,’ Aunt Lenore said vaguely. ‘I thought you two were getting along well. The way he looked at you at the theatre. And you him. April and May, I thought for sure—’

‘Aunt! Please. Stop.’ She threw her toiletries in the portmanteau.

‘Your father needs to hear about this.’

‘Father is not here.’ As usual. ‘You can tell him all about it when he returns.’

Her maid came in with her hat and coat on and with a footman. ‘The hackney is outside, my lady, and James is ready to take your bags down.’

‘Thank you.’

‘A hackney?’ her aunt said. ‘Why is Charles not coming to fetch you?’

‘Because he needs to hire a carriage and I am meeting him at the livery.’ In fact, she had hired the coach, since she would need it for her onward travels, but she did not want her father to know which stable she had used and trace her whereabouts.

She had arranged for the hired coach to meet her at Charles’s lodgings.

‘Excuse me please, Aunt, I am already somewhat late, and if I delay further this hackney will cost far more than it should.’

She stepped back to allow the young man to pick up her trunk and followed him downstairs with her maid carrying the bag.

At the front door, she bid her aunt farewell. She gave her only a brief kiss on the cheek, and felt terrible, because likely she would never see the woman again. She had grown fond of her.

Unexpectedly, tears burned at the backs of her eyes. She was going to miss the old dear. She turned away quickly in case she revealed too much.

Her aunt was her father’s creature and would always take sides with him. Barbara could never trust her with her secrets, at least not anything important.

Out of her aunt’s hearing, she directed the hackney driver to Charles’s lodgings and climbed aboard with her maid.

Charles was waiting for them on the pavement when they arrived.

‘I was beginning to think you would not come,’ he said. ‘Or that I had misunderstood and I should come to fetch you.’

Barbara lowered the veil on her hat. For once, she did not want to be recognised. ‘You are sure you do not mind staying overnight?’

‘Positive.’

There was an odd note in his voice.

She frowned.

‘Do not worry, my dear. All will be well. By tomorrow your little mistake will be old news and everything will be as before.’

He clearly did not understand English Society. ‘You are such a good friend to me, Charles.’

He beamed. ‘Please. Get in the coach and let us be on our way. I will ride with the coachman if you do not mind. The confines of the carriage upset my digestion.’

They climbed aboard.

Barbara leaned back against the squabs as the coach started off. She had done it. Finally she had escaped the machinations of her father.

The fact that she would never see Xavier again carved a hole in her chest. The pain of it was almost unbearable. But it would heal. It had to. While she had been unable to prevent herself from falling in love with him, he did not love her back.

He saw her only as a duty or a burden that needed to be moulded into his idea of a perfect wife.

That horrible list of his had made that perfectly clear.

She glanced over at her maid, who was staring out of the window. ‘Have you ever been to Greenwich?’

‘No, my lady. I cannot say I have.’

‘Nor I.’ Charles might say she should not worry, but the chance was very high that someone among Lady Wells’s guests would have heard of her supposed faux pas this afternoon and in short order she would be persona non grata .

Which was why she planned to plead illness once she arrived and remain in her room until she could sneak away.

She hoped Charles would not be too annoyed when he discovered her gone tomorrow morning.

She felt terrible about taking advantage of his friendship. Dishonourable .

She would leave him a note and hopefully he would understand, the way he always had.

As to where she would go? She had decided on a small village near the coast. She had enough funds to last her for a few months.

She did not know how long it would take for Father to hand over her widow’s portion from her first marriage after her birthday, but hopefully not longer than that.

But if it did, she had the Lipsweiger jewels to fall back on.

She took a deep breath.

She could do this.

She really didn’t have a choice.

‘The Countess is not at home,’ the butler declared.

‘The same way she wasn’t at home the last time I called?’ Xavier said.

‘Your Grace, she has left the house.’

Damn it. The man was telling the truth. Xavier could tell. He contemplated leaving it at that. But could not. He needed some sort of explanation for her behaviour and to help devise a plan to deal with it.

‘Is Miss Lowell at home?’

‘I can ask.’

Xavier handed the man his card. He wasn’t going to storm in on the elderly widow. It wouldn’t be right.

Barbara was a different matter.

He paced the hall, waiting for the butler’s return. It seemed like a long time, but probably wasn’t.

‘Miss Lowell will see you in the drawing room,’ the butler said when he reached the bottom of the stairs, and with a sigh he turned to go up again.

‘Don’t bother to show me up,’ Xavier said. ‘I know the way.’

The ancient butler stepped back with a relieved look. ‘Thank you, Your Grace.’

He found Miss Lowell sitting stiffly on a sofa with the air of a person about to be sent to the gallows, or worse.

No doubt she had heard of her niece’s latest mistake .

‘Good evening, ma’am,’ Xavier said, bowing.

‘Your Grace.’ Her voice was barely audible. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure? I believe my butler informed you my niece is not at home.’

‘Do you know where she is? I wish to speak to her.’

Startled, she stared at him.

Xavier reined in his impatience. He did not want to scare the poor lady out of her wits. He wanted answers.

Miss Lowell adjusted her shawl as if trying to decide what to tell him. ‘She went to a house party in Greenwich, with her brother-in-law, the Count of Lipsweiger and Upsal. I do not know when she will return. She planned to stay the night.’ The words came out in a breathless rush.

He frowned. After all the Count had said about his widowed sister-in-law and the way he had participated in her ruin, why had the man taken her off to Greenwich?

‘A house party?’

‘At the home of a— Hmm… Let me think. It was no t someone I know, but Barbara was determined to attend. The strange thing is, no one else I have spoken to seemed to have received an invitation. I wondered if I had made a mistake letting her go. Her father will be very annoyed if so.’

He could not imagine this frail little spinster being able to stop Barbara doing anything once her mind was made up.

No one could.

‘Can you recall who it was?’ Was he mad? Did he think to follow her like some mooncalf? Just because he had the strange sensation that something wasn’t right. Simply to make sure she was safe.

It would be an idiotic thing to do. The sort of thing his father had done. And the sort of thing that had got his father killed.

But the thought of doing nothing, of leaving Barbara to her own devices, was untenable.

For once he had a strong feeling of sympathy for his father, if the man had felt half as strongly about his wife as Xavier did about Barbara.

It was a madness he couldn’t seem to quell.

‘I am trying to think, Your Grace.’

Xavier bit back his impatience. ‘Take your time.’

The carriage pulled to a halt and Charles opened the door.

When she got out, Barbara was surprised there weren’t any carriages in the imposing circle in front of the house.

There was a light at the front door, but it seemed rather too quiet. And no one came out to meet them.

‘Are we here on the right day?’ she asked.

Charles took her arm. ‘I think perhaps we are a little early.’

It was past nine, but then some parties did not start until eleven. She tried to recall the time on the invitation.

‘I hope Lady Wells isn’t put out, if so.’