Page 3 of The Duchess and the Beast
A deep breath had Virtue steadying. Then she forced a smile, focused on Lord Tarrow – who was observing her with a sense of want she found wholly appealing – and started toward him. She was doing it. She was taking action. She was leaving the past where it belonged and carving herself a new path. Soon, what had happened to her would be forgotten. Soon, she would be a new woman with a new name.
And that was about the moment everything went wrong.
Just behind Lord Tarrow, with a drink in his hand, a curious smile on his face as he watched her approach the eager young lord, was a man whom Virtue had been hoping to avoid tonight, one whom she presumed wasn’t attending, one whom she knew that if she saw—well, it had the potential to ruin her entire evening and then some.
His name was Lord Prescott, and until three months ago, he had been Virtue’s betrothed.
Indeed, no sooner did Virtue see Lord Prescott, their eyes connecting across the room, did she forget all about Lord Tarrow and what she was doing as that sudden desire to escape andremain hidden took hold. Her chest tightened. Her body grew red hot. The room spun about her. Eyes widening as if from fear, she turned on the spot suddenly, meaning to run, only to find herself face to face with Prudence.
“What are you – oh!” Prudence cried as Virtue ran headlong into her.
Their bodies collided with a tremendous crash. Prudence stumbled backward, arms flailing. She caught the edge of a footman’s wine tray, sending the glasses of wine flying into the air as their reddish-purple contents emptied all over her dress.
Virtue tried to help, but as the glasses of wine smashed around her feet, she slipped and stumbled, again falling into Prudence, grabbing a hold of the woman around the shoulders, losing her balance entirely, and falling to the floor in a heap. Oh, and of course, with another loud crash—enough to alert the entirety of London.
The music that played throughout the hall silenced in an instant. The gossip and chatter and banter that filled the cheeks of the guests stopped dead as if it had never been. All eyes, what had to be hundreds of them, turned as one and looked upon Prudence and Virtue lying on the floor, covered in wine, dresses torn, embarrassment piqued. A beat, the silence, and shock so heavy that Virtue could feel it, broken when someone began to snicker.
Laughter erupted from the mouths of a few of the immature young Lords. Raucous and bawdy. Fingers pointed. Bodies doubled over as sides were held to keep them from splitting.
“You…. how could you!” Prudence cried. “What have you done!”
“I… I didn’t… I did not mean…” Virtue stammered, unable to form a cohesive thought as the laughter and jesting and mockery crashed upon her like relentless waves.
Just three months ago, Virtue had been subjected to a kind of embarrassment that she was certain would be the worst of her entire life. Yet tonight, this very moment might well have surpassed that.
Drenched in wine. Bottom bruised. The center of attention in the worst possible way. Forget seeking a new suitor, Virtue thought as she covered her face and tried to stand – only to slip and fall once more. After tonight, she might never go out again. And who could blame her?
CHAPTER TWO
2 DAYS LATER
Hartleigh House
“Pray, tell me you intend to at least promenade today,” Lucy Reid sighed as she swept into the library. “At the very least, might you step onto the patio or wander through the garden, so that your skin might see some sunlight?”
“To utter falsehoods is a sin,” Virtue responded without diverting her gaze from the volume in her lap. “And I shall not partake in such deceit.”
“Is this the grand design then?” Lucy came to a stop right by where Virtue was sitting; curled up on a plush settee, the drapes pulled shut to cast the room in a shadow and using the light from a small candle to illuminate the pages. “To sequester yourself within these walls for eternity? Truly?”
“I don’t see whyever not.” Virtue turned the page, purposefully ignoring the young maid. If it had been anyone other than Lucy making such remarks, Virtue might have taken offense, but she and Lucy were as close as sisters since her father had taken Lucy under his wing upon the death of old Jonathan Reid, Lucy’s father and the Hartleigh family butler for nearly thirty years. When they were alone, Virtue would not have Lucy speaking to her in any other way.
“And what of the future? When age has stolen your vitality and left you old and withered—do you then plan to grace the rest of London with your presence again? Hope that by then, everyone might have forgotten what happened and you shall be free to spend your final years an old crone whose memory is so soured that she scarcely remembers the reason she locked herself up in the first place?”
“It could be worse.” She turned a page.
“Oh, you’re being ridiculous, V! Utterly and totally absurd, is what you are.”
“I must remind you...” she replied, nonchalantly flipping another page of her book, her eyes steadfastly avoiding Lucy's gaze, “with whom you are speaking with,MissReid. And if you keep at it, perhaps a harsher reminder will be necessary,” she added with a smirk.
Lucy snorted and folded her arms. “What will you do, then? Whip me,my Lady?”
“If I must,” Virtue giggled, the sound light and teasing.
Another snort. “It will change nothing. You will remain ensconced here, and I shall still be at your side, tirelessly working to coax you outdoors. Moreover, I suspect your father might agree with me this time.”
Virtue scrunched her nose as she tried her best to ignore Lucy’s provocations. If it was anyone else, it might have been a simple task. Despite the unconventional nature of their relationship, Lucy was her closest confidante—now more than ever, given her dwindling circle of friends following the recent scandal. Prudence, for one, would likely not be responding to her letters any time soon.
But she couldn’t ignore the maid’s heartfelt pleas either. Even the book she was reading, one of her favorite romance novels that she always turned to when she was feeling blue, couldn’t hold her interest. If anything, the romantic epic that once upon a time had her heart soaring whenever she read its pages, now only had it souring at what could no longer be hers.