Page 20 of The Duke’s Reluctant Muse (The Untamed Nobles #3)
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Dennington. I have no wish to.”
“But you must.” Her brother came closer to her, taking her hands. “I am afraid to say, though I can understand your reluctance to step out into society at this present time, we have already accepted Lord Allington’s invitation and must, therefore, be present. It would be bad form not to stay there for even a short time.”
“I understand that but I do not think I can.” Elizabeth closed her eyes against the torrent of tears that threatened to be released. “The Duke has not written to me nor has he come to call and it was three days ago since I confessed the truth to him!”
Lord Dennington’s jaw tightened. “I know that things have not been pleasant for you in that regard, Elizabeth, and if you would have let me, then I might have gone to speak to him myself about it all! But you would not permit it.”
Elizabeth shook her head. Her brother, evidently seeing her distress over what had happened between the Duke and herself, had suggested that he go to explain his part and his thinking to the Duke of Nottingham but Elizabeth had not permitted him to do so. She had not wanted it, not when the Duke had said that he needed time to consider all that had been revealed to him. This, in addition to what she had told him of Lady Ludlow must have been a heavy weight upon his mind and Elizabeth had chosen not to push herself forward – nor to permit her brother to do the same.
“Please, Elizabeth.” Lowering his head just a little, Lord Dennington looked into her eyes. “You cannot simply stay at home and wait. You must step out into society again and, truth be told, we cannot refuse to attend this ball either. The Marquess of Allington is not a gentleman to be insulted and even though you have good reason to stay back from the evening, he will not see it in that light. Instead, he will be affronted and I cannot have him speak badly of you. It would set your standing in very poor light and surely you cannot want that!”
Closing her eyes, Elizabeth felt the pressure of tears against her lashes but she did not let them fall. Her brother was doing his level best to be of assistance to her, she knew, but he also brought a pressure to bear that she struggled hard against. She could understand why he was asking her to attend but the last thing she wanted to do was to be amongst the beau monde .
“We will only stay for an hour,” she heard him say, finally finding the strength to open her eyes. “I promise you that. So long as Lord Allington sees our arrival, then all will be well.”
She did not really have a choice in the matter, Elizabeth realized. Her brother desired it and had every right to demand her attendance, if he so wished, though that was not what he was doing. With a small nod, her shoulders rounded and a fresh wave of tears began to crush her, though she did not permit a single drop of moisture to fall.
“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Her brother grasped her shoulders as she looked up at him. “I can see how painful this is for you and I assure you, I have not asked this of you without consideration.”
“I know.”
“And if the Duke does not write to you or call by tomorrow, then I will go to see him,” he said, firmly. “You are in great torment and I cannot simply stand aside and see you suffer.”
Elizabeth tried to say that she did not need him to, had no desire for him to do such a thing but instead, all of the tears she had been holding back came bursting out. A hiccoughing sob broke through her defences and she began to cry, hard. Her brother held her tightly, murmuring soft encouragements and though they were a balm to her, they did nothing to heal the pain in her heart.
It is because I am in love with the Duke. Her sobs grew all the harder as she recognized that the pain that tore at her every single day was not merely because of the Duke’s absence, it was because the very gentleman that her heart yearned for had seemingly stepped away… and might never return to her again.
***
“Good evening, Miss Jeffries. Are you not to dance this evening?”
“Good evening, Lord Dalton.” Elizabeth managed a smile as Lord Dalton nodded to her brother. “I shall dance, so long as the dance is fairly soon for I do not intend to stay too long.”
Lord Dalton nodded, his eyes searching hers as though to seek out some sort of understanding. His hand reached out for her dance card and Elizabeth gave it, hoping that one dance would satisfy her requirements for the evening.
“I hear that you are now courting Miss Glendale.” Lord Dennington interrupted Elizabeth’s conversation with Lord Dalton. “I do hope all is going well.”
“Indeed, it is.” Lord Dalton winced, his expression rather surprising given what he had just said. “I fear that I may have been a little hasty in some of my determinations earlier this Season – some of which I shared with the Duke also. Miss Glendale has shown me that I was quite wrong in my thoughts and considerations.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Might I ask what it was that you said?” She recalled that the Duke had written in one or two of his letters about such a thing but could not recall the specifics. “I do hope it was nothing too terrible!”
Lord Dalton chuckled ruefully. “I think I stated that all young ladies were just as untrustworthy as the particular young lady that I had, at the time, most recently been drawn to. I told the Duke that he ought to be careful, that every young lady he met was hiding something of her character from him. Now, however, I have learned that a young lady can be just as she seems to be, that she can have no secrets whatsoever and be just as trustworthy as I might wish her to be. Miss Glendale has shown me that and I now feel myself a little embarrassed that I ever thought or said such a thing to anyone!”
“Yes, I remember now.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, missing the heavy frown that pulled at Lord Dalton’s expression. “But you are quite right, Lord Dalton, there are many young ladies who can be utterly trustworthy.” Opening her eyes, she gave him a smile while at the same time, feeling a wrenching of her soul. “I am glad that Miss Glendale has shown that to you.”
“Elizabeth? Thank goodness I have found you!”
She turned, just as Lady Annette grasped her arm, pulling her away from Lord Dalton who, with a nod of seeming understanding, handed Elizabeth her dance card and then stepped away.
“Dennington?” Lady Annette grabbed his arm, her face white. “You must help! I have heard the most dreadful rumour about the Duke and it must be stopped!”
Fear clutched at Elizabeth’s heart. “Rumour?”
“I know that I am meant to be staying far from gossip and believe me, I am not speaking of what I have heard on any occasion to anyone – aside from you, of course – but this is something that could do the Duke a great deal of damage! And… and you also.” She swallowed hard, her eyes fixing to Elizabeth.
“To me?” Elizabeth’s stomach dropped as her eyes then turned to her brother. “What is it? Have you heard of anything, Dennington?”
Her brother shook his head. “No, I have not. What is it, Annette?”
Lady Annette took in a breath, her fingers still gripping Elizabeth’s arm tightly. “It is said – and I have heard it said here this evening – that the Duke of Nottingham is nothing but a rogue and a scoundrel. That instead of being the chaperone as he ought to have been, he has been seeking to… encourage the affections of particular young ladies in the hope of a dalliance. That he has no intention whatsoever of matrimony or the like but seeks only his own pleasure.”
Going cold all over, Elizabeth shuddered violently. Her entire future was suddenly shaken, her standing ruined by a rumor that, it seemed, was now quickly spreading around London.
“Your name has not been mentioned,” Lady Annette added, though the doubt in her voice made Elizabeth shake her head, aware that even though her name had not been said specifically, the ton would soon be able to recognize it.
“It does not need to be,” she whispered, opening her eyes to look to her brother. Lord Dennington was frowning, his cheeks flushed with a heat of anger but his mouth in a thin, tight line. He had said nothing but was, instead, simply gazing straight ahead of him as though somehow, amongst the crowded ballroom, he might find an answer.
Elizabeth’s heart quailed, dread seizing her as she tried to think about what they might do to counter the rumor. Her mind sought for an answer, tried desperately to find a solution but none came to her. Instead, there was only darkness and a growing sense of emptiness and fear – fear that her standing would be knocked to the ground and that she would be left with nothing.
And what would that mean for her brother and Lady Annette? If Elizabeth’s reputation was to be ruined, then that would touch upon her brother’s good name also, would it not? Which meant that Lady Annette’s brother, even with his complete lack of consideration for his sister, might be unwilling to let the match go ahead for fear of what it would do to his own family’s reputation!
She warned me that I would be caught up in these difficulties, Elizabeth thought to herself, her head dropping low, her eyes squeezing closed. And I did not let her threats frighten me. But now, now that I am in this darkness, I tremble.
“My hearty congratulations to you!”
Still reeling from what Lady Annette had told her, Elizabeth turned just as a large group of ladies rushed towards her, with one gentleman reaching out to shake Lord Dennington’s hand.
“An excellent match, my friend, an excellent match.”
“Match?” Bewildered, Elizabeth glanced from Lady Annette to her brother. “Dennington, did you...?”
He shook his head no, just as the ladies descended upon Elizabeth.
“You are to be a Duchess?” one exclaimed, as Elizabeth reached out to grasp Lady Annette’s hand, seeking strength and support. “Goodness, how wonderful!”
“I knew those rumours must be quite wrong,” said another. “It was Lady Ludlow who told me, you know, and when I heard it from her lips, I was quite certain that she was either lying or confused. I will say it was the latter though I secretly believe that it was the former!” The lady giggled, one hand going to her mouth as Elizabeth, her breathing now quick and a little ragged, tried to make sense of all that was being said.
“It is all quite wonderful,” said another, as Lady Annette put one arm through Elizabeth’s, standing staunchly by her side. “I am sure you will be very happy indeed.”
“Of course she shall.” Mercifully, Lord Dennington came to rescue her, taking Elizabeth’s other arm and turning on his heel, leading her away. “If you would excuse me, ladies, I must take my sister for a short turn about the room so that many others can offer their congratulations. It is a momentous occasion, as I am sure you can all understand!”
“Of course, of course!” said a third, as Elizabeth was led away by her brother, feeling her legs shaking and her stomach twisting hard. “A wonderful match indeed!”
“What are they talking about?” she managed to say, as Lord Dennington led her out of the ballroom, Lady Annette still on her other side. “I do not understand.”
Lord Dennington grimaced, his jaw tight. “I cannot answer you fully, not until we find the Duke of Nottingham,” he said, darkly. “Either another rumour has been spread – a rather difficult one at that – or the Duke has decided that you are now betrothed. Either way, we must discover the truth – and quickly, before any more can be said.”
Feeling a little dizzy now, Elizabeth let herself be seated in a quiet parlor which had been set aside for those wishing a little respite from the noise of the ball. Lady Annette promised to sit with her as Lord Dennington went in search of the Duke – though Elizabeth could barely breathe, such was her astonishment.
Betrothed? Betrothed to the Duke of Nottingham? She lowered her head into her hands, feeling an ache beginning to form between her eyebrows. Everything had been difficult enough but now, in the space of only a few minutes, everything appeared to have become ten times worse.