Page 17 of The Duke’s Scandal (Bluestocking Book Club #5)

Chapter Twelve

Earlier that same afternoon

A mos paced up and down the drawing room, pushing one hand and then the other through his hair. “You are telling me that Lady Clara blames me for the attack upon her person?”

Lord Galbraith nodded, watching him from where he sat, one hand playing about his mouth as if he did not want to say what he had to. “I am afraid so.”

“But how can that be?” Amos asked, stopping sharply and turning to look at his brother-in-law. “I did nothing wrong! I spoke with the lady, but did not once go near her. Nor did I advance upon her! Why should she say such a thing?”

With a sigh, Lord Galbraith lifted his shoulders. “Mistaken identity, mayhap? That is the only thing I can think.”

“It seems very strange to me that she would think to blame me when I was not anywhere near her,” Amos protested, beginning to pace again. “This is truly dreadful! Whatever am I to do?”

When he turned to look at Lord Galbraith, the hesitancy on the man’s face gave him pause. With a heaviness in his soul, Amos paused in his pacing for the second time and turned to face him. “What else is there?”

“I have heard a rumor or two,” Lord Galbraith told him, his words stumbling over each other just a little. “I do not know why this is being said or where it comes from, but stories are being spread through the ton . I say stories because they are entirely fictional!”

“What is being said?”

Lord Galbraith let out a hiss through his teeth, then looked away. “I heard these two things only last evening,” he said, not turning his gaze back towards Amos. “The first is that you are seeking a bride, but that she must have a vast dowry.”

“Dowry?” Amos repeated, a little confused. “Why should I need such a thing?”

“Because you are supposedly quite without funds,” Lord Galbraith told him, his eyebrows sitting low over his eyes, shadows dancing in his gaze. “You are impoverished, or so the ton have been told.”

Amos closed his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You are, evidently, a gambler without restraint. You have lost a great deal of your wealth to the card table and have spent your coin in establishments that are a little less than reputable.”

Horror struck, Amos sat down heavily, his whole being feeling heavy with the shock of what he had been told.

“This was only whispered about last evening, from what I can tell,” Lord Galbraith finished, sounding apologetic as though he regretted having to be truthful on such a weighty matter as this.

“I do not know where such a story has come from, and I certainly have not heard it before. I am sorry to have to tell you such a thing, my friend.”

Closing his eyes, Amos dropped his head forward, his chin on his chest. “Goodness. I do not know what to do.”

The silence that came from Lord Galbraith told Amos that his brother-in-law did not know what to advise either. Steadying his breathing, Amos kept his eyes shut as he clasped his hands in front of him, trying to ascertain what he ought to do next.

“I am sorry,” Lord Galbraith said again as if somehow this was his doing. “I know that none of what has been said of you is true, but the ton will cling to it, I am afraid.”

“I – I will be ruined.”

Lord Galbraith shut his eyes. “Your reputation may be stained, yes.”

“More than that!” Panic gripped him. “This stain will spread through London, it will touch everyone that is connected with me!” Shoving both hands through his hair, he squeezed his eyes closed until they were almost painful. “My sister… my mother – even you, Galbraith.”

His brother-in-law sighed. “The ton are relentless.”

“I must fight this.” Opening his eyes, he looked straight back at Lord Galbraith, his breathing uneven. “I cannot have them think such dreadful things of me!”

Lord Galbraith spread out his hands. “What can you do? You could speak to Lady Clara, but I doubt she will have much to say to you.” His eyebrows lifted. “There may even be whispers of matrimony if you are not careful.”

Fear tore through Amos. “I cannot marry her.”

“I am not saying you will have to, but you must be cautious, my friend. ”

Swallowing at the ache in his throat, Amos tried to think clearly. In a single instant, his life had been darkened by shadows, threats pulling in towards him. He had done nothing wrong and yet, for some unbeknownst reason, falsehoods were being whispered about him.

And what will Lady Isobella think of me?

Her face swam in front of his closed eyes, and he caught his breath, a sudden realization of what his connection to Lady Isobella might now look like, once she heard of the rumors.

Would she believe them? Would she turn away from him?

As yet, he had not managed to discuss with her his desire to come to take tea but mayhap that was all nothing but smoke now!

His head lifted. “I must speak with her.”

“With whom?” Lord Galbraith frowned. “Lady Clara?”

“No, no.” Amos rose to his feet, beginning to pace again as he thought. “I must speak to Lady Isobella.”

Lord Galbraith’s shoulders slumped. “You fear that she will reject you because of this.”

“Yes, but she is also a bluestocking,” Amos said, turning to face him. “She told me that she and her friends have worked to find out the truth in some other difficult situations. Why should I not ask her to assist me in this?”

Lord Galbraith ran one hand over his chin. “You are going to ask bluestockings to help you?”

“Why should I not? I can do nothing myself, and if there is someone spreading rumors about me, then I must learn who it is!” With a nod to his brother-in-law, Amos hurried towards the door. “And I must go now.”

It was not until the following day that Amos had his desperate wish.

The response from Lady Isobella had been encouraging, but being forced to wait until the following afternoon had been difficult.

He had not slept well and had fought through frustration and upset before finally managing to sleep for an hour or two.

Now, however, as he waited for Lord Waverley’s carriage, Amos felt himself more awake than ever.

His mind had not stopped spinning, his thoughts rushing from one side of his mind to the other ever since Lord Galbraith had told him what society believed of him.

“Lord Waverley, Miss Trentworth.” Climbing into the carriage, Amos sat down beside Lord Waverley, relief pouring into him at their gentle expressions. “I cannot find enough words to thank you for all you are doing for me.”

“But of course, Your Grace.” Miss Trentworth offered him a warm smile as the carriage pulled away. “You must be very distressed, I am sure.”

Even this remark gave Amos hope. “You believe me, then?”

“Of course.” Lord Waverley was the one to speak, looking at Amos with a steady gaze. “We are all very aware of the power the ton has. The only question, I suppose, is why someone has turned on you in such a way.”

Amos nodded, a knot in his throat. “Quite.”

“Lady Isobella was very eager to speak with you,” Miss Trentworth continued, as the carriage rumbled on. “She was glad to receive your note, I think.”

Yet more relief swamped Amos, taking away a good deal of anxiety from his heart.

He had been concerned that, despite his note to her and her response to him, there would still be some sort of distrust between them.

“I wanted to write to her because I knew she – and yourself also, Miss Trentworth – had solved some difficulties for others.”

Miss Trentworth nodded. “ Yes, we have.”

“The bluestocking book club,” Lord Waverley replied, with a chuckle. “That was how I first met Miss Trentworth.”

“Oh?”

There was no time for them to explain further, for the carriage began to pull to a stop.

Amos’ heart practically launched itself out of his chest as the door opened and, after only a moment, Lady Isobella climbed inside.

She glanced at him as she sat down, a somewhat uncertain smile brushing her lips.

“Good afternoon to you all.” Clearing her throat, she settled her hands on her lap as the carriage continued. “Lady Amelia is waiting in the carriage for me, but I cannot be long.”

Lord Waverley chuckled, lightening the tension that Amos felt sparking between himself and Lady Isobella. “This is all very covert, is it not? I feel as though I ought to be taking some sort of secret to the Crown!”

“It is a little, yes,” Lady Isobella said, with a wry smile. “But it must be this way.”

“I am sorry for that,” Amos began, only for Lady Isobella to shake her head.

“No, there is nothing for you to apologize for, Your Grace. Now, please.” She sat a little further forward, her hands still clasped in front of her. “Tell us all.”

Amos swallowed thickly, trying not to become distracted by the beauty of the lady.

“Last evening, I was at the ball. I was looking for you, in fact, but went out into the gardens to see if you were there.” He continued, telling them about the conversations that had stopped him, then the sound that had concerned him.

“And you say that when you went back to find Lady Deborah and Lady Victoria, they were not there?” Lady Isobell asked, as Amos nodded. “They were gone inside, then?”

“Which did seem a little strange to me, given that they were so very concerned about the noise we had heard – well, Lady Victoria was. Lady Deborah dismissed it.”

Miss Trentworth frowned. “Strangely, they all hurried inside, but mayhap they were distracted by Lady Clara and the commotion there.”

“If we spoke to them, would they be able to confirm that you were nowhere near Lady Clara?” Hope filled Lady Isobella’s face, but Amos shook his head, dimming it instantly.

“They would be able to say where I was gone, but would not be able to confirm I had not gone back towards Lady Clara.” He grimaced. “Unfortunately, the darkness conceals a good many things.”

Lord Waverley snorted. “Indeed it does. In this case, it appears to have hidden the true perpetrator, for someone pursued Lady Clara and upset her, and then, for whatever reason, made her believe they were you!”

Releasing a slow breath, Amos looked from one face to the next. “Is that what you all think?”

Lady Isobella tilted her head just a fraction. “Are you trying to ask if we believe you, Your Grace?”

He nodded, his chest tightening.

“We do,” she said quickly, reassurance in her smile. “I knew when I heard it that it could not be the truth. What I knew of your character spoke against that.”

“And I am not impoverished either,” Amos found himself saying, wanting her to believe that he was solvent and did not require a large dowry. “There have been other whispers about me also, it seems, but none of them are true either! ”

Lady Isobella nodded but pulled her lips to one side, looking away from him and instead, out of the window, which had the curtain pulled, save for only one small sliver of light.

Amos’ heart began to thud wildly, hoping that one of them would have some notion as to what he ought to do next.

He did not want his reputation to be ruined, and he certainly did not want the ton to think that he was a cruel, arrogant gentleman who did as he pleased.

That sort of stain could ruin his name for generations.

“We must find out the truth.” Lady Isobella took another moment, then turned to look Amos straight in the eye as the carriage continued on.

“If everything you have told us is true, Your Grace, then the bluestockings will, I know, do all they can to reveal the truth not only to yourself but to society.”

A tightness came into Amos’ throat. “It is the truth,” he said, trying to speak firmly but finding his heart aching with the confusion and the struggle that had come with these accusations.

“I do not want the ton to believe me capable of such a thing! They will reject me, and even if I marry, even if I have an heir to this Dukedom, will not my son hear these whispers about me still? Will not my mother and sister be forced to endure it all?”

Lady Isobella did not look away from him. Her eyes held to his, a calmness there which centered him, helped him to breathe a little more easily. The more he looked into her eyes, the easier it became to quieten the whirling thoughts in his mind, the fears about what should happen in the future.

“We will find out why Lady Clara said such a thing,” Lady Isobella told him firmly. “We will discover who has been whispering about your impoverished state, about your need for money. We have done such things before, and I am certain we shall do so again.”

“You can have every confidence in the bluestockings,” Lord Waverley told him, slapping Amos on the back. “They are quite remarkable.”

“I believe it,” Amos answered, his voice a little hoarse. “Thank you, Lady Isobella. Thank you, Miss Trentworth – and please, pass my thanks on to the others. I am grateful, truly. More than you can know.”