Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

H azel took a seat at the back of Lady Plummer's drawing room hoping no one had noted her late arrival…or her presence at all. This particular gathering, a lecture by the esteemed Lord Duncan accompanied by lukewarm tea and biscuits, was not in support of Widows of Fallen Heroes but an orphanage. A new cause Hazel was championing. She hadn't been welcomed, exactly, without the presence of Lady Talbot at her side, but her purse had been. All charities needed donations. This organization had the added benefit that Lady Leek was not one of the ladies involved.

A month had passed since that disastrous house party, the gathering which had served as a reminder that letting down her guard held consequences. She would never be anything but a fat purse in skirts. But she refused to wallow in self-pity. Indeed, she was grateful to have escaped unscathed.

Mostly.

Hazel wobbled on her perch. She slid a hand along the arm of the chair to steady herself.

She didn't mean to avoid Widows of Fallen Heroes, her favorite charity, forever. Nor would she avoid Maria upon her return to London. Her friend was still entertaining Lord Balwyn in the country and, from the two letters Hazel had received, rather blissful.

Plucking at her skirts, she resettled on the chair.

She was happy for her friend. Truly. It was only that she missed Maria. Hazel had never taken into account what it would be like to brave these charitable functions without the support of Maria. She often sat alone, listening to the other women gossip amongst themselves. The news of August's financial circumstances was met with little surprise in the ton , though a great many delighted in his poverty. Comeuppance, it was claimed, for past sins, of which, apparently, there were many. But no one reviled him quite as fiercely as Garland had during the house party.

No matter his reputation, August was still a duke.

And for all of Hazel's assumption that society would cheerfully gossip about her, she was disappointed to find no one really believed the Duke of Courtland would have lowered himself to wed Hazel Dartmont. Slightly insulting, but true. If anything, Hazel was considered a somewhat dull amusement for a duke who had once been a libertine. Something to pass the time at a house party before he offered for the splendid Lady Coraline.

Quite a sting to Hazel's ego.

She'd seen Garland moping about Bond Street but refrained from speaking to him. Hazel still suspected him of having sent the newssheet to her, but if that was the case, he had gained nothing from it. London was humming with the news that the Duke of Courtland meant to offer for Lady Coraline any day now.

Hazel clasped her hands in her lap, determined to push thoughts of August, Lady Coraline, and the house party from her mind, for all the good it would do her. If August didn't invade her thoughts at this stupid lecture, he was bound to do so tonight. She dreamt of him often, dragging her wet and slick out of the sea. How beautiful he'd been that day on the beach, naked with the sunlight gilding the sculpted lines of his body.

I don't wish us to be apart.

After such a dream, Hazel's heart would constrict terribly. August's intentions may have started dishonestly, but in the end, he'd changed. Maybe. Believing it to be true was another matter. The tears would inevitably stream down her face as she tried to fall back asleep, part of her wishing August would call on her despite that terrible discussion. Whenever a carriage slowed outside her home, Hazel couldn't help hoping August would hop out.

Foolish. Stupid. Utterly ridiculous.

Nodding politely at the servant who brought tea while Lord Duncan took the podium, Hazel scanned the empty seats around her. Not surprising.

She took a sip of tea and added a bit of sugar, though she doubted anything would sweeten her mood. The only thing that surprised her was that August and Coraline weren't already happily betrothed.

Turning her attention to Lord Duncan, Hazel once more forced August aside. She didn't give a fig what he did with Coraline. Picking up the pamphlet on the table, she read that Lord Duncan was the preeminent authority on tombs and mummies. He'd lived in Egypt for several years. Explored a pyramid or two. Lord Duncan would be an interesting and diverting speaker. A call for donations would be held after his lecture.

Education was an excellent diversion.

When she'd first returned to London from Maria's house party, Hazel had sought every distraction she could to keep August from her thoughts. Uncle Roger's wedding plans, with which she was assisting, took up some of her time. She'd started a renovation of the gardens behind her house. Read a great many books, all informative. Attended a handful of charity teas, though without Lady Talbot at her side, she had not been invited to any additional social gatherings.

Just as well. She despaired of running into Lady Leek, or worse, August, with Lady Coraline dangling from his arm.

She gritted her teeth in frustration. Who cared if he carried Coraline about on his shoulders? Snapping the pamphlet open, Hazel was determined to listen to every word Lord Duncan spouted today. Maybe she'd take a trip to Egypt. See the mummies for herself. An unwed wealthy spinster could do that. Travel alone.

Her fingers curled atop her lap. She missed August. And didn't want to.

There was no helping it.

A rustle of skirts sounded beside her before a young lady took the chair to her left, accompanied by the scent of violets.

Hazel did not look up. Another late arrival who would be reluctant to make her acquaintance.

"Miss Dartmont." A clipped, precise tone addressed her.

Hazel looked up, lips tightening as she took in her fellow guest.

Lady Eliza Wade stuck out her dainty chin in challenge and smoothed down her skirts. There was a defiant glint in her eyes, which were not nearly as brilliant as August's but arresting all the same.

Hazel's hackles rose. Eliza had been the one to cozy up to Maria, purposefully. Ingratiating herself in order to receive an invitation to the house party Hazel would be attending. She'd been complicit in August's plans. Anger pricked her skin.

"I believe I'll find another seat." Hazel came to her feet.

"You will not, Miss Dartmont." There was steel in Eliza's tone, unmistakably ducal in nature. The same superior sound as August, which forbade any disobedience. "Sit down. I have things that must be said, and you will listen."

"I do not need to be dictated to by you, my lady."

"Sit, Miss Dartmont. I don't want to cause a scene, not when there are orphans and the like to be saved."

Hazel sat once more, pressing her lips together. Wasn't it enough she had to avoid Widows of Fallen Heroes, her pet charity? How dare August's cousin seek her here? Eliza probably didn't even care about orphans. Or Lord Duncan and his bloody mummies.

"As you wish, my lady," Hazel said in a bored tone and held up her pamphlet. "But do hurry. Lord Duncan is going to detail his exploration of a pyramid." She didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in her tone. "Which I think will be far more interesting."

"You'd be surprised," Eliza replied. "I wish to speak to you about my cousin." She kept her voice low.

"I can assure you I don't find that topic to be the least appealing, especially not when compared with Lord Duncan."

"Unfortunate." Eliza pinned her with a glare. "Nonetheless, you will listen."

Lady Eliza Wade had a great deal of arrogance. Must run in the family.

"I know you and August are previously acquainted."

"We are, so I can say with all surety that he has changed little from that superior, manipulative, greedy child." Her heart beat unevenly. August had apologized for his behavior in Pensford and alluded to the reason for it. The deaths of his parents and sister. Being sent to live with an uncle who didn't want him. Seemed unfair to use that against him now.

"Yes, he was all of nine. Imagine, holding a petty grievance for twenty years over a bit of mud and an unwelcome nickname."

Hazel didn't care for how that made her sound…ridiculous. "I am justified in my regard."

"Your exceptionally low opinion of the duke also extends to anyone who is part of society. Which begs the question; why you continue to further your acquaintance with Lady Talbot when clearly you don't care for women of her ilk? Though your aversion to peers didn't cause you to avoid Garland at the house party. Or Everhurst."

"Jealous, my lady?"

Eliza's fingers curled in her lap. "I'm surprised your repugnance for all of us doesn't send you fleeing back to Bristol, but here you are. In the thick of things."

In addition to her arrogance, Eliza was condescending.

"You've no idea what it is like to be wanted solely for your wealth and little else," Hazel spat out in a near whisper.

"I'm the daughter of a duke." Eliza choked out a laugh. "Sought after for my bloodline, connections, and dowry. How could I possibly understand?"

Now Eliza was merely being petty.

"You think I'm foolish because I want to be wed for more than my fortune," Hazel started. "That it would be an honor for me to prop up a fading title, given I started life as a draper's daughter. A title and estate which some lord, or in this case duke , through his own selfish pursuits, has bankrupted. It is not my duty to save him. Or you, as the case may be."

Eliza eyed her with dislike. "I think you are foolish because you cannot see beyond that." She made a dismissive gesture with one hand as her lips drew taut. "I was warned of your contrary nature, and I did not take it to heart."

"By the duke?"

"Lady Talbot, actually. Though I'm certain I could ask any number of people and receive the same response. You are incredibly unpleasant. I would like to apprise you of a few facts, Miss Dartmont. You might find me more interesting than Lord Duncan."

Hazel rolled her eyes, conscious of the fact she was behaving with incredible rudeness. But Eliza pulled at her skin in a most disagreeable way.

"August never wanted the title, Miss Dartmont. Or the responsibility that comes with it." She sighed. "Oh, I realize you think dukes merely putter around and order others about, but that isn't always the case. My brother, Edward, spent a great deal of time destroying the estate while August was off trying not to be killed." She hesitated for a moment, hands twisting in her lap. "Edward liked his brandy. His mistresses. And his horses. Not necessarily in that order. He also fancied himself as something of an investor in various businesses, though he lacked even a modest acumen for financial matters." Eliza looked away for a moment, perhaps recalling her brother before continuing.

"After bankrupting the estate, in a most spectacular manner, he decided drinking himself to death was preferable to facing the creditors. Alas, he choked on a fish bone instead. The responsibility of managing the estates, the lives of our tenants, and even me was far too much for him, I think. A coward, through and through."

August had inherited a bankrupt estate.

It changes nothing.

"I am sorry for your loss, Lady Eliza, however?—"

"My cousin had returned to London by this time. I won't deny that August was a rake, a rather terrible one. He seduced a great many women. Made enemies. Flaunted his amusements." A small laugh came from her. "After my brother's death, I found August in a brothel. Can you imagine? But by then, he was only amusing himself to blot out his…time away. The entire first few months after his return, he would suddenly stop and sniff the air, convinced he smelled gunpowder. I would find bits of paper strewn all over the study with the same list of names written, over and over. He sold his favorite horse and sent—" She bit off her words. "Well, that is his story to tell."

Hazel ached at knowing what August had endured, but she remained unmoved. "It does not justify his actions towards me."

Eliza gave her a hard look. "Don't you still believe my cousin did nothing but prance about in his uniform looking splendid? I am trying to inform you he did not."

"I know he did not," Hazel interrupted softly. "I've seen the scar."

"I'm sure the duke wishes that blade at Quatre Bras had taken his life." Eliza glared at her. "As you told him you wished it had." When Hazel tried to object, Eliza once more gave a dismissive wave. "I was in the garden that morning, Miss Dartmont. I spoke to August at breakfast just before we walked outside. He was happier than I've ever seen him. At peace. Over you. And not because of your fifty thousand pounds."

"I am not the villain, Lady Eliza."

"If you ever say such a thing to him again…" Eliza's voice shook. "That you wish he'd died because of your bruised feelings, I will use every connection still in my possession to ensure you are not welcomed in London, anywhere. No matter your wealth. Not even Lady Talbot will receive you."

Hazel sat back at the venom in Lady Eliza's tone.

"I advised August from the start that Lady Coraline would be the more suitable bride," Eliza stated bluntly. "My opinion has not changed."

Hazel looked Eliza in the eye as realization dawned. " You sent me the Rake Review. "

Eliza stared back, features perfectly composed, and said nothing.

She took a shaky breath. "Why are you here, my lady, given you have gone to great lengths to ensure your cousin weds Lady Coraline?"

"August refuses to abandon London for Windhaven, though he is needed at the estate. The marriage contract for Lady Coraline sits unsigned on his desk. He's drinking far too much," she swallowed. "Like Edward. And you are the cause."

Something coiled in Hazel's stomach, sliding about as if she'd eaten too much treacle. Longing for August. A sneaking suspicion she'd acted rashly in leaving the house party without at least allowing him to explain. With good reason but?—

I want to be with you until the end of my days.

Lady Eliza stood and looked down on her. "Let me be clear. I don't like you, Miss Dartmont, as you've likely surmised. You are far too judgmental to suit me. Obsessed with the fortune attached to your skirts so fiercely that you miss everything else. Frankly, I wish…" Her lips drew tight once more. "If you truly do not care…" she hesitated. "For August. If you cannot forgive him, I beg you make your feelings abundantly clear. Before Lord Leek changes his mind."

Hazel nodded dully, too surprised by Eliza's dislike and her own feelings. "Of course."

Lady Eliza shook her head at Hazel and sauntered off without a backward glance, skirts still bristling with disdain.

Once she was gone, Hazel picked up her cup and took a sip of the tea, barely noticing it had gone cold. Lord Duncan was going on about a sarcophagus inlaid with jewels, and she paid him no attention at all. Lady Eliza's visit had been unpleasant, to say the least. But she'd given Hazel much to consider. What had August said?

Why can't I want you and your fortune?

Hazel came to her feet and slowly made her way to the front door, uncaring what anyone thought of her leaving without having made a donation.