Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"It seems a sensible idea. Being seen in public will quell any rumors about a possible split. Oh...I feel so sorry for you both. It was all supposed to be perfect, wasn't it?" Edmund's mother said, shaking her head.

Edmund nodded. He was feeling the weight of the burden he now carried—the burden of his own duty, and that of protecting Johanna, too. He could not believe the depths Lavinia had stooped to, urged on by her equally vindictive mother. On the night of the masquerade, when Wilhelmina had come running to inform him of the indiscretion, he had immediately suspected something was not right, and he had not for a moment believed Johanna to be involved in an indiscretion. But what had happened as a result was almost as bad…

"Well...yes, though not at first," Edmund admitted.

He had not been entirely honest with his mother as to the nature of the marriage—his haste in proposing, and Johanna's haste in accepting. His mother looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as she spoke.

"What I mean is...well, there was the suggestion our meeting in the woods on the day of the accident was improper. We were seen by the Parker sisters. I knew they'd behave in just the same way Lavinia and her mother are behaving now. That's why I asked Johanna to marry me. I knew you were coming from London to help facilitate a match, and I preempted you, as did Johanna with her own parents. It was a convenience," Edmund admitted.

He was glad to finally unburden himself, even as his mother now rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Edmund, really...what do you think I am? I only wanted you to be happy, and you weren't doing very much about making it so yourself. But...is it still a matter of convenience?" she asked, and Edmund shook his head.

On that matter, he felt certain. Any sense of an arrangement was now forgotten. Had the relationship between him and Johanna remained a matter of convenience, he would have quietly separated from her. But with his feelings for her growing stronger by the moment, any thought of their parting ways was anathema. He had fallen in love with her, and he had no intention of taking the easy way out.

"No, Mother. Not at all. I love her. I love her more than I can say. What happened at the masquerade was cruel and unnecessary. I still can't believe Lavinia would sink so low. What she did was wicked," he said.

His mother smiled at him.

"You speak with a conviction of the heart, Edmund. And I'm sorry if you thought I was being overbearing. I haven't found things easy since your father died. Not that we got on very well—ours was hardly a model marriage. But there was stability there, and he was too dull to ever think about taking a mistress. I miss him, Edmund, and I suppose perhaps I've thrown myself too readily into other people's lives—yours, especially," she said, brushing a tear from her eye.

Edmund stepped forward and put his arms around her. He had not meant to upset her, and he had not realized the extent of her hurt over the death of his father.

"It's all right, Mother. I'm sorry, too. But it all turned all right, didn't it? You've got the daughter you always wanted in Johanna," he said, and his mother smiled as Edmund kissed her on the cheek and stepped back.

"Yes, you're quite right. Johanna's a delight. I feel so sorry for you both, I really do. As long as you're certain, Edmund," she said.

But Edmund was certain. He had never been more certain of anything in all his life. It was true he had had his doubts, and in the days before the wedding, he had seriously questioned whether he was doing the right thing. The very idea of the proposal, its implications...there had been so much to come to terms with. But all of that paled into insignificance when he thought of Johanna and what she had come to mean to him. He had fallen in love with her, and the cruel circumstances of the masquerade ball had only served to make those feelings grow stronger.

"I am, Mother. I promise," he said, and now it was her turn to kiss him on the cheek and slip her hand into his.

"Very well, let's see to it the ton realize, too," she replied.

***

"We should walk the full length of the avenue—that's where we'll be seen," Johanna said as she and Edmund climbed down from their carriage at the entrance to Hyde Park.

It was a beautiful day—bright and sunny—perfect for promenading and being seen. Around them, fashionably dressed men and women were doing just the same, walking arm in arm, talking and laughing with one another. Tabitha and Roger had just arrived in separate carriages, and along with the dowager, they were to make up a picnicking party on a grassy spot close to the Serpentine. The servants had been sent ahead, and it was intended for Johanna and Edmund to walk across the park in order to be seen by as many people as possible.

"And with our heads held high. We've got nothing to be ashamed of," Edmund replied.

"I'll walk a few steps behind—you two go ahead," Edmund's mother said, and the party now set off with Roger and Tabitha leading the way.

"At least one good thing's come out of this—Roger and Tabitha," Johanna whispered, smiling at the sight of the couple laughing with one another as they walked arm in arm.

Edmund smiled.

"Yes, I'm glad of that. Your brother had designs on Lavinia, but it seems he's realized the error of his ways," he said, and Johanna nodded.

She and Edmund were walking arm in arm, and now she realized their presence was being commented on. Whispered remarks were being made as they passed, and other couples were stopping to watch. It was just what they had hoped for, as unnerving as it was to experience.

"I think it's working," Johanna said as they passed a couple she recognized from a ball they had attended some weeks previously.

"The Earl and Countess of Beaumont—I thought they were to separate after the scandal at the masquerade. But they look perfectly contented to me," Johanna heard one woman whisper to her husband.

Walking on along the avenue, Johanna heard similar whispers, and with so many people having so obviously noticed them, she felt certain news of their happy marriage would soon spread around the ton. She was grateful to Tabitha for suggesting the idea of the promenade, and as they arrived at the spot for the picnic—beneath a weeping willow tree next to the Serpentine—it felt to Johanna as though a burden had been lifted from her. No one could possibly think there was anything untoward in her relationship with the earl—with her husband.

"I think we've convinced them. Don't you?" Edmund said as they sat down at the table the servants had set out for them.

The dowager had arranged an elaborate picnic—cold chicken, cold tongue, a raised pie filled with game, a side of Stilton and other cheeses, bread and butter, dried fruits and sweetmeats, an apple pie, and to drink, lemonade and ginger beer. It was served on an elaborately set table, with fine china and glassware, silver cutlery, and napkins. Johanna was now feeling optimistic. She and Edmund had been seen together, and no one could possibly doubt they were not the happily married couple they truly were. Whatever the rumors about her might be, Johanna hoped those who had seen them would soon dispel the false accusations with an account of what they had seen.

"I'm sure of it, yes. It was a good idea of yours, Tabitha," Johanna said, glancing across at her friend, who now looked up from her conversation with Roger and smiled.

"I told you it would work. All those busybodies who saw you—they'll delight in telling the rest of the ton Lavinia was wrong," Tabitha said.

There was a confidence in her tone, and Roger, too, now nodded.

"Tabitha's right, Johanna. You don't need to worry. Now, let's enjoy this wonderful picnic together, shall we?" he said, raising a glass of lemonade to the dowager, who smiled and did the same.

Johanna had been relieved to hear from her brother the previous day. Roger had told her he did not believe a word Lavinia was saying, and that he had cut all ties with her. More importantly, he had assured Johanna he would do all he could to defend her if news of the apparent indiscretion should reach the ears of their parents. Johanna had feared as much, and she had been dreading the arrival of an angry letter from her mother, telling her she had disgraced herself in the eyes of society and brought shame on the family. But no such letter had yet arrived, and Johanna could only hope her mother either did not know or knew better than to believe hearsay and rumor.

"Do you think it'll all just die down now?" Johanna asked as Edmund cut a slice of the game pie for her.

"I don't know—we're not out of the woods yet, I don't think. It could be said we're merely putting on an appearance. But others can believe what they want, Johanna. We know the truth. And that's what matters," Edmund replied.

Johanna was grateful to him for his words—for accepting the truth as truth, and not believing some twisted version of events. He could so easily have cast her aside, dismissing her on the grounds of her infidelity. He would have been entirely in his rights to do so. But he had not. He had stuck by her, and more so than that, their relationship had deepened as a result. Johanna was under no doubt as to how she felt. She loved him, and in his actions and his words, he had proved his love for her, too.

"Exactly, we don't need anything more…" Johanna replied, but she was interrupted by the shrill voice of a woman behind her, who now addressed the dowager.

"Ah, Lady Beaumont. How nice to see you. I'm glad we've bumped into one another. It saves me from writing to you," the woman—an elderly woman dressed in a green dress with a matching shawl around her shoulders, accompanied by her husband—said as Edmund's mother now rose to her feet.

"Lady Porter, how nice to see you, too," she said, addressing the woman, who nodded.

"Yes. I just wanted to let you know we'll be unable to accept the invitation to the Beaumont Dinner this year. I presume you'll be distributing them soon," she said, looking pointedly at Edmund's mother, who now looked embarrassed.

"Ah, well, there's been some question as to whether we hold the dinner or not," she replied, and the woman nodded.

"Yes, I fully understand," she said, glancing disapprovingly in Johanna's direction.

Johanna now understood what was happening, and it pained her to think the family's reputation should suffer because of Lavinia's rumors concerning her. She wanted to protest, but before she could do so, Edmund had risen to his feet.

"But if we do decide to issue invitations to the dinner, I'll be sure not to include one to you, Lady Porter. That way, you won't have to waste time refusing it," he said, glaring at the woman who now harumphed and stuck her nose into the air.

"Good day to you," she said, turning and beckoning her husband to follow her.

The dowager sat down at the table with a sigh and shook her head.

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry…" Johanna said, but Edmund patted her hand and gave her a reassuring smile.

"It's all right. It's not your fault. But it seems we'll have to do more if we're to convince the ton as to the sincerity of our denial and the truth of the facts," he said.

Johanna's heart sank. She had hoped this was the beginning of the end—that they had quelled the rumors before they took hold. But Lady Porter's words had proved otherwise, and Johanna could not help but feel sorry for the dowager, who it seemed was also to suffer the humiliation of rejection for her association with Johanna and Edmund.

"How terrible—what a cruel thing to do," the dowager said.

There were tears in her eyes, and despite Edmund's reassurances, Johanna could not help but feel guilty for the part she had played. The Beaumont Dinner meant a great deal to the dowager, and for it to be canceled—snubbed, even—was surely a bitter blow. The damage to the family's reputation would be irreparable, and if something was not done to quash the rumors once and for all, they would only persist.

"We must do something to expose Lavinia's plans. We all know she was lying, but there must be some way of proving it. Where does Lord Fitzroy fit into all of this?" Johanna asked.

She had been pondering the matter ever since the night of the masquerade. Wilhelmina's involvement was obvious, and Lavinia believed she stood to gain everything her jealous nature had desired. But what of the man in the mask? What had Lord Fitzroy gained from impersonating Edmund? He had received a punch on the nose for it, and for all the trouble he had gone to, Johanna had not even as much as kissed him, let alone fallen into deeper scandal with him.

"Johanna's right—the answer must lie with him. If Lavinia gave him something—paid him, or bribed him in some way—perhaps it can be revealed," Roger said.

Edmund looked thoughtful. The high spirits of earlier were now replaced with dejection. Tabitha shook her head and sighed.

"But he's hardly going to admit it, is he? He's the sort of man who tosses women aside without any regard for their reputation. He's had his fun, and it won't matter to him how many lives he's ruined in the process or how many reputations he's damaged," she said.

Johanna felt despairing.

"It's to do with money. She must've promised him something—a sum of money in exchange for doing what he did. Perhaps Lavinia even suggested he could marry you if...well, if I was to annul the marriage," Edmund said.

"But it needs to be proved," Roger persisted.

"Yes, and it will be. I'll go and speak to him myself. That's the only way to resolve the matter. To hear it from the horse's mouth, so to speak," Edmund replied.

Johanna looked at him in horror. He would only be opening himself up to further humiliation. Lord Fitzroy was surely angry with Edmund, and if the two of them were to fight, and word got out…

"No, Edmund, you can't!" she exclaimed, taking his hand in hers.

"This can't go on, Johanna. Your brother's right. The answer lies with Lord Fitzroy. It's money he wants, and I'm certain Lavinia's got him in her pay. But we can be cleverer than that," Edmund said as now a smile came over his face.

"But what do you mean?" Johanna asked, and Edmund now beckoned all of them to lean forward.

"We're going to hold the Beaumont Dinner, come what may. But we're going to use it to our own advantage," he said as he outlined his plan…