Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

I t took only three days for the whispers to start circulating through the ton . Julia had been staying with her mother at her new home ever since her mother remarried and became the Countess of Ashworth. She split her time between her mother's house and her brother Colin's, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy. But on this particular morning, after finishing breakfast, a servant informed her that her mother requested her presence in the smaller drawing room.

A sense of dread settled in Julia's stomach as she made her way down the hallway. She had a sinking feeling that the news of her being alone with the Earl of Ashton behind a locked door had spread. When she entered the room, her heart dropped at the sight of her grandaunt.

Lady Celdon was sitting on the sofa, her spine rigid, her pale blue eyes narrowed in vibrant disapproval.

Julia mustered a smile and sank into a curtsy. "Lady Celdon, Mama."

Her mother, looking worried, patted the cushion beside her. Julia walked over and sat down on the sofa, bracing herself for the inevitable.

"You have ruined yourself," Lady Celdon said without any preamble, thumping her cane on the floor, her eyes flashing with anger.

Julia lifted her chin, forcing herself to remain calm as she serenely folded her hands in her lap. "I did no such thing."

"Julia," her mother began. "I was riding in the park earlier when several ladies were whispering and pointing. My good friend Lady Metcalf, with great mortification, informed me that you were in a locked room with Lord Ashton for over an hour. Why did you not inform us of this matter?"

"It was only a few minutes," Julia corrected, her voice steady. "And I was saving him from a compromising plot."

Quickly but calmly, she relayed the entire matter, explaining how she had overheard Lady Roslyn's scheme and rushed to warn the earl.

"Goodness," her mother breathed, her eyes widening with shock. "What outrageous conduct from Lady Roslyn."

"The only thing that matters," Lady Celdon snapped, her voice sharp, "is that now you yourself are ruined . The only way to save you is to arrange a marriage with someone respectable."

"I do not need saving," Julia replied tightly, her jaw clenched.

"I beg your pardon?" Lady Celdon demanded, her tone incredulous.

Julia tried to maintain an air of dignified calm. "Am I to concern myself with the opinions of people who have an overblown sense of their own importance? There is a new scandal every day. I am certain this one will blow over soon."

Her mother's expression softened. She took Julia's hands in hers, squeezing them gently. "No, my dear, you need not care about their opinions. But you should care about your own happiness in this life. I see the longing in your eyes when you look at your sisters with their husbands. You feel alone … so alone after growing up in a rowdy, boisterous family that was always coddling and loving you. We are all scattered across England now, and when you do visit, you think you see that everyone is happy without you in their lives."

Her mother's words pierced Julia's heart with a sharp pain laced with guilt. Had she been so transparent? "Mama—"

"Do you think I do not know my own children, how they think and feel?" her mother asked, smiling gently at her. "I assure you, we all love you, and we want the same happiness for you that we've found. Our family now belongs to high society, and living outside of it would be very challenging. You do not wish to carry a tarnished reputation, Julia. Even if you attend balls with your most influential siblings, there will be those who whisper, point, and spread rumors that you … have been despoiled."

Julia's chest tightened with anxiety, making it difficult to breathe. "I … the earl did nothing of the sort."

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she fought not to think about the hot, passionate kisses she had shared with him or his bold suggestion that she become his lover.

Oh, God, it's all a disaster .

"Lord Ashton is unlikely to marry you," Lady Celdon said. "Given that it has been three full days and he has not presented himself to the family, I am certain he will not make an offer. Despite having two sisters who are duchesses with very influential connections within the ton , they will not be able to force a family as powerful as the Sinclairs. There is no threat that can pressure such a family."

Julia's heart twisted with both anger and despair at her grandaunt's words, but Lady Celdon was not finished.

"Therefore, you must marry one of the gentlemen who have shown you attention for the last couple of seasons," the old dragon declared. "Viscount Bently has been persistent in his regard, and he comes from a respectable family.

Julia blinked, unable to form an impression of the young viscount. He had stirred nothing but friendship within her heart.

"We will increase your dowry by ten thousand pounds to soften the blow of the scandal. It is the only way to salvage your reputation and ensure a secure future."

Julia stared at her grandaunt in disbelief, her hands trembling with the force of her emotions. "I will do no such thing," she said, her voice rising with fury. "I refuse to be forced into a marriage I do not want, to live a life I did not choose!"

"Julia, be reasonable," her mother said, her tone filled with concern. "Lady Celdon is not advising you to your detriment. We can think of someone else that you admire—"

"Bloody hell, no!"

"Julia," her mother cried, her tone sharp with rebuke. "You will mind your words and manners."

But Julia had heard enough. She shot to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. "I will not let anyone force me into a life I do not wish to lead," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Are we not the very bad Fairbanks who have weathered countless scandals and still emerge with grace? Why am I not allowed a bit of wickedness, too, and not be pressured against my heart?"

"You know the reason," Lady Celdon said coldly. "Your family is no longer Fairbanks! There is the Earl of Celdon, the Viscountess Havisham, the Duchess of Ravenswood, the Duchess of Shrewsbury. Do I need to continue?"

Julia trembled. Without answering, she turned and fled from the room, her vision blurred by the tears she refused to shed. She rushed up the stairs to her bedchamber, her mind a whirlwind of sorrow, pain, guilt, and defiance. Once inside, she slammed the door shut and threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in the pillows. She had fought so hard to hold back her tears, but now they flowed freely, soaking the soft fabric beneath her. She was furious with herself for crying, for allowing her family's words to hurt her so deeply. But the thought of being trapped in a marriage with a man she didn't love, all because of a scandal she had tried to prevent, was unbearable.

No. She was not some pawn to be sacrificed for the sake of appearances. Wiping her tears away, Julia sat up, her resolve hardening with every passing second. She would escape this madness, this ridiculous world of the ton and her grandaunt's expectations. But how?

Her gaze drifted to the wardrobe, where she had a set of gentlemen's clothes. She often wore them when she sneaked out to ride astride in the park. A daring, reckless plan began to form in her mind. She would dress as a gentleman, take one of her mother's husband's horses from the mews, and ride down to Penporth. It was a place far removed from the suffocating confines of London society, where she could be free to live on her terms.

She walked to the small writing desk in her bedchamber, sat and took a sheaf of paper from the drawer. Dipping the quill in the ink, she wrote.

Dearest Colin,

I know I promised not to run away again when I felt overwhelmed and confused, but today, I must break that promise, and I hope you can forgive me. I am leaving town and heading to Penporth, where I plan to stay for the remainder of the season. I have taken one of the horses from Lord Ashworth's stables and assumed the guise of a young gentleman, dressing the part convincingly. I assure you, no one will suspect that I am a lady traveling alone. I also have my allowance and have enough money for my travel. Do not frown. I could not bear the thought of being cooped up in a carriage for the journey—I want to feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair, to experience a sense of freedom.

By now, you must have heard about the scandal that has befallen me. I comprehend the intentions of our dear mother and even the old dragon's, but I refuse to succumb to societal pressure. I am more than a mere pawn in the game of reputation, and I will not enter a marriage that is not of my own choosing just to avoid disgrace.

I daresay I shall see you and Hermina soon in Penporth for our yearly family Christmas gathering. Please, Colin, do not chase after me. Once I have reached home, I will send a letter to let you know I arrived safely.

With all my love,

Julia

She wrote another to her mother and stepfather, informing him she had taken one of his horses and would arrange for the animal's return. She rang the bell for a servant. When the maid arrived, Julia instructed when the letters would be delivered. Once the maid departed, Julia hurried to the wardrobe. She pulled out the clothes, discarding her gown and dressing quickly in the trousers, shirt, waistcoat and riding jacket. The fit was perfect, even if her curves were slightly more pronounced than she would like. Julia wrapped her hair tightly and tucked it under a cap, securing it in place before donning a pair of boots. Her blade and a pouch with money were placed in her pocket.

She silently slipped out of her room. The house was shrouded in stillness, and Julia swiftly navigated the hallways, ensuring her movements were soundless. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way to the back entrance and out to the mews. The afternoon air was a refreshing caress against her skin as she saddled one of the horses, a sturdy bay mare. Julia mounted with grace and urged the horse into a brisk trot, steering away from London and toward the tranquility she craved.

Rafe's eyes bore into the scandal sheet, a chilling fury igniting in his chest. The investment reports he had been meticulously studying were forgotten, the newssheet crinkling under the force of his grip. The words on the page seemed to sneer at him, their implications as piercing as daggers.

Dearest readers,

This author has it on the highest authority that the only Miss F who remains unmarried has scandalously set her cap at the illustrious and most sought-after Earl of A.

Refusing to read another word, he tossed the sheet aside, his jaw clenched in anger. He lifted his gaze to his sister Rebecca, who watched him with concern and curiosity.

"Why have you shown this to me?" Rafe demanded.

"Everyone is talking about it," Rebecca replied softly. "Is … is the Earl of A you? My friends seem certain of it and have plagued me with many questions."

"Do not listen to idle gossip," he said curtly, standing up from his desk.

Before Rafe could say more, the door to his study opened, and his mother entered, her expression stubborn and persistent. Her gaze flicked to the discarded scandal sheet, and her lips tightened in disapproval.

"I see you are already aware of what is happening," she said, her tone measured but firm. "You might feel some sense of responsibility for this chit, Ashton. However, let me warn you, there is no need for you to rush to her rescue and offer marriage."

He lifted a brow, his irritation barely masked. "I was not planning to rush anywhere." No, when he acted it would be with calm pragmatism.

Relief flooded his mother's eyes, and she sighed heavily as she sank into an armchair, smoothing the skirts of her gown. "Good. I had a conversation with Lady Celdon earlier, and it seems the family intends to resolve this matter on their own. I implore you, son, do not interfere. Lady Roslyn has written to me, asking for an audience with you. She has written to you several times but received no response."

"I burned them without opening the envelopes," Rafe replied icily, his tone leaving no room for doubt about his feelings.

His mother flinched at the harshness in his voice but pressed on, her concern evident. "Ashton, I ask that you not be too harsh. Listen to Lady Roslyn's apology, at least. She is young and misguided. We all make mistakes; perhaps she deserves a chance to explain herself."

He scoffed, his anger flaring anew. "I have no desire to listen to anyone who could be so conniving and spiteful. There is nothing Lady Roslyn can say that would justify her actions. She set out to trap me, and in doing so, she endangered the reputation of another."

"But she is remorseful," his mother insisted, pleading. "Roslyn understands the gravity of what she has done. Perhaps, with time, she could—"

"Could what, Mother?" Rafe interrupted, his tone sharp. "Redeem herself in my eyes? Lady Roslyn is no concern of mine. How has Miss Fairbanks's family solved the matter?"

His mother hesitated, her eyes flickering with unease before she spoke. "Lady Celdon, who has remained a good friend despite the Fairbanks joining her family, informed me that Miss Julia will marry someone to restore her respectability. Lady Celdon has already begun making arrangements, a young viscount who showed interest in the young chit for the last two seasons."

Rafe felt as if the ground had been pulled from under him. Unexpected denial gripped him, making it hard to think. He thought of the woman he had kissed, the fire in her eyes when she had spoken of her belief that no one should be forced into a lifelong union. He recalled her charm, spark, the essence of her that had intrigued him from the moment they met.

The idea of that spark being dimmed, of her being forced into a marriage to save her reputation—because she had tried to save him—was unbearable. Worse still was the thought of her in another man's arms, in another man's bed.

No. He couldn't even damn well think of it.

Without another word, Rafe turned and strode from the room, ignoring his mother's startled call. His footsteps echoed in the hallway as he hurried down the stairs, his mind racing with a singular purpose. He had to find Miss Fairbanks before she was pushed into a marriage she didn't want.

Rafe had no clear plan, only the overwhelming need to stop what was happening. He called for his stallion from the mews. The footman, sensing the urgency, quickly went to relay the message. A few minutes later, his sleek black stallion, Orion, was brought around. Rafe mounted the horse and urged it into a swift gallop as he headed straight for the Earl of Celdon's house.

When he arrived at the grand townhouse, he dismounted and tossed the reins to a waiting groom. His heart pounded as he strode up the steps, his boots striking the cobbled stone with purpose.

Rafe knocked and, as the door opened, clipped, "Inform Lord Celdon, the Earl of Ashton has called."

The butler led him directly to the drawing room without question. Rafe wondered if his presence was anticipated.

"Wait here, my lord. I will inform his lordship that you wish to speak with him."

Rafe nodded, his thoughts already focused on the conversation ahead. He barely registered the elegant furnishings of the drawing room. A few minutes passed, the door opened, and Lord Celdon entered the room. Rafe immediately noticed the resemblance between the earl and his sister—the same brilliant blue eyes, the same defined beauty. There was no mistaking that they were siblings.

"Lord Ashton," Lord Celdon greeted him, his voice steady as he regarded Rafe with a measured gaze. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"

Rafe wasted no time. "I am sure you know the scandal linking my name with your sister, Miss Julia. Before further conversation, I wish to speak with her."

Lord Celdon stared at him for several beats, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded letter. He handed it to Rafe, his gaze never leaving his face.

Rafe took the letter, his eyes scanning the handwriting. As he read Julia's words, a mix of emotions surged within him—relief, amusement, and something deeper that made his heart clench.

I refuse to succumb to societal pressure. I am more than a mere pawn in the game of reputation, and I will not enter a marriage that is not of my own choosing just to avoid disgrace.

He read those lines twice before lowering his gaze to the rest of her words.

Rafe couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as he finished reading. Of course, Julia had run away. The little spitfire had taken matters into her own hands. He handed the letter back to Lord Celdon. "Thank you, Celdon. I appreciate you sharing this with me. Will you chase her?"

Lord Celdon studied him carefully, his expression softening just slightly. "No. Julia has always been headstrong but hides it well beneath her sweetness. Will you chase after her, Ashton?"

Rafe hid his surprise. "You do not seem afraid that I might do so."

A rather enigmatic smile curved Lord Celdon's mouth, and he made no reply. Without another word, Rafe turned and strode from the house, his mind already planning his next move.