Chapter 37

CHAPTER37

Julia watched as Selina peered out the door before coming back to sit on the sofa with a look of total frustration on her pretty face.

“I do not suppose that you have any good news for me.”

“The guests have arrived.” Selina sighed.

“How many are there?”

Selina paused and then told her in a pained voice, “A lot. One would think that they would avoid the engagement party after all the scandal it caused.”

“Of course, they would only flock here,” Julia muttered wryly. “After all, they want to be able to see for themselves how all of this is going to play out.”

“You know that you can still run away from all this,” Selina assured her. She shared a glance with Mary, and both of them nodded at her. “If you need to go, we can come up with something to cover for you.”

Tears started welling up in Julia’s eyes as she reached out for the both of them. “I am so fortunate to have you both. I really could not ask for a better friend and sister.”

Mary and Selina went over to her and hugged her tight. Her sister started rubbing soothing circles on her back as Selina stroked her hair.

“Where is my idiot brother when you need him?” The Duchess stomped her feet in frustration.

“Leave him be,” Julia mumbled with a sad smile. “Lord Trowbridge has many more important things to attend to than an engagement party.”

“If he was smart enough, then he would know what is more important,” Selina muttered darkly. “And he will do what needs to be done.”

In her heart, Julia wanted nothing more than for Andrew to walk through her door right now, to tell her that what they had meant something to him, too. That it was not just lust and games.

That it was real for him, too.

“Well,” she said with a teary smile, “I suppose I should stop crying and get ready. This is a betrothal party, after all, not a funeral. We cannot have the bride looking as if she had just been widowed, can we?”

“A lot of things could be solved if Lord Cosby did indeed die,” Selina hissed darkly.

“Your Grace!” Mary exclaimed in mock horror. “Shall I get the shovels and prepare a plot of earth, then?”

Selina wrinkled her nose. “Now, why are we going to get our hands dirty when I am quite certain that William can find someone who can expediently take care of matters for us.” She turned to Julia. “Just say the word, dear, and all your problems will disappear.”

Julia looked at the both of them in mute horror. “I cannot believe you are both so calmly talking about murder.”

“I cannot think of anyone who deserves a good beating more at the very least,” Mary answered blithely while examining her nails.

Julia shook her head. “No. No. No. Lord Cosby is not at all that bad—just extremely drab and boring. I’ve given it much thought; I believe he just took advantage of the situation with Lady Amanda and—”

“Lady Julia, you cannot be more mistaken,” a voice interrupted her.

All three ladies turned around to find Miss Ferguson in the doorway, her hair slightly disheveled, her hands still clutching her skirts as if she had run all the way to the room.

“He is bad, My Lady,” Miss Ferguson said breathlessly, shaking her head, her eyes wide. “He is very bad. The absolute worst.”

“Miss Ferguson, I do not exactly know what you mean—”

“He—” She was cut off when a hand reached out and grabbed her roughly by the arm.

“There you are, Theodosia,” Lord Cosby drawled with a sinister smile. “Mother has been looking all over for you.”

“Let me go!” Miss Ferguson struggled against him. “Lady Julia, you have to believe me! I—”

“Come along now, before you interrupt my bride’s intimate moment with her friends and family,” Lord Cosby sneered. To Julia, he said, “I shall see you downstairs to welcome our guests, my dear.”

With that said, Lord Cosby hauled his sister out of Julia’s bedchamber, despite her cries of protest. All three ladies could only look at the open door with eyes wide in shock.

“I do not think that is the kind of man you would like to marry,” Mary said softly.

“We know that being drab and boring is probably the best of his traits.” Selina snorted. “We already know that he is a manipulative liar who has no qualms about gambling with your reputation and that of your entire family to suit his whims.” She turned to Mary. “Perhaps you should ready the shovel and the plot of land.”

“Perhaps we should ask William if he has somebody to spare to help us bury the body.”

Julia looked on helplessly as her sister and best friend both discussed how to get rid of the man she should now call her betrothed, and all the while, she could not help thinking of somebody else.

It would seem like Andrew truly was unable to stop the betrothal.

But what if he does show up? What then?

Julia knew that even if she risked ruination and scandal, if Andrew appeared today and asked her to leave with him, she would. If he had asked her to trust him, she would do so without hesitation.

But Andrew was nowhere to be found, and it was almost time for her to make her way to the ballroom to welcome their guests and receive their warm wishes for her betrothal.

Is it not the biggest tragedy for me to find my one true love, only to have to marry another?

While Mary and Selina argued on how best to dispose of Lord Cosby’s body once they had their way with him, Julia slowly stood up and wiped the tears that had streamed down her face.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror—resplendent in a gown of deep emerald velvet, her hair held back with jeweled pins. On her head sat the tiara that had belonged to the family of the Earl of Powell for decades.

She had never looked as perfectly exquisite as when she felt the most horrible.

I look so beautiful that I want to die.

But dying was the easy part. Living was much harder.

* * *

Andrew felt a sordid amount of disdain towards all the guests in attendance at the engagement ball at Powell Estate. If they had come to sincerely congratulate the couple on their betrothal, then he might have been inclined to feel more gracious towards them. As it was, they were all there to make a spectacle of Julia, and that was something he was not about to take lying down.

“Oh, come off it, Andrew! If you are going to attend a joyous occasion such as this, you might as well make an effort to look happy for the couple.”

The Dowager Marchioness fluttered her fan irritatedly at her son as they walked into the ballroom. Almost immediately, a sort of hush fell over the room, but with a single look from her, everybody turned away and did their best to act as normally as possible.

“If you wanted me to come with you to this ball, you might as well not disgrace me and then force me to watch!” she admonished, even as she smiled brilliantly.

Indeed, no one was more adept in managing the social scene than the Dowager Marchioness of Trowbridge. The ballroom truly was her battlefield, and her arsenal consisted of words and smiles, stealthily manipulating public opinion with a little push here and a little tug there.

“I never had to do this for your sister,” she continued. “Selina did well enough on her own with only a little help. In fact,” she added, “I daresay she did better for herself when you left. Indeed, leaving her with Barrington was the best thing you have ever done for your sister.”

Andrew looked around the ballroom, searching for either Julia or his sister. He had failed in obtaining concrete evidence of who was behind the scandal sheets, but there was time enough to deal with it after this farce of a ball.

He left his mother with her widowed friends, allowing her to do what she did best—swaying the public—while he went out to look for Julia.

He needed to talk to her. He needed to convince her to choose him.

And if she would have him, he did not care whether he upended the social order and etiquette by stealing her from Lord Cosby at their own betrothal ball. He would do all that and more for her.

He looked around him and walked quickly down an empty carpeted hallway. All around him, the portraits of the Lewises’ ancestors glared at him from their lofty perches as if they sensed he intended to do something dastardly in their home.

I am not doing anything dastardly. I want to rescue your descendant from a villain who wishes to bring ruin upon the entire Lewis family.

He kept walking down the hallway, looking for any sign of Julia, when he heard a series of loud rapping on one of the doors and what sounded like a muffled cry for help.

“Someone! Please help me! Let me out!” the voice pleaded.

Andrew frowned. He looked around him, but the hallway was still empty and deathly silent except for that one door.

He walked towards it and tried the doorknob, frowning when he noticed that it was locked.

“Is someone there?” a voice tentatively asked. “Please! Please, do not leave me… I… I do not like small spaces!”

Whoever it was behind the door did not exactly sound like someone with a scheme. If anything, it seemed like the person behind it had actually been schemed themselves.

He tried to twist the doorknob again, but to no avail. It was stuck.

Damn. Whoever locked this person in certainly wanted to keep them shut away.

But who would do such a thing in the middle of a ball in a room just a short distance away from a whole gathering of the ton?

He looked up at the door and found that it was not like one of those heavy oaken portals. With a little effort, he might be able to break it down and rescue whoever was inside before he went back to looking for Julia.

Andrew put his shoulder to the door and began to test its strength. His first try rattled the door from its hinges. The second one was almost as successful. It was the third time that finally had it swinging open to reveal a young woman inside, her eyes wide and frantic.

Andrew frowned and narrowed his eyes when he recognized her. “Miss… Ferguson? What are you doing here?”

But Miss Ferguson just shook her head and grabbed his arm. “Quickly, My Lord! There is no time to lose! My brother intends to marry Lady Julia, and heaven help us all, but if she refuses him, he might do something drastic!”

That was all she needed to say for Andrew to spring into action.

“Where are they now?”

Miss Ferguson looked at him, her lips trembling. “They should be at the ballroom now. Lord and Lady Powell are due to announce the betrothal anytime soon.”

With that, Andrew dashed down the hallway and back to the ballroom, with Miss Ferguson hot on his heels.

Dear God, I hope I am not too late. Please, do not let me be too late…