Chapter 35

The Aftermath Of A Revelation

“Noooooooooooo!”

The scream came from the top of the stairs, and everyone looked up at Agnes. Beatrice could not be sure if it was the light, but Agnes looked a little demonic, with shadows and light dancing across her face.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Agnes screamed, unbothered that she was making a scene. “It is all lies!”

“Yes, of course, it is,” the Duke replied. “Thank you for the confirmation.”

There was some uncomfortable laughter as the guests watched her meltdown.

“No, he is lying about the lies!” Agnes shouted. “He is the one telling the lies, not… the person who wrote the articles. I know he is lying, and I know the truth, and I will tell everyone.”

“Enough!” the Duke boomed. “Miss Jennings, I know you are in love with me, but we can never be together. I love my wife, and I always will. You must stop your pursuit. I agreed to have my sister attend your ball, but I did not expect it would lead to this. I should have known not to attend after you tried to kiss me at the charity gala.”

Gasps rose among the crowd—that mote of information was definitely gossipworthy.

“No, you forced yourself on me, and I had to fend you off. Tell them the truth, Your Grace!”

Agnes started down the stairs, and Edwin put himself between her and his wife.

“Father!” Agnes shouted. “Father, tell him about the dowry! Tell him you will double it! I am worth that much!”

The Viscount looked shocked. “You informed me you had the situation under control, my dear,” he said, trying to soothe her. “I can’t… I don’t have that sort of money. Perhaps we can talk about this later?”

“No!” Agnes shouted. “No, we will talk about this now.” She turned to Edwin. “She has a secret child, and I know your marriage has been struggling, and she does not love you, and she goes out drinking alone at night with the commoners. She likely pays them to sleep with her.”

She had set out to make the ball one of the premium events of the Season, and she had not done that, but it did not mean the event would not be talked about for a very long time. The guests were engrossed with what was going on, and if the Viscount and his wife were ever to host a ball again, everyone would want to attend in the hopes of seeing something equally as exciting.

“That is enough!” Edwin boomed. “If you say another word, there will be further consequences for you and your family. I will not be spoken to like that, and neither should anyone else. I attended this ball as a courtesy, but it is clear you had nefarious ideas. I will listen to your ramblings no longer and put the safety of my family before your schemes.” He walked over to the Viscount. “This was a fine ball for the most part.”

He stuck out his hand, and the Viscount shook it.

Edwin returned to Beatrice. “My dear, we shall leave, and your sister might come with us, too. This event has been a disappointment, but the night need not be ruined. Perhaps Elizabeth and Hannah can return to our estate together and plan other events for the Season.”

“That sounds nice,” Beatrice replied.

“Father, stop them,” Agnes demanded.

“Agnes, be quiet,” her mother snapped. “You are making a fool of yourself.”

“You have already made a fool of yourself,” her father growled. “Not another word.”

With the Duke leaving, it felt like a natural conclusion to the evening, and everyone started gathering their things.

“No, the ball is not over!” Agnes shouted. “Play some music!”

The Viscountess tried to contain a groan, but Agnes was intent on keeping the ball going.

“We shall reschedule the event,” the Viscount informed everyone.

Agnes stomped around the room, trying to take control of the situation to no avail.

“Come on,” Edwin said, shepherding his family out of the hall.

Beatrice clung to him, holding his arm and enjoying the sense of safety she felt. When they got outside, she stopped him and pulled him to her to kiss him finally. She had wanted to do it since she had arrived at the ball but had not imagined she would get the chance.

The Duke embraced her, and it felt right this time—he was finally holding nothing back. She could feel the energy and emotion coursing through his body. She pressed her lips harder against his, needing to feel him.

When they came apart, it was not because they wanted to end the kiss but because they were being shouted at from a balcony above the main entrance to the manor.

“I have all the proof I need!” Agnes shouted. “I know what you did, Beatrice, and I shall prove it. You have made an enemy out of me, and I will destroy you. If I can’t have him, then no one can!”

Edwin quickly shepherded Beatrice away from the commotion.

Beatrice tried not to worry now that she was in the arms of her love, but she was wary after Agnes’s threat. Agnes was set on destroying her reputation, but her own reputation had been destroyed at the ball. Would it be enough to stop any oncoming storm?

Beatrice pulled the note out of her reticule—the one Sally handed to her. She passed it to Edwin when they were in the coach. He opened it and read it.

“You can’t go out there tonight,” he said.

* * *

Agnes clung to the man on the horse and hated herself for riding with him, but her needs far outweighed her feelings. She forgot what his name was. Walter? William? Some other name that started with W? He was a footman from her estate, and he was there to do her bidding, and that was all that mattered.

She didn’t need his name, as she had no intention of speaking to him any more than needed to. She blamed her parents for not pushing her more to learn to ride. She could keep her balance on a horse, but she could not ride at full speed. If they had been more firm when she had complained of hating horse riding, she wouldn’t have been in this embarrassing situation.

Still, it would all be worth it when her plan came to fruition.

“There,” she hissed.

“I see her,” the footman called.

“I didn’t ask if you saw her,” Agnes snapped. “Did I ask you to speak?”

The man remained silent.

Agnes had hoped he might speak again so that she could further scold him—it was hard to show just how angry she was with him and the situation when she had her arms wrapped around a commoner. And not any commoner, but the help from her father’s estate! What was she supposed to do? Grab him tighter? The fool might mistake it for affection.

It was a complete embarrassment, and she would relieve him of his duties as soon as the task was done.

And it would be done soon.

Agnes watched from atop the horse and amongst the trees as Beatrice snuck out of the manor wearing the same clothes as last time. She had not personally witnessed it the first time—she had tasked a hired hand to watch Walford Estate and report back to her.

When she heard about Beatrice sneaking out dressed as a man to drink with strangers in taverns, she became very excited. The only problem was that she had no proof. All she had was the word of a man she had paid. That was about to change.

The ball had been a disaster, but Agnes never had only one plan in place. She had sent her maid to speak with Beatrice after she had found out the real reason for her sneaking out.

“So, you think you can destroy me?” Agnes muttered.

“No, I would—” the footman started.

“Fool!” Agnes snapped. “I am not talking to you. I am talking to her. Oh, forget it!”

You want to destroy me tonight, but I will finally destroy you.

The plan was set. She had sent her maid to tempt Beatrice out one more time, and she had gone on a tirade on the balcony to ensure Beatrice would come. It was the perfect trap, and there were witnesses waiting in the tavern that Beatrice had visited before. There would be no mistakes this time.

“Stay close to her. And I am talking to you this time, you fool,” Agnes said.

The footman remained silent and gently manipulated the reins to steer the horse through the trees, remaining invisible as Beatrice left the estate.

Agnes wondered if Beatrice had told the Duke before sneaking out this time.

The moon was bulbous and bright in the clear sky, giving good illumination—enough to follow the Duchess on her horse, but enough that they had to be careful not to be seen. Agnes could not have the night ruined by being spotted. Everything had fallen apart around her, and this was her last chance.

A chance I will seize with both hands. I will ruin her life for what she did to me, and then I will have the Duke. He will marry me, and we will teach everyone a lesson for laughing at me.

Agnes laughed softly as they rode, and she felt the footman tense up. She hated him more than she had ever hated anyone before—even Beatrice—and could not wait to be rid of him. Her father might be a little put out, but he would get over it.

“Don’t lose her,” she warned.

The footman performed well, Agnes had to give him that. He remained behind Beatrice’s horse, far enough away to keep an eye on her and never getting too close. Agnes was sure she knew where Beatrice was going, but she needed to see it all for herself. She needed to be there at just the right moment.

She smiled and could not contain her glee when they approached The Red Lion.

“Let her go inside,” she said.

The footman slowed the horse, keeping to the side of the road to remain in the shadows. Agnes watched Beatrice tether her mount and enter the establishment.

“Go quick,” Agnes ordered.

She worried that Beatrice would exit as quickly as she had gone in and the opportunity would be missed.

The footman dismounted and helped Agnes down. He tethered the horse as quickly as possible and then escorted Agnes into the tavern as instructed. She pulled a black hood over her head just like Beatrice’s—the footman needed no such disguise.

When she entered the bar, she caught the eyes of two of her maids sitting at a small table with drinks before them. She did not acknowledge them. She scanned the tavern and found her second footman also sitting in the bar, as she instructed. The trap was set, the bait had lured the prey, and she would have multiple witnesses this time.

Agnes spotted Beatrice in the smaller room off the main bar area. Beatrice sat with her back to Agnes, talking with the foolish maid’s brother and drinking ale. It formed a picture reminiscent of a Renaissance painting—it was beautiful, everything laid out for a private showing for Agnes.

She did not need to instruct her maids or footman anymore. They all stood up to join her and her rider as she entered the back room.

She took a deep breath and laid a hand on Beatrice’s shoulder. A rush of excitement coursed through her body at the touch.

“Welcome to your worst nightmare,” she said. “I finally have you. There is nowhere to run now.”

Beatrice turned around to face her, and Agnes looked her in the eye, savoring every moment.

The hood came down, and Agnes stumbled back.

“Please! I thought I made myself clear at the ball,” the Duke snapped.

“You!” Agnes screamed. “What are you doing here!?”

“What does it look like I am doing here, Miss Jennings? I am having a drink with an old friend.”

“No, no, no,” Agnes muttered. “No, it was supposed to be her.”

“Are you feeling all right?” Lord Pemberton asked from a table to the side.

Agnes jumped in fright. She started crying and muttering when she saw three other noblemen she recognized.

“No, no, it was Beatrice. This is where she came before,” she insisted.

“You must be mistaken,” the Duke said. “This leads me to wonder why you really are here. Did I see you ride here on a horse with a man? What were you planning to do with him, Miss Jennings?”

“No! You don’t get to accuse me of anything. He is my footman, and he will tell you the truth.”

“Will he?” Edwin asked. He turned to the footman. “What is your name, Sir?”

“Warren, Your Grace,” the footman replied.

“Warren, let me ask you this. Do you believe you will have a job tomorrow with Miss Jennings?” Edwin asked.

“I don’t think I will. I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Of course, I don’t like you,” Agnes snapped. “You are incompetent and an imbecile. Now, tell them what we are doing here.”

“If you are looking for work, I need good men at my estate,” the Duke continued. “I’ve just hired Sally.”

“Who the heck is Sally?” Agnes demanded.

“She worked for you,” Warren muttered.

The Duke turned to the rest of the servants. “I’m extending the same offer to you.”

“Stop trying to bribe my staff,” Agnes spat. “No, Warren, tell everyone the truth.”

“All right,” Warren said. “The truth is that Miss Jennings made me come out here tonight to be alone with me. She wanted me to do things to her, like kissing her and holding her, and I knew if I didn’t do it, I would not have a job come morning.”

“You are a liar!” Agnes shouted.

She tried to scratch at his face, but he was too quick for her—he moved out of her way.

“Well, there we have it, ladies and gentlemen,” Edwin announced. “We have many witnesses as to what transpired here tonight. I will finish my ale and then leave you all to it. I must spend some time with my wife.”