Chapter 5

Scandals And Propositions

Honeyfield House

“What is the meanin—” Phineas didn’t get to finish the sentence before the coughing and spluttering started.

He had already been making a mess of himself, gobbling up his runny eggs and toast covered in marmalade, leaving small blobs on his chin and shirt, but half a mouthful was now splattered across the table before him.

“Phineas!” Letitia gasped. “What is the meaning of this?”

“The meaning!” Phineas snapped after his coughing fit subsided. “The meaning?” He took the scandal sheets in both hands and waved them in the air. Then, he passed them to his wife, violently tapping on them with his finger. “This is the meaning of it!”

Letitia’s eyes darted from side to side as she read, and her face turned white as a sheet.

Beatrice had not known what to expect, and she still didn’t, but she knew it was not good. She looked down at her plate, hoping that what her parents had read was about someone else. Hannah looked down at her plate, too, not saying a word.

“No,” Letitia moaned, still not revealing what she had read.

The longer it went on, the worse Beatrice felt.

“Well, it is all over,” Phineas hissed. “There is no fixing it now.”

He grabbed the newspaper from his wife and crumpled it, before slamming it down on the table.

The loud thump startled everyone, and Beatrice mustered the courage to look up at her father. She had to face the music sometime, and the sooner she did, the better it might look.

Judging by her father’s reddened face, she did not think the problem would be fixed quickly.

“Under my nose,” Phineas snapped.

Hannah wiped her mouth with her napkin and made to get up from the table.

“No,” he warned. “You disappeared at one point, too, and you look far too guilty, Hannah.”

Hannah sat back down without looking at her father.

“What were you doing in our host’s room? And you were in a state of undress? You tried to seduce the Duke of Walford! Beatrice, what is going on? Please, tell me this is nonsense!”

Beatrice felt her face flush pink, and she tried her best to keep her composure so she could navigate the scandal. The Duke had informed her he would take care of it, but he seemed to have done nothing. He hadn’t even stopped the sheets from printing his name.

“What does it say, Father?” Beatrice asked.

“What does it say?” her father shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “I just told you what it says. If you have not denied it, then it must be true. First, you run away, and then you are seducing men when your husband-to-be is downstairs. What is the matter with you?”

“Nothing is the matter with me,” Beatrice claimed, trying not to be argumentative. “I will still marry the Baron or anyone else you choose, Father. I will soon be wed, and everything will be fine.”

“Fine!” Phineas spluttered, spitting out the tea he had just sipped. “Lord Mutton won’t want anything to do with you after this.”

Beatrice felt some weight lift off her shoulders. Perhaps she could become a spinster and pursue some hobby. Although, that might also mean her father would be angry with her for the rest of his life.

“No one will want to marry you after this,” Phineas continued. “Do you understand what you have done? This is the end of everything, Beatrice.”

Beatrice thought her mother might jump in to soothe the situation, but she was angry too.

“I’ll do anything. I’ll make this right.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. She had not meant to ruin anything. She wanted to make her father happy and make up for running away. She only didn’t want to marry the horrid Baron. It should have been a simple plan, but she had ruined everything.

The butler cleared his throat by the door.

“You will do what I ask,” Phineas said, ignoring the butler for the moment. “You will do as you are told for the rest of your life, but even that will not make this right. I should never have let you out of my sight last night, and—” He looked toward the door, where the butler stood. “Oh, what is it?”

“His Grace, the Duke of Walford, has arrived,” the butler informed them.

It was Phineas’s turn to turn white as a sheet. He looked at Beatrice and then his wife, unsure what to do.

“I can speak with him, Father,” Beatrice suggested.

He let out a scolding laugh. “Oh, no, you have done quite enough. I shall speak with His Grace and hope he is not as angry as I fear him to be. He will be furious if he has come this early.” He stood up. “He does not do a lot of business in the city, but he does have some influence. I pray he will not make trouble for all of us. I shall ask him to take pity on us.”

Phineas had lost his fight, and he wiped his chin delicately with his napkin before placing it on the table. He walked slowly out of the room, leaving silence in his wake.

Beatrice looked down at her plate, studying the shapes her half-eaten breakfast food made. Her eyes traced the perimeter of her toast, needing something to take her mind off the mess she was stuck in the middle of.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Hannah hanging her head, too. Letitia sat across at the table, glaring at them, but she didn’t speak a word. The three sat in silence as the minutes ticked by. Beatrice could imagine the Duke berating her father for her behavior.

He should berate me. It was my fault.

Finally, Phineas returned—alone.

“Beatrice, come with me. His Grace would like to speak with you,” he ordered.

“Me?” Beatrice said.

“What did he say?” Letitia asked.

“Beatrice, please,” Phineas pressed.

Beatrice got up from her chair and followed her father out of the room. She heard the soft scraping of chairs across the floor as her mother and sister followed close behind. Her father led her to the sitting room, where the Duke stood by the window, looking toward them. Beatrice quickly averted her gaze—she could not read his expression in the brief moment their eyes met.

She could read herself clearly. All she could think about was the warmth of his breath on her lips and then her ear when he had almost kissed her. She had to look away from his lips for fear of being exposed.

“Lady Beatrice, you must have read the scandal sheets by now,” the Duke began stoically.

“I have, and I?—”

He raised his hand to silence her. “We both know how this looks to the ton—not that I care about any of that. I have been looking for a wife for a while, and I have explored one option, but I am not set on it. Your family has good social and political standing, it makes more sense for our two families to come to an arrangement that is beneficial for the both of us.”

“What?” Phineas blurted out. “You said nothing about—this is most?—”

“Lord Ramsbury, your daughter ran from the first man she was to wed, did she not? And when she returned, you promised her to the first gentleman who would take her.”

“I don’t know that—” Phineas started.

“You don’t know if you should accept my proposal? Do you not wish for your daughter to be married and to someone of my standing? You wish to marry her off as soon as possible to avoid any more embarrassment, right?” the Duke asked.

“Well, I mean?—”

“Then it is settled,” the Duke stated.

Beatrice had never seen her father intimidated by someone else, but he was intimidated by the Duke.

“And I don’t get a say in any of this?” she asked. “I was the one in the wrong, and I don’t need anyone to protect my reputation. Some have promised in the past, but they have not followed through.”

“Beatrice!” her father warned. “Don’t speak to His Grace like that.”

The warning told her that he had warmed up to the idea of marriage to the Duke. And why wouldn’t he want that? The Duke was a far better option than Lord Mutton, and after what had happened the previous night, her prospects were currently limited to one man.

“I only mean that His Grace should not suffer for my mistakes,” Beatrice said diplomatically.

She had heard stories about the Duke and witnessed his temper firsthand, and though she had few options, she did not want to marry him. First the Earl, then the Baron, and now the Duke. Why could she not get to know a man first?

“It was your mistake, but I was complicit. I have a reputation, but I do not wish to be spoken about as if I am a man who goes into other people’s homes to seduce innocent ladies. That is what they will think. And you can save your reputation by marrying me. There will still be some scandal, but we both come out of this looking better than we should, and we both get what we want.”

“We both get what we want?” Beatrice sulked.

“It is for the best,” Phineas agreed. “Beatrice, no other man will marry you after what happened, and His Grace has been gracious enough to find a way out of this. You will marry him.”

Beatrice did not believe everything he said. The Duke could come out of this looking just fine, and he had already been promised to another. She did not care about her reputation now—she had made mistakes, and she would deal with it.

Beatrice looked at her mother, who looked back at her with hope in her eyes. It was an unforeseen turn of events that would solve all of their current problems.

I didn’t want a life of sadness, but now I will be forced into a life of misery and cruelty. Is that worth making Mother and Father happy?

“I believe I don’t have a choice,” Beatrice mumbled.

“Good,” the Duke replied. “Then it is settled. We shall marry within the month.”