CHAPTER 8

Wesley had hardly slept all night long. His thoughts and dreams had been all consumed with the beautiful and lovely lady that he had met the night before. Lady Sylvia, with her sweet laugh and her pretty face. That was what kept a bright smile on his face as the scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee wafted through the hallways, drawing him into the inviting warmth of the room where breakfast was already laid out.

There he found his mother and Harriet, already enjoying their food.

"Good morning," Wesley greeted, sliding into his seat across from his mother.

"Good morning, dear," his mother replied absently, her eyes never leaving the paper in her hands. Harriet offered him a small smile and a nod.

Curiosity piqued by his mother's unusual preoccupation; Wesley reached for the discarded sections of the scandal sheet to see what he could find. He scanned the pages, the bold head lines catching his eye. It did not take long for him to find the source of his mother's fascination. The sheets were brimming with gossip from Lady Grace's ball, which of course was going to intrigue his mother. She adored to know what was going on with other people, and to chat about them as well. Even if it made Wesley uncomfortable.

All of a sudden, a particular article caught Wesley's attention, and he leaned closer, his interest sharpening. The column was dedicated to the mysterious Lady Sylvia, who of course everyone was interested in. She was the new lady in town, so it made sense that she might feature here. What Wesley did not understand was the tone of the article. The writer speculated wildly about Sylvia's background, hinting at a sordid past and dubious origins. They painted her as a figure shrouded in intrigue, her presence at the ball causing quite a stir among the ton.

Wesley felt a twinge of discomfort as he read the exaggerated and sensationalized accounts. The words seemed to leap off the page, each sentence more outrageous than the last. He frowned, his gaze shifting from the printed scandal to his mother's intent face.

"Mother," he began cautiously, "what do you make of this? Lady Grace must be really upset that these things are being written about her niece."

His mother looked up, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "It is rather shocking, but Lady Grace must have been expecting it. Bringing a woman of that age to a Season and debuting her as if she were one of us. It is madness."

Harriet looked up from her toast, her eyes wide. "Who are you talking about?"

"Lady Sylvia," Wesley replied, the name feeling strange on his tongue. "The papers are full of gossip about her."

He handed her the paper and she scanned over it rapidly.

Harriet's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "But she seemed so lovely at the ball. Why would they write such awful things?"

"Because scandal sells," Wesley's mother said matter of factly, folding the paper and setting it aside. "People love a mystery, and the more salacious, the better. And it seems like this woman truly is a mystery, and not in a good way. Entering society in such a way is utter madness. I can not believe it happened."

She shot Wesley a warning look, clearly unhappy that he had spent so much time with Lady Sylvia the previous night, instead of Lady Arabella. It was written all over her face. Wesley could not help it, he shrunk in on himself a little under his mother's glare.

"Well?" she continued with a raised eyebrow. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"About what?" Wesley demanded, deciding to play dumb. If he did not have to explain himself, then he would not.

"Your choice to dance with Lady Sylvia," she said, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of warning. "It was... unexpected. I thought that you were going to dance with Lady Arabella again!"

Wesley shook his head slowly, setting his tea cup down on the table beside him. "I did not think it would cause such a stir for me to dance with Lady Sylvia. But it most certainly would have got tongues wagging if I had another dance with Lady Arabella."

Victoria's lips pressed into a thin line. "You may not have intended to cause a stir, but it has. People are talking, Wesley. The scandal sheets are already buzzing with rumours about her, and that by extension, will affect us. You know I do not want anything to affect us."

Wesley absorbed her words, feeling the weight of her concern. He knew his mother well enough to understand that her caution was driven by a deep sense of familial duty. Especially with his father not being around, it left everything to her, and it was a job that she took very seriously. Yet, he could not ignore the nagging sense of injustice that rose within him at the thought of Lady Sylvia being maligned so unfairly. Especially by his mother. She should not be talking about Lady Sylvia like this.

"Lady Sylvia was introduced to society yesterday by the host of the ball," he snapped. "I do not think it scandalous to dance with her. We have to welcome new people in."

Victoria sighed, her expression softening ever so slightly. "I understand that, but society is quick to judge, and even quicker to spread rumours. Our family's reputation is at stake here. You must be more careful. You do not wish to ruin your chance with Lady Arabella. I am sure she was most upset by your behaviour last night. She is the diamond of the Season, you can not forget that. She is going to have a lot of people interested in her. Do not ruin this for us."

Wesley felt the sting of his mother's words but maintained his composure. "Lady Arabella is perfectly capable of understanding the nuances of society. One dance with Lady Sylvia does not signify anything more than a simple gesture of courtesy. I am sure she knows that."

Plus, he did not want to get caught up with Lady Arabella. Why was his mother not understanding that? She truly could not see it. For a moment, he tried to think of ways that he could make her understand things from his point of view, but he knew that his mother was unlikely to even give him a chance to talk. She did not usually want to hear anything that he had to say, unless he was in agreement with her.

His mother's expression hardened. "Courtesy? Wesley, you know how these things work. Appearances are everything. Your actions, however innocent you may perceive them to be, can be interpreted in ways you can not control. You have to be careful all the time."

Harriet, who had been listening quietly, interjected softly, "But, Mother, is it not our duty to extend kindness to those who are new to our circles, especially if they are being unjustly targeted?"

Wesley glanced at Harriet, appreciating her support. "Exactly. Lady Sylvia has done nothing to warrant such cruel speculation. If anything, she needs allies, not attackers."

His mother's eyes hardened once more as she looked at Harriet, then back to Wesley. "While I admire your sense of justice, you must understand the precarious position we are in. Lady Arabella's family is influential. A connection with her could be beneficial for us all. Do not jeopardize it."

After breakfast, as his mother excused herself to attend to her correspondence much to Wesley's relief, he gathered his thoughts, preparing to retreat to his study. The events of the morning had left him feeling a mixture of determination and unease, and he hoped to find some clarity among his books and papers. Even if he just sat there without doing a thing. Just trying to organize his thoughts.

Just as he turned to leave the breakfast room, Harriet approached him, her face drawn with concern. She glanced around to ensure their mother was out of earshot before speaking.

"Wesley," she began in a hushed tone, "I need to tell you something about last night."

Wesley paused, noting the seriousness in her eyes. "What is it, Harriet?"

She took a deep breath, clearly unsettled. "After you went to the parlour, there was an incident in the drawing room. Mother and Lady Arabella were... exceptionally harsh towards Sylvia. It was terrible to watch. They said some dreadful things to her, making it obvious that she does not fit in." She bit down awkwardly on her bottom lip. "They made sure everyone else could see it as well."

Wesley felt a jolt of surprise, his protectiveness for Lady Sylvia flaring up inside him instantly. "What do you mean? What transpired?"

Harriet's voice dropped even lower, her words barely above a whisper. "They belittled her, Wesley. They questioned her background, her character, everything. It was as if they were trying to break her spirit. Lady Sylvia tried to maintain her composure, but eventually, she could not bear it and left the room feigning illness. It was very sad to see."

Wesley's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Why would they do such a thing? What did Lady Sylvia do to deserve that? To deserve all of this?"

Harriet shook her head, her eyes glistening with sympathy. "She did nothing wrong, Wesley. They were just cruel. It seemed as if Mother and Lady Arabella were determined to make her feel unwelcome. I think they were threatened by her presence, especially after you danced with her. At least, that was how it seemed to me."

Wesley gritted his teeth in anger. He could not believe that his own mother would be so cruel. What if she was the reason that the ton had turned on Lady Sylvia? Perhaps if his mother and Lady Arabella had not been so cruel, everyone would have simply let her slip in to society. They could not do this to her, just because he had asked her to dance. That was his decision, not hers. She had done nothing wrong.

"I can not believe it," Wesley muttered, his voice thick with frustration. "Mother's actions could have made this so much worse."

Harriet placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I know you are upset, Wesley. But you need to approach this carefully. Mother and Lady Arabella have significant influence. Confronting them directly could make things worse for Lady Sylvia. You need to try and make them leave her alone, not attack her more."

Wesley nodded, struggling to contain his anger. "You are right, Harriet. I need to handle this delicately. But I can not just stand by and let them tear Lady Sylvia apart. I will have to do something to correct this. I just do not know what… yet."

***

Wesley spent most of the day seated in his study. It was a comforting room for him, one that was filled with the comforting scent of aged leather and ink, the smells that reminded him of his father. His desk was strewn with letters and documents that all needed his attention, but his thoughts were elsewhere, swirling with the events of the morning and his growing concern for Lady Sylvia. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed to amplify the quiet tension.

A knock at the door interrupted his reverie, actually making him jump. The butler entered with a formal bow. "Sir, Lord Edward Hamilton has arrived and would like to meet with you."

Wesley stood, a smile spreading across his face. This was a nice surprise. "Thank you, Carter. Please, show him in."

Moments later, Edward entered the study, his presence immediately bringing a sense of camaraderie.

"Edward, it is good to see you," Wesley greeted, moving to pour drinks for both of them. He handed a glass to Edward, who accepted it with a nod of thanks. "What a night last night was. The ball at Lady Grace's has stirred up more trouble than I anticipated."

Edward took a sip of his drink, regarding Wesley thoughtfully. "Indeed, I am aware. The gossip columns are all aflutter regarding the host's niece. Did you have the pleasure of making her acquaintance? I found Lady Sylvia to be quite agreeable during our conversation."

"I danced with her and sat with her at dinner, Edward." Wesley's expression softened as he recalled the fun he had with Lady Sylvia. "She is not like the others. Lady Sylvia has a mind of her own, a love for literature, and an air of authenticity that's rare among the prim and proper ladies of the ton. I find myself drawn to her in ways I did not expect. Which only makes this so much worse for me to handle."

Edward leaned forward, intrigued. "Oh my! I did miss a lot last night."

Wesley smiled, his eyes lighting up with the memory. "Yes, well I am sure that you had your eye on someone as well."

"No one in particular," Edward laughed. "Not like you. But I cannot imagine your mother is pleased with this interest of yours."

Wesley's smile faded slightly. "You are right. Mother has made her disapproval clear. She believes my association with Lady Sylvia could damage our family's reputation, especially when there are more ‘suitable' matches like Lady Arabella."

Edward's eyes twinkled with understanding. "Wesley, you have always been one to follow your heart. Do not let societal expectations dictate your happiness. If Lady Sylvia is the one who brings you joy and challenges you intellectually, then she is worth any societal backlash. I am sure your mother will understand as much."

Wesley appreciated the sentiment, but his brow furrowed with concern. "It is easy to say, but harder to act on. The weight of family expectations and societal norms is a heavy burden. I fear the consequences of defying them. Plus, I suppose I have to think that I only met Lady Sylvia once. I will have to see her some more to know if there is anything worth fighting for."

Edward leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I will not deny that it might be a difficult path. But think about the alternative. Marrying someone who does not inspire you, who does not share your passions, would be a far greater tragedy. You have to decide what's more important: living a life true to yourself, or conforming to the expectations of others. Devote some time to Lady Sylvia and ascertain whether she is a suitable match for you."

Hearing his friend say that he should follow his heart inspired something new in Wesley's heart. Was there a chance that this could be possible after all?