Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Mother, I shall take another carriage," Ernest told his mother later that evening as they left Little Harkwell to attend the ball.

"Oh, do not be so ridiculous, Ernest. How do you think that will look to those in attendance?"

"I care little for that, as you well know." He avoided her gaze. "Have a safe journey."

"Ernest, get into the carriage, you foolish boy."

He stood his ground. They stood outside, the carriage door open. Lady Katherine was already halfway into her seat when he stepped back.

"I shall not play this game of yours any longer," he told her, his voice clipped. "You have ruined Claire's life—"

"Ah, it is Claire now? My, my, you are getting informal."

"We are good friends," he muttered. "But the point remains. You have ruined her life here in Bath, and I am trying to salvage it for her. I do not wish to be around you."

She only laughed as if it were no matter. "Ernest, Miss Gundry should be kneeling before me in thanks that I have not sent her packing. Not just to London but for good. I have not ruined her; she ruined herself with her deceit. She lied to you, dearest. What sort of an honest woman does that?"

"What would you know of honest women? You will not tell me the truth about your involvement with Lady Samantha, nor will you dare to speak of my father."

Lady Katherine's face contorted in surprise, as if every time he spoke back to her like this, she was shocked. But she recovered quickly, as she always did.

"Everything I do, Ernest, is only to protect you. My investigation into Miss Gundry's backstory did reveal her involvement with Lord Simon Tuberville. I know of his father, and he is a very pleasant, agreeable man. I should think he would like to know that the woman his son pined for years ago is alive and rather available."

"Mother, do not—"

"I shall certainly not have her ruin my own son's reputation," Lady Katherine hissed.

"And the marquess will not have his son marry a mere governess."

"Titles can be reinstated easily, Ernest." There was something in her tone that he did not like. Something hidden—something he could not quite identify. "Once you have had your fun and exhausted yourself in London, you shall see how right I have been this whole time."

"Right or not, I shall not ride with you. Have a pleasant time at the ball, Mother."

He shut the carriage door and called for a footman to bring around a different one.

***

The assembly hall Graham had organized for the charity ball was large and spacious, filled with nobility all in their finest, turning out to honour Archibald. The sight pleased Ernest as he walked in and immediately spotted Lady Samantha. Of course, she would be in attendance. He was taken aback by how many people surrounded her. She had thought herself shamed out of Society, but there she was, wholly accepted.

In a beautiful pale green gown, Lady Samantha looked as though she was a leaf floating through a river of sorrow, and he could only imagine how many people would have approached her, offering condolences over Archibald.

Beyond her, he noticed Graham among a group of board members, including Mr Stevens, who pointedly avoided Ernest's gaze since their squabble at the hospital a month ago.

Towards the back of the room, the Tuberville brothers watched the ballroom, talking with one another. When they noticed Ernest, Lord Simon nudged Lord Victor and urged him forwards. Lord Victor was so like his brother, only younger. A handsome face, dark hair, and green eyes, which no doubt had women fawning over. And then there was the identifiable scar on his lip.

Lord Victor glanced away, sheepish, as he approached Ernest.

"My Lord," he greeted, nodding his head.

"Ah, so you can speak," Ernest scolded. "You were not so amenable to greeting me that night on my property."

"Do not worry, Bannerdown. I am sure my brother shall be on his best behaviour. Is that not right, Victor?"

"My very best," the younger brother swore.

Ernest met Lord Simon's eye. "And what of yourself?"

"My behaviour will be perfectly honourable when it comes to Lady—Miss Gundry. We shared a past, but she has made it clear she does not wish to share a future."

Ernest nodded. "All I ask is that you respect her position as a governess. She is not the lady you once knew."

Lord Simon looked hard at Ernest. "No," he agreed. "She is not. If you will excuse us, Lord Bannerdown."

Ernest's thoughts drifted to Claire, on the arm of Lord Simon when she was much younger. He could imagine her face more youthful, her hair longer, perhaps, loose and styled as a lady's would be. Jealousy spiked through his stomach as he envisioned her in such a way, and he scowled down at the floor, chiding himself for being so foolish.

Minstrels filled the hall with music, and couples branched off to dance, but Ernest stood alone, wishing Claire was there. It was clear Lord Simon had wanted to rekindle his relationship with Claire, given his earlier comment, and Ernest could only wonder: was that her best option? Would she be safe with Lord Simon in a way she was not with him?

His stomach grew heavy as it had been when he had considered marrying a woman who was not Claire the night he had dined at Graham's house.

"Bannerdown! You should not be standing alone. Come join us!" The call came from a heavily moustached man who Ernest recognized as Lord Burdon, one of his uncle's friends. He roped Ernest into the group of five other men, all respected lords, barons, and earls. "We have been very eager to meet you, Bannerdown. We were good friends with George, all of us, old school friends, but when we heard the terrible news, we could not quite bring ourselves to visit you. But I must apologize for that. Word has spread of what you did for the viscount here tonight, along with Mr Courtenay. And Bannerdown? Your uncle would have been proud. You are becoming a fine earl, and your ward, Lady Florence, is delightful. I spoke with her briefly at the luncheon. She has a bright mind and has spoken at length of your support in her future debut."

Ernest blanched, unsure of what to say. The men noticed, and Lord Burdon clapped his back, laughing.

"Your uncle would approve of you being his heir," he told Ernest. "Do not look so afraid. You belong here."

Something inside of him eased. For so long he had relied on his mother's validation and his own hope to get through each day as an earl. But hearing it from friends of his uncle directly spurred something within him.

And they did not once pose a problem with him still working at the hospital.

"We would like to make a group donation to the wing," Lord Burdon spoke up after they discussed the monument Ernest had commissioned for Archibald. "We lost friends in the war, too, and I personally think this commemoration is wonderful."

"If you see Mr Courtenay at any point, you should address all funding with him. He is the spearhead of the wing. I am merely some decoration supporting it."

That got a few chuckles from the men, and Ernest felt a sense of belonging as he looked around for Graham.

He found him among the dancers, with none other than Lady Samantha in his arms. Ernest blinked, checking that it was who he thought it was, but no, it truly was Graham and Lady Samantha. They turned around, mingling with the other dancers, but there was no losing sight of Graham's smile and Lady Samantha's surprise, as if she could not quite imagine herself having had such a moment with Graham.

When Graham caught Ernest's eye, the man leaned into Lady Samantha, saying something quietly to her. Her face lit up, and she turned to Ernest, giving a small wave. He nodded to her, smiling, as Graham walked over.

It was the most elated Ernest had seen in his friend in a long time.

"You look rather pleased, Graham, and I do not believe it is only the guest turnout that has you in such good spirits."

"Indeed, it is not." Graham laughed. "I have danced with Lady Samantha only once, but it is enough. Through our letters and dinner the other night, after you left, we found out how much we bring laughter to one another. I have spent a long year wallowing in grief and regret, but Lady Samantha makes me laugh again, Ernest. She is delightful. If I am terribly honest, Ernest, I believe we have been trying to match the wrong people."

"If I am terribly honest with you, Graham, I had suspected such a thing even the day we met her when you both conversed very easily with one another. It is good to see how she helps you find yourself again. It is good to see you laugh once more, Graham."

His friend clasped his shoulder, nodding.

And Ernest could only think there was hope for Lady Samantha's future yet. After all, she would not have to bother with the marriage mart if Graham wished to propose to her. And by the look on his face as he looked at her, Ernest imagined it was not far from his friend's mind.

"Are you going to choose a dance partner?" Graham asked.

"I do not think so," he said. "Not tonight."

"Might I be so bold as to suggest that the only woman you would want to dance with is not in attendance?"

Ernest could not keep denying his feelings. He sighed, nodding. "You would be correct."

"Ernest, this ball is for Archibald's wing in the hospital, but you do not have to remain present all night if your mind is elsewhere. There is a library at the back of these halls, open to the public. Perhaps you might wish to take a moment in there away from the noise and the guests?"

It was a lifeline; one Ernest was grateful his friend had picked up on him needing. "Thank you, Graham."

His friend pointed him towards the library, and Ernest wandered over there, slipping away from the party.

He found himself surrounded by books, remembering the day he had sat with his cousin and Claire in the library at Little Harkwell as Claire talked Florence through Shakespeare. He remembered the look she had given him, demure and subtle, a hint of a smile as if she wanted him to chase her for more.

What would await them in London?

He strolled around the library, looking at row upon row of books, admiring the extensive medical science collection, but soon, the library door opening caught his attention.

"I shall return soon—oh, Lady Samantha. I thought you perhaps were Mr Courtenay come to retrieve me."

"I am afraid not," she answered politely. "Although I am surprised to find you here, Lord Bannerdown. I do not wish to be rude or insinuate your company is not wanted, but I was supposed to meet Lady Katherine here."

Just as Ernest's heart pounded, slowly realizing exactly what was happening, and as he was about to urge Lady Samantha to run quickly away, footsteps sounded through the hall. Voices rose to them, and Lady Samantha clearly realized the setup a moment after he did. Her eyes widened, meeting his, just as Lady Katherine appeared in the doorway, followed by a group of Ton women.

She gasped, and the women echoed as they all witnessed Ernest alone with Lady Samantha.

"Lady Samantha!" Lady Katherine cried. "I did not know you had affection for my son. And Lord Bannerdown, you know better than this! How—how could you do this to poor Lady Samantha!" Her voice was hysterical, fake in its rising pitch, drawing more and more attention to the situation.

Lady Samantha began to protest, but Lady Katherine wailed over her.

"Lord Bannerdown, I have always raised you to be dutiful! Will you dishonour this poor woman, who has already been burdened with so much? I cannot believe I have caught you in such a position!"

"Mother, lower your voice," he warned quietly.

"Are you ashamed, Lord Bannerdown?" she cried out, pressing a hand to her chest. "Lady Samantha, I must apologize for my son's shameful behaviour. How terrible I have caught Lord Bannerdown alone with you, Lady Samantha."

Ernest's jaw tightened as she raised her voice, ensuring that anyone who did not see would certainly hear.

"Mother—"

"Come, Lady Samantha. I must save your reputation while I can. I feel rather responsible for you ever since the day you strolled with Lord Bannerdown in the gardens of Little Harkwell itself."

The narration fell together in an oh-so-convenient way. Ernest watched, enraged, as Lady Samantha's wide eyes fell on him as she was tugged from the room. Oh, his mother had him exactly where she wanted him. Her smugness before the ball made sense, but his thoughts went only to Claire.

She was all he wanted, and he would not let his mother take that from him.