Chapter 5

CHAPTER5

Holding the offending scandal sheets in her hands, gripping them so tightly that the edges had creased and crumpled, Nancy’s heart lifted slightly as the familiar sight of Tillington House came into view.

“It looks more beautiful than I remember it,” Marina said softly, sticking her head out the window.

Nancy could not speak, could not think, with the incendiary papers clutched in her hands. How could she talk about the architecture of the manor and its merits when her entire life was crumbling away at the foundations with every passing hour?

“Sorry,” Marina mumbled, seeming to realize that her comment was not appropriate.

It had been three agonizing days since the ball at Lord Bainton’s manor, and the news that Nancy had dreaded had appeared on the morning of the second day—her name, plastered across the scandal sheets, beside the Duke’s. Fortunately, or unfortunately, she had decided to try and charge ahead of the gossip stampede that threatened her future and had sent word by express messenger to her mother and father the morning after the ball.

“I hope they are here,” Nancy whispered, closing her eyes.

Her letter to them had been short and to the point.

I am in dire need of your help. It is an emergency. Come as quickly as you can to Tillington.

And she was heading there with the good faith that they would, indeed, come to her aid as swiftly as possible.

“They will not abandon you,” Marina assured. “And Mama is doing all she can from London, to minimize this injustice.”

“And if nothing can be done?” Nancy asked, crestfallen.

“Do not think that way.” Marina took hold of her hand. “My mother might relish a sip of brandy or two, but when she has her wits about her, she is rather formidable. She will not cease until she has made this unpleasantness disappear.”

The moment Eliza had been sober enough to hear about the events of the ball, she had leaped into action, sending correspondence to all of her most influential friends and acquaintances. Perhaps it would lessen some of the damage in some circles, but Nancy was holding the opposite evidence in her hands.

Society reveled in gossip, and they would believe every awful word that had been written about her, leaving her reputation in tatters. Indeed, that was part of the reason she had asked to meet her family at Tillington House—her family’s seat—for she could no longer bear to be anywhere near London.

“At least it will be a familiar exile,” Nancy said as the carriage came to a halt by the front steps of the manor. “I might even ask to reside with my sister in the North. Perhaps the scandal will not have reached that far, and I will find a pleasant northern gentleman who will love me.”

Marina smiled. “That does not sound so awful.”

A footman came down the stairs to open the carriage door, but a vision in white swept past him, beating him to it. The door flew wide, and there, breathless and holding her swollen stomach, was Nancy’s sister, Joanna.

“You are here,” Joanna gasped. “You are safe now.”

Nancy stared at her sister. “What are you doing here? Are you not supposed to be resting until the baby comes? I thought—”

“Nothing could have kept me away,” Joanna insisted, opening her arms wide. “And the baby won’t be coming anytime soon. If anyone thinks I am going to be bedridden for months, they are sorely mistaken.”

Relief flooded Nancy’s chest as she fell into her sister’s embrace, hugging her tightly. “I am glad you are here. Gladder than I can say.”

“All will be well,” Joanna reassured. “I promise, all will be well.”

There was something in Joanna’s voice that made Nancy pause. She peered up at her sister. “You know already, do you not? Does that mean Mama and Father know? Have they read all of those horrible things that are simply not true?”

“I alone have seen the scandal sheets,” Joanna admitted. “You see, we arrived late last night, and the housekeeper passed them to me. I do not think she wanted Mama to see them, but I have informed Mama and Father of the gist. I thought it might be better that way.”

Nancy’s eyes filled with stinging tears. “Are they terribly disappointed in me?”

“Not in the slightest. They are incensed.”

“With me?” Nancy yelped, her heart breaking.

“No, no. Goodness, no!” Joanna assured in a rush. “They are incensed that this has happened to you and that such lies have been told. We know you, Nancy. We know that you would never do such a thing and that there has obviously been a misunderstanding. Everyone is gathered in the drawing room, so let us hear what actually happened, and then we can proceed with a plan to squash these wretched rumors.”

Nancy hesitated. “Is Bernard here?”

She adored her nephew, but the thought of that sweet child being in a house of ill repute made her uneasy.

“He is at Bruxton Hall, being spoiled rotten, no doubt, by Peggy and Mrs. Hislop,” Joanna replied. “I have never seen two people leap more ferociously at an opportunity to send a mother away. I believe I shall have to pry my son out of at least one of their arms when I return.”

Nancy exhaled. “I am sorry you have had to make arrangements.”

“Nonsense. I am happy to, and so are Peggy and Mrs. Hislop,” Joanna said with a chuckle. “They are both practically grandmothers to Bernard, and he adores them as much as they dote on him. I promise, Bernard will not even realize that Edwin and I are gone. Now, let us get you inside.” She paused, no doubt realizing that Nancy was not alone in the carriage. “And you, Marina. My goodness, I apologize for prattling away as if you were not there. It is a delight to see you again, Cousin. I only wish it could be under better circumstances.”

Marina seemed pleased to be remembered, at last. “As do I, Your Grace.”

“Joanna, please!” Joanna grimaced. “You are family. I struggle enough when strangers refer to me that way.”

Marina smiled. “Very well, Joanna.”

With that, the three ladies headed into the manor, where Nancy’s small band of eager, incensed helpers awaited.

“Oh, darling!” Nancy’s mother, Fanny Swinton, wailed as the three women entered the drawing room. She ran to Nancy, throwing her arms around her and making soft, hushing sounds to soothe her.

Nancy held her mother tightly. “I am so very sorry, Mama.”

“For what, my cherub?” Fanny cried. “You have done nothing! You are innocent, and if I must find the vile weasels who operate the scandal sheets and throttle them with my own bare hands to get them to print a redaction, I shall do it!”

Nancy smiled sadly, bolstered by the unwavering faith of her mother and sister. Not once had they asked if there was partial truth to the story, or if something similar had occurred. They knew her, they trusted in her, and if anyone could fix this, it was them.

Now, if only she could get the rest of Society to believe the truth of that night so easily.

“My aunt Peggy knows a great many people and has an alarming amount of those people’s secrets stockpiled for just such an occasion,” Edwin said from the writing desk at the far side of the room, where he appeared to be in the middle of some correspondence. Nancy’s father stood beside him. “I will send word to her and let her know of the situation. With her help, I am certain all of this will be forgotten by next week.”

Nancy’s heart warmed at the sight of her entire family coming together to defend and protect her from the scorn she did not deserve. More than ever, she wished she had gone north to stay with them all instead of insisting on enduring the Season by herself.

“Sit down, little one,” Joanna said, ushering Nancy to the settee. “Tell us everything that happened, as it happened. Leave nothing out.” She added a small wink as if to say, “But if you do leave something out that you do not want Mama and Father to hear, tell me later.”

And so, Nancy began her story, closing her eyes and remembering it all as she spoke. Her muscles clenched as she recalled the Duke grabbing her roughly, her neck tingling as she thought of that strange, brushing sensation against her skin, and her heart started to race as she recalled the way he had caught her when she had stumbled.

Of course, she blamed her pounding heart on the fear she had felt at that moment. She had to, for she was in no position to indulge in foolish notions, no matter how hard the whispers in her head tried to make her swoon.

It was not romantic. It was terrifying. And he is not a fairytale prince. He is an infamous rogue who had another lady’s petticoat draped over his arm and one of her stockings sticking out of his waistcoat!

That served its purpose, quieting the idiotic voices in her head.

“Mr. Colby followed me, I believe, and likely for nefarious reasons,” Nancy concluded. “He must be the one who informed the guests at the ball, and someone there must have informed the scandal sheets. So, while it was wrong of me to wander in the gardens without a chaperone, and not to follow Marina, that is my only transgression. I did not do what they are saying I did.”

She flinched as she thought of the awful words written in the scandal sheets, detailing a tryst that had never occurred, calling her all sorts of nasty things—brazen harlot, weak-willed, a dishonor to her family, a ruined woman. All because she had been trying to escape another scoundrel’s unwanted advances, and because her aunt could not resist the call of potent punch.

“You hit him?” Joanna’s eyes were wide, her tone impressed. “Might there be a bruise to prove it?”

Nancy shrugged. “I do not know, for I have not seen the wretch since.”

I cannot believe that I trusted him to catch Mr. Colby!

She wondered if she might have been able to talk Mr. Colby into silence if she had remained at Bainton Manor instead of running away, as the Duke had instructed.

I should not have listened to him.

“That is worth investigating,” Edwin said, coming to sit on the opposite settee. “If there is a bruise, and we can insist on the Duke telling the truth, then I believe we may have our solution. After all, it is not as if a known rogue like that would have any reason to lie. He has graced the pages of the scandal sheets a hundred times or more, so it might actually hold weight if he were to state that you were not one of his… um…” He blushed slightly.

Joanna nodded. “Exactly! That shall be our plan.”

“You might not be able to find him,” Nancy’s father, Nicholas Swinton, said quietly. He looked somewhat shamefaced. “If he is aware of the scandal, which he undoubtedly is, he has likely hidden himself away. After all, it is not his reputation that will be smeared by it. He will just take cover, wait for it to blow over, then continue as if nothing happened.”

His was the painful voice of wisdom, for he had weathered enough affairs and indiscretions of his own, until almost two years ago. Since then, he had done his best to be the father and husband that he should have been all along, but that did not mean he had forgotten what it was like to be a scoundrel.

“And where would such a man hide?” Joanna prodded.

Nicholas shrugged. “I would not know. His residence seems unlikely, but perhaps the residence of a friend.” He cleared his throat. “If memory serves, the Duke of Stapleton is firm friends with Mr. Harold Armitage, otherwise known as Wild Harry. They were rarely without one another at the gentlemen’s clubs.” He offered an apologetic, sideways glance to his wife, who reached for his hand and squeezed it.

“If this can help us to help Nancy, all is well,” Fanny told him softly, repeating her forgiveness.

Joanna pursed her lips. “Might you venture to London to find out his whereabouts?”

“If it is asked of me, I will do it,” Nicholas replied, smiling encouragingly at Nancy, who sat there, listening and observing and feeling thoroughly overwhelmed by it all.

How could one evening have changed her life so dramatically?

She sat back against the cushions as her family continued to discuss what sounded like a military intervention, talking across her as if she was not there at all. She preferred it, in truth, for she rather wished that she could just disappear for a while and that, when she came back, her predicament would be over and all would be well again.

“It goes without saying that one of us ought to pay a visit to Mr. Colby,” Joanna continued, her tone sour. “I might echo my sister’s sentiments and punch him in the nose, see if that is not enough to get him to undo what he has done.”

Nancy winced. “I really am sorry for causing all of this trouble.”

“Nonsense! It is the Duke and Mr. Colby who ought to be sorry,” Joanna replied sternly. “And Aunt Eliza. But at least she is trying to make amends.”

Fanny pressed a handkerchief to her nose and blew into it. “I am very disappointed in my sister. I should never have put you into her care, Nancy.” She glanced at Marina. “Apologies, Marina, I do not mean to speak ill of your mother, but… I cannot deny that I am exceedingly vexed.”

“Do not apologize,” Marina insisted. “I quite agree with you. Perhaps this will be a harsh lesson for her, though I am also sorry that I wandered off to look at those cygnets. I truly thought Nancy was nearby.”

Joanna shook her head. “Every lady should be safe to walk anywhere alone if she wants to, without fear of being accosted or pursued or hounded by unwelcome intruders.” She puffed out a breath. “I know society will never agree with me, but still… neither one of you is at fault for this.”

“Nevertheless,” Nancy murmured, her heart sinking, “what if this cannot be fixed? What if I am shunned forev—”

The jangle of a bell paused her downward spiral into doom and gloom, snapping everyone’s attention toward the drawing room door, as if they were expecting someone. But Nancy only had to glance around to know that everyone who should have been there was already in the house. Surely, no one would be visiting the Swintons during such a tumultuous time, not unless they wished to offer commiserations.

Or marriage…

Nancy’s stomach churned with unease, her thoughts darting toward Mr. Colby. After all, what else would that vile man have to gain from ruining her reputation? If he could succeed in making her unmarriageable, he could make an offer to “save” her from perpetual spinsterhood and Society’s scorn.

She did not know why she had not thought of it before. Likely, because it was much too horrible to consider.

A few moments later, the butler entered. “There is a gentleman at the door, My Lord,” he said, addressing only Nicholas.

Nancy’s heart lurched. “What sort of gentleman? Did he give his name?”

“He did.” The butler paused. “But he asked to speak solely with His Lordship. I have shown him into your study, My Lord.”

Nicholas stood, frowning. “Leave this to me, Nancy. Whoever it is, I shall ensure they are quickly sent away.”

But as her father walked to the drawing room door, Nancy shot up and hurried to follow, her troubled mind swirling with awful thoughts of Mr. Colby.

“I shall tend to this,” Nicholas insisted, trying to block her path.

She pushed past him. “Not until I have seen who it is.”

And if it is who I think it is, Ishall be the one to send him away with his backside stinging from the whipping I intend to give him!

She was already imagining all the things she hoped to say to that toady, disgusting, little man. Even if her reputation could not be salvaged, she would at least have that satisfaction.