Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

D ucking into the ballroom, Gwen hoped her absence hadn’t been noted. She’d told her mother she was going to the retiring room and had left with alacrity to avoid any discussion or her mother accompanying her. She still felt flushed and quivery after her encounter with Lazarus.

That had been truly scandalous, but she didn’t regret a moment of it. Indeed, she would race right back into his arms if she could.

As she looked about for her mother, she saw Min and Ellis coming toward her. They looked…intent, especially Min.

“There you are,” Min said without preamble. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I was in the retiring room, then I went outside. I was feeling a trifle overheated.” It was as good an excuse as anything.

“You may wish you’d stayed outside,” Ellis said ominously.

Gwen tensed. She glanced around them and realized several people were looking in her direction. Had she not situated her gown correctly after her interlude with Lazarus? Panic streaked through her, as she glanced down at her skirts. They were exactly as they should be, hanging to the floor. Gwen swept her hands over her backside to make sure nothing was wrong there either. Thankfully, all felt right.

Min ushered them to the edge of the ballroom. She spoke in a low, urgent tone. “There is a rumor racing through the ballroom that you have been carrying on a liaison with Somerton.”

Gwen’s neck prickled at the notion that everyone was talking about it, but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t known it was coming. Honestly, her parents should have let her stay at home tonight. Except, if she had, she would not have spent that wondrous time with Lazarus.

“The gossip is that you’ve been meeting him at Tamsin’s house, which you have,” Ellis said with a slight grimace.

“But not to carry on an affair,” Gwen said. “He was helping me with dancing and how to better converse with prospective suitors.” She couldn’t reveal the real reason and would let her reputation wither and die before she did.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Min observed.

Not surprised, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t tense now that the gossip had started. “Eberforce wrote to my parents about it this afternoon. He alleged the affair because he’s observed us both calling on the Droxfords’ around the same time. He can’t have seen us actually meeting one another, however. Indeed, I don’t know how he even knows we were there at the same times.”

Min frowned deeply. “He lives on the same street as Tamsin. He likely saw you both arriving and leaving and made up a story that would be damaging to you. He is the absolute worst rogue ever .”

“I would call him out if I could,” Ellis said with a sneer.

“And if he were smart, he’d refuse and apologize,” Min replied firmly. She glanced toward Gwen. “Ellis is rather good with a pistol, if you didn’t know.”

“You are both such dear friends,” Gwen told them with a smile, though she was uncomfortably aware of a good number of people starting at her. “Do you know if people believe this rumor? Or do they know Eberforce started it? I’d like to think people would recognize that he has an ulterior motive.”

Min gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m not sure they all know that about Eberforce. His treatment of you after the Almack’s incident was not common knowledge. However, everyone is aware of Somerton’s reputation, so as soon as they hear he was having a liaison with someone, they are, probably, inclined to believe it. I’m sorry, Gwen.”

Should she tell them what Lazarus had said to her? That he loved her and wanted to marry her? She was nervous to do so, afraid Min would say he wasn’t being honest, that he was a rogue. Instead, she decided to tell them what her father was doing to combat the rumor. “My father sent word to Markwith asking if he would like to negotiate a marriage settlement.”

Min’s and Ellis’s eyes rounded as they gaped at her. “Is that what you want?” Ellis asked.

“No,” Gwen admitted. “I don’t love him.” She glanced toward Ellis, who gave her a quick, faint smile of encouragement. That small action bolstered Gwen more than anything else could have in that moment.

“Are you going to marry him?” Min asked.

“I don’t want to.” But Gwen also struggled with defying her parents. She wasn’t sure she could. And yet, she loved Lazarus and would do anything she could to be with him. She only hoped that would be possible.

A very pretty young woman with reddish-blonde hair approached them. Something about her was vaguely familiar, but Gwen didn’t think they’d met. The woman’s lips lifted in a brief, tentative smile. “Miss Price?”

“Yes,” Gwen responded as Min and Ellis looked toward the interloper.

“May I speak with you?” She glanced at Min and Ellis, but quickly refocused on Gwen, her expression expectant.

Gwen tried to think of how she might know this woman, but nothing was coming to her. Before she could think of how to respond, the woman added, “Please. It’s urgent. I would not bother you if it were not deeply important. Please.”

Her repetition of the word “please” along with the words “urgent” and “deeply important” gave Gwen pause. She could listen to this woman for a moment or two. “Certainly.”

Min’s jaw tightened and she took a step forward, as if she would block the young woman. Gwen looked to her and met her gaze. She gave her head a tiny shake and mouthed, It’s all right .

Gwen moved toward the unknown woman with a pleasant smile and walked with her along the edge of the ballroom. “I’m afraid I don’t know you.”

“I am Miss Melissa Worsley. My grandfather is the Viscount Haverstock.”

“My grandfather is also a viscount,” Gwen said. “How coincidental.”

“I didn’t realize that,” Miss Worsley murmured. “Do you mind if we step outside? I’ll be brief.” Miss Worsley walked out through one of the open doors, and Gwen had no choice but to follow her.

Actually, she did have a choice. She could abandon her and return to her friends. But she did not. There was a shadow in the woman’s eyes that provoked Gwen’s concern.

Outside, Gwen shivered in the night air. It hadn’t felt that cold after she’d left Lazarus’s arms.

Suddenly, she remembered where she’d seen Miss Worsley before. She was the young woman Lazarus had been speaking with at the park yesterday.

“I won’t prevaricate,” Miss Worsley said, her shoulders twitching as a cool breeze swept over them. “Forgive me for my frankness, and I do apologize for how this news will probably shock you. I am carrying Lord Somerton’s child.”

If Gwen hadn’t been chilled before, she would be now. Ice frosted her veins and cloaked her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself, but there was no warmth anywhere. She tried to think clearly, but it was difficult. Then it struck her—why was this woman telling her this?

“Who are you?” Gwen said, though she knew the woman’s name. What she should have asked was who she was to Lazarus. Except Gwen didn’t really want to know.

His hesitation and inability to offer for her crystallized and now made sense. Miss Worsley and her child were his “reasons.” He was going to be a father.

But he’d also said he loved Gwen.

The woman spoke. “I met Somerton at a house party last autumn.”

Autumn? And he hadn’t married her before now? Gwen felt sick. “I’m so sorry.” Lazarus really was a rogue, and a rather despicable one at that.

“It has been difficult,” Miss Worsley said quietly. “I’ve been ill. Indeed, I just told Somerton yesterday, and I did wonder at his hesitation. However, now that I hear he has been carrying on a liaison with you, I understand. I wanted to ask you to please let him marry me. I realize I am asking a great deal, particularly if you genuinely care for one another, but I need his protection.”

Gwen was relieved to hear Lazarus hadn’t known about the babe until yesterday. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell him sooner.”

Dark pink stained Miss Worsley’s finely sculpted cheeks. “I confess I didn’t know until my mother worked it out. As I said, I was ill. I was also incredibly naive.”

Though Gwen wanted to tell the woman that she and Lazarus were not having a liaison, she realized it wasn’t really true. They might not have been meeting secretly to conduct a love affair at the Droxfords’, but they were now. Or they had been. Gwen realized that was over.

He had to marry Miss Worsley. There was simply no other acceptable outcome. Even if he loved Gwen.

Despite his behavior, her heart ached for him. How could it not when she loved him so? He’d carried a tortured look in his gaze, which she understood now. He didn’t want to marry Miss Worsley, and it seemed he might be trying to find a way out of doing so. He’d told Gwen that if she could wait, he might be able to marry her. What was he expecting would change?

“I’m dreadfully sorry for the position you are in,” Gwen said. “However, I don’t think I can help you. Somerton will choose his path.” But she could encourage him to do the right thing. To not be a rogue.

“I understand. I’m only asking for you to step aside, to free him to wed me as he must.”

Gwen could tell him there was no chance with her, that she would marry Markwith. The joy she’d felt a short while ago in his arms melted away like snow beneath the sun. Only, there was no sun here. No brightness at all. Just a deep and lingering sadness for the love Gwen couldn’t have.

“If I can, I will advocate for you to him. I may not have that chance, though.”

Miss Worsley nodded. “I appreciate anything you can do to aid my cause.” She touched her abdomen, and Gwen could just make out the curve of her belly as her gown briefly went taut. “Our cause,” Miss Worsley amended with a small smile.

A sob rose in Gwen’s throat. Agony and jealousy and despair shot through her. She bit the inside of her lip as another chill made her body quiver.

“It is rather cold,” Gwen said, her voice sounding hollow. “You must go back inside.” While Gwen was eager to go back in too, she didn’t want to enter the ballroom with the mother of Lazarus’s child.

“I will. Good evening.” Miss Worsley turned, her gown swirling about her ankles as she made her way into the ballroom.

Gwen looked about for another door. There was one farther down—toward the refreshments away from the dancing. As she walked briskly toward the door, she didn’t know what was worse: returning to the ballroom to face the rumors churning about her and Lazarus, or returning to the ballroom knowing the man she loved had fathered a child with someone else. Either way, she would have to smile and laugh, and make hideous chitchat.

Once inside, she looked for her mother. There was no way Gwen was staying.

She located her mother, who saw her at the same moment. Her features flickered with both surprise and concern, and she immediately made her way toward Gwen.

Gwen did not move from the edge of the ballroom, however. That would bring her into contact with too many people. Gwen couldn’t bear their judgmental stares.

“There you are,” Min said, arriving at Gwen’s side with Ellis. “Who was that woman, and what did she want?”

Gwen’s mother was bearing down on her. “I can’t explain now. We’ll meet at your house tomorrow afternoon. I must go.”

Both Min and Ellis looked alarmed. “We love you,” Min said. “Everything will be all right.” They smiled and exchanged a brief greeting with Gwen’s mother before departing.

“Mama, I am unwell.” Indeed, Gwen still felt chilled to the bone. And horribly queasy. “I need to go home.”

“I can see you are pale,” her mother said with concern. “Let us go. I was going to suggest we leave anyway. The rumor about you and Somerton has overtaken the ball. I’d no idea it would spread like that.” She looped her arm through Gwen’s and steered her toward the nearest doorway to exit the ballroom. “I’m so sorry, my dearest. But everything will be all right.”

Her mother’s assurances and the echo of her friend’s words did nothing to ease Gwen’s turmoil. For one thing was absolutely certain: everything would not be all right.

A fter a mostly sleepless night, Lazarus ought to have dragged himself to church where he could have prayed for his debauched soul. Instead, he’d prayed for an impossibly quick return of Shefford’s man.

In the early afternoon, his butler announced the arrival of Mrs. Worsley. Lazarus’s insides turned to mush. He’d written to her yesterday, but he hadn’t received a response. And now she’d come in person.

“Show her to the drawing room,” Lazarus managed as he stood from his favorite chair in his study and paced about the room for a few minutes. Had she come to agree to his request for more time? He’d been purposely vague in the missive, saying only that he needed more time to respond and that he wasn’t sure he believed what her daughter had disclosed to him.

Bracing himself, he strode upstairs to the drawing room. He paused at the threshold and saw that Mrs. Worsley stood in front of the windows that overlooked the street below. She was petite and curvaceous, with a generous bosom. Her hair was the same reddish blonde as her daughter’s, but her features were harsher, her nose longer.

“You’ve an excellent situation here in Mayfair,” she noted with a smile. “Your house is splendid. My Melissa will be an excellent hostess here.” She spoke confidently and, if he were honest, almost arrogantly.

“Thank you, Mrs. Worsley. May I presume you’ve come in response to my note?” He didn’t invite her to sit. He hoped she wouldn’t be staying very long.

“Indeed, I have, and I must decline your request. You must understand there can be no delay in your marriage. The ceremony must take place with due haste. This week, in fact.”

“There must be a delay,” Lazarus said, working to keep a tight grip on his patience. “I am not the father of your daughter’s unborn child, and I will prove it.”

Mrs. Worsley appeared indignant. “Of course you are.”

“We were never together at the fox-hunting party. I’m sorry to say, but she has confused me with someone else.” That was the politest he could think to say that Miss Worsley had fabricated his involvement.

Mrs. Worsley exhaled, and her cheeks flushed. “She has not confused you. I don’t understand your insistence that you weren’t together. My daughter is not mistaken. She is lovely and beautiful. She will be a wonderful viscountess for you. Furthermore, you need to wed. If you do not marry Melissa, your reputation will be ruined. Already, it is stained because you’ve apparently been carrying on with another unmarried young lady. If your marriage to Melissa weren’t necessary, I doubt I would support you as her groom.”

“That gossip isn’t true,” he growled. At least it hadn’t been until yesterday. Did his previous kisses with Gwen at the salon and the tutoring session count?

“I suppose I’m relieved to hear that. I would prefer my daughter marry someone without the reputation of an absolute blackguard.”

He gave her a tight, humorless smile. “And yet, you’re perfectly happy to have her wed a mere rake, which I think you’ll agree I am. Or rogue, if you prefer that term.”

“I’m happy for her to become the Viscountess Somerton. That is the only outcome I will accept.” She pursed her thin lips at him. “I do hope you will not force us to make this into a scandal.”

“I am not forcing you to do anything. I think you’ll find the coercion is coming entirely from one direction.” His patience was nearing its end. He took a step toward her and studied her intently. “Who did this to your daughter? Because it wasn’t me. He should be made to account for his actions.”

“It was you,” she insisted, though her eyes darted toward the window for the barest moment.

“Was it someone she can’t wed? A footman or a married man? If someone took advantage of her, you can bring him up on charges?—”

“Do not advise me on what we are able to do,” she snapped, sneering at him. “You will be the one to marry her. I will expect you to call tomorrow. If you do not, my husband will be calling on you by nightfall. He knew your father, you know.”

The mention of Lazarus’s father turned his blood cold. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your father was a good and honorable man. He would hate to see how you’ve debauched women without a care.”

Nothing she said could have hurt him more. His father’s love had been a constant in Lazarus’s life, even after he’d died. To think he would be disappointed in his son nearly drowned Lazarus in grief and regret. The sensation was nearly identical to how he felt when he thought of Gwen learning about this. And of course it would be—Gwen had believed in him and supported him in ways no one had since his father. It only made sense that he valued her opinion of him more than anyone else’s. He would hate to see the pride and admiration for him in her gaze replaced with disgust and disappointment.

But he had already vowed to change the way he lived. Furthermore, nothing Mrs. Worsley said would convince him he’d taken advantage of her daughter. “I didn’t bed your daughter,” he said quietly. “And I think you know that.”

Sniffing, she lifted her chin. “I think you know that it doesn’t matter once everyone thinks you did. Please do what you must—call tomorrow and marry Melissa. You will not be unhappy.”

Mrs. Worsley swept past him and left the drawing room.

Lazarus went to a chair and gripped the back. He needed to find the father of this child. Perhaps then he could force something—he could ensure Melissa married the man who’d used her and tossed her aside.

Only, he feared it wouldn’t be happy for her. And for that, he was sorry.

But Lazarus was not going to pay for that man’s sins. Even if his reputation made him an easy target.