Elaine flew forward, squeezing herself between Michael and James. She didn’t care that there were so many onlookers. “James, you cannot!”
James didn’t even glance at her. “I have no choice, Elaine.”
“Yes, you do,” Lorna chimed in, her voice firm. “And so do you, Your Grace.”
The implications behind her words were heavy. And Michael was silent. Elaine ignored the sharp stab of hurt at that fact, fighting back her tears as she faced her cousin again. “James, enough. It will only make matters worse.”
“Being here is what is making matters worse,” Lorna said as she gathered Elaine in her arms.
James didn’t move. He continued staring Michael down, his hands fisted at his sides.
“James, please,” Elaine pleaded again, her voice finally cracking.
That moved him. He tore his gaze away from Michael and finally took her in. Elaine let her guard down. She let him see how fragile she was at that moment, how broken she felt at the fact that she had ruined her reputation for a gentleman who seemed to prefer getting in a duel than asking for her hand in marriage. She’d let herself fall in love with a man who could not love her back. The only thing she wanted to do now was throw herself in bed and cry until there was nothing left in her.
But she couldn’t cry now. Not in front of so many people. Not in front of Michael. She needed to hold on to whatever semblance of pride she had left.
James nodded as if he understood, his jaw ticking. With one last scathing glance at Michael, he turned to leave. He shielded Elaine as much as he could as they took their leave but the damage was done. The Ton would be talking about this for weeks to come, perhaps for the rest of the Season. She was ruined. Her family’s reputation was ruined.
It was over.
Chapter Eighteen
At the rate he was going, Michael was certain he would have to replace the rug soon. His feet were soon to wear a hole into it since he could not stop pacing back and forth. His hair stood on end from constantly raking his fingers through it. He had drunk half a new bottle of whiskey in the half hour he’d spent pacing in his study. And he was no closer to settling his erratic thoughts.
“Perhaps we should leave him alone.”
Michael didn’t glance over at Clarissa at the suggestion. He wasn’t even sure why she—or his aunt and uncle for that matter —were there. Due to his slip, the ball had ended early and they’d found him in here, yet said nothing. They only watched in silence as he drove himself insane.
“Michael,” Beatrice spoke at last. “Why don’t you have a seat so that we may discuss this?”
“There is nothing to discuss,” he said, a bit harsher than he had intended.
“On the contrary,” Henry spoke up. “I think there is a lot to discuss. Your aunt had to end the ball early because of your actions.”
“No one asked her to do that.”
“You did not give her much of a choice,” Henry spoke calmly, though there was no denying his frustration with the matter. “How do you expect us to continue when all anyone will be able to talk about is the fact that you were fondling an unmarried lady out on the terrace? Goodness, it was almost as if you wanted to get caught.”
“I’m sure he did not mean for that to happen,” Clarissa chimed in, her worry evident in her voice.
“Of course, I did not mean for that to happen!” Michael snapped. Needing to chase away the ugly feelings creeping over him, he made for the whiskey again.
“I think you have had enough, Michael,” Beatrice said gently.
“I decide when I have had enough.”
“Michael!”
He downed the glass in one go, then set the glass down with such force, it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. “I do not need your judgment right now, Aunt Beatrice. I am well aware of my wrongdoings tonight.”
“Oh, I know you are aware,” Beatrice shot back. This was more like her. Michael didn’t know her to be so gentle when angry. Shouting was far more normal for her to do. “Your pacing a hole in the floor and getting drunk in less than an hour clearly indicates your awareness of the matter. What I am not certain of is whether you understand what you need to do to fix it.”
“I do not wish to hear it.”
“I am going to say it all the same.” Beatrice advanced on him. “You must ask Lady Elaine for her hand in marriage.”
Michael gritted his teeth, hands opening and closing at his side.
