“The patronesses should pay more attention to the cause of all of this, rather than setting their focus on reopening,” their mother countered sharply. “You cannot tell me they did not know that someone was handing round illegal alcohol on their premises. Whenever I hear about them, they are all about piety and proper conduct, but they allowed this to happen on their own premises.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“Drinking inside Almack’s is indeed shameful,” the Earl agreed. “The patronesses should be held responsible for allowing such behavior! In fact, I have half a mind to bring it up in the House of Lords this week when I give my speech.”
Sally and Joanna exchanged a knowing glance but held their tongues, opting to let the conversation unfold without intervening. The last thing they needed was a lecture from their parents about their involvement. At the time, it didn’t seem like a bad thing to have brandy. After all, drinking was customary at virtually all the other events they attended. It was only Almack’s that refrained from serving such beverages.
Rosy, unaware of what had transpired, eagerly revealed a piece of information she had gathered. “I heard it was a young officer who brought the alcohol,” she said, her eyes alight with the thrill of scandal. “I saw several people with glasses that were filled with something other than lemonade, and it was one of those who caused the fire.”
Their father, however, corrected her with a stern expression. “No, Rosy, it was not an officer. We ought not blame those who are uninvolved, and spreading gossip is unbecoming of a lady.”
Rosy opened her mouth but snapped it shut again a second later, casting her eyes down.
“A young viscount, the son of an earl I know, was responsible,” he clarified. “That is why it is all the more important to bring this up at the House of Lords. Joanna, I have half a mind to bring up the Duke of Wells’ name, given his actions that night. I have some issue with the way he snatched you away from… Never mind that.” He fixed his gaze on Joanna. “After everything he’d been through, to dash into another fire…” He shook his head. “I think he’s the right person to speak up. I sent word but have not heard back from him. Will you speak to him?”
Another fire? What did her father mean?
Joanna opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but her mother cut her off.
“Indeed, what a wonderful idea. If not for the Duke, we might have lost you, Joanna. He ought to be honored, receive some sort of reward or commendation from the Prince Regent. How is he, Joanna?”
Her father’s words were still ringing in her ears as Joanna silently recalled the moment of distress as she’d lain on the floor, struggling to breathe, and how Kenneth had emerged from the smoke like a guardian angel. He had saved her, this muchwas true. If it were up to her, he’d receive every commendation known to man.
Alas, she had not seen him since that dreadful night.
One moment, he’d been beside her, steadying her, the next he’d disappeared. She’d looked for him in the crowd before being informed that he’d left the premises. Since then, she’d sent him a letter and two shorter messages, asking him to contact her. First, she’d done so out of concern, due to his sudden disappearance, but then she’d done it out of an increasing desperation.
She still wondered about his behavior after their dance. He’d been so absent, so cold. She’d almost thought he’d decided he no longer wanted to continue their ruse. But then, he’d stormed into a burning ballroom to save her. He wouldn’t have done such a thing if he didn’t care about her, yet she hadn’t heard from him since.
As if sensing her anxiety, Rudy licked her fingers. She had taken to not wearing her gloves indoors because the dog had a habit of licking her fingers, and she always liked it when he did, as it was a sign of affection.
“Joanna?” her mother prompted.
Joanna looked up. “I will speak to him, of course,” she said quickly.
Pleased, her parents resumed their conversation while she fell silent once again.
“Jo,” Sally whispered as she leaned in. “What are you actually going to do about His Grace?”
Sally was the only one who knew what had happened both before and after the fire—the only one who knew about the unanswered messages.
Joanna looked at her sister. “I will call on him in person,” she whispered back.
Sally’s eyebrows rose. “In person? But should you?”
Joanna took a deep breath. “I have to. I must know why he hasn’t respoded to my messages. He rescued me. If nothing else, I want to thank him, and ensure he is well.” She leaned back and wrung her hands.
It was true, she wanted to thank him, but the real reason she’d resolved to see him was one that sat heavy on her heart. She simply had to know if everything she’d thought they shared was real, or nothing but an illusion.
Kenneth pulled his banyan tighter around himself and sank into his armchair, his eyes fixed on the portrait above the fireplace.He knew every detail of the portrait, having stared at it for hours on end sometimes.
Yet, whenever he looked at it, it was as if he were seeing it for the first time. Not so much because the image was altered in some way or because he found hidden intricacies. No, it was because seeing his brother’s smiling face as they posed before a large oak tree as boys was like a fresh dagger to his heart.
Over the years, his grief for Edward had morphed. While once it had been searing and sharp, it had become quite yet ever-present. It had ingrained itself into Kenneth’s very being. It had accompanied him every step of his life, silently and manageably.
However, for the past few days, ever since the fire at Almack’s, he’d been trapped in a never-ending loop. He had relived the day he lost his brother. Immediately after, the images had changed, and his mind had conjured up a similar ending for Joanna.
He shuddered and took another sip of his whiskey—the only thing to keep the nightmares at bay. She’d written to him more than once, asking if he was hurt, asking if she could call on him. Telling him she missed him.
He hadn’t managed to reply, it was too much. If he replied, she’d in turn respond, and eventually, they’d see one another. Then, he’d have to tell her the truth.
