“Charity,” she said, “Peter told me why nobody will dance with you. It is dreadful.”
“What has happened?” Charity demanded. “Do not leave me in suspense. Why am I being treated as though I carry some dreadful disease?”
“It seems there are rumors flying about,” Millie said quietly, “that are damaging your reputation.”
“Damaging my reputation? I have not been in London long enough to have a reputation, good or bad!”
“That is what I thought, too, but it seems talk of the town is that one of the reasons you moved to London permanently was because of some less than proper behavior up north. It is said that you are somewhat of a dashing cyprian.”
Charity gasped. “Who says such things about me? It is not true! You know it is not!”
“Of course!” Millie said, placing a hand on Charity’s arm. “I know it isn’t true, but someone is spreading these rumors. There is word of a rather unsavory dalliance with an Irish revolutionary.”
Millie saw that Charity's feet were going to give out from under her. “I do not know any Irishman!”
“Someone else told Peter they heard a story about you attempting to run off to Gretna Green with a stable hand.” Millie’s expression was one of pity—while Charity’s breathing increased in pace with her anger.
“What?” Charity exclaimed louder than she intended, and immediately, people started looking at her again. She felt the color rising in her cheeks.
“None of this is true! I haven’t even been kissed yet!” she said. “Why would people say such things? Who started this rumor?”
Millie ran her tongue over her lips and glanced over her shoulder, scanning the ballroom. Then she paused, her eyes focusing on someone.
“I cannot prove it,” she said, “but Peter said two different people were spreading the stories all over the ballroom before we arrived, and they are both friends with Lord Markham.”
Markham, of course. Of course he would do this to her. He was upset that she had slighted him. Did he think that if he tarnished her reputation enough, she would marry him out of desperation? That she would fling herself into his arms, begging for mercy?
“What can I do, Millie? What can I do? Can we leave?”
“Perhaps we should,” Millie conceded. “The trouble is, if we leave now, the rumors will only intensify. I do not know what we can do. My plan to get you out of this courtship with Markham hinged on you having another suitor, but if nobody else will even dance with you, I do not know what to do.”
“I will leave,” Charity declared. “I will get into a carriage and throw myself at the mercy of my cousin Oliver. He is rarely ever at Pembroke. He will let me stay there, as it is empty. I will tell him how dreadfully I have been treated, and he will take mercy on me.”
“Will he? Does he not have a daughter who is only a few years younger than us? She will be looking for a husband soon, and if there’s a scandal attached to the family name, that might be bad for her, too. I do not know what to say. Perhaps you should consider?—”
She didn’t have to finish the sentence because Charity already knew what Millie meant. She might have to consider marrying Markham. But no, she wouldn’t. She didn’t want him even if he properly proposed to her, and she certainly wouldn’t if he attempted to trick her. Besides, perhaps it wasn’t him. Perhaps it was somebody else. Perhaps she had been mistaken.
“Lady Charity,” Markham's voice came from behind them, causing her to take a breath. Here he was.
“What a pleasure to see you again! And you, too, Lady Millie,” he greeted her cousin, who looked at him through narrowed eyes.
“Lord Markham,” Millie said, “so we meet again.”
“I do not wish to be too forward,” he said with a smile, “but I wondered if over the last few hours you had a chance to discuss my proposal?”
“Your proposal?” Charity echoed, eyes wide.
“Well, yes,” he smiled. “Your mother told me to give you time and that you might have changed your mind by now.”
Charity hesitated. “I have had time to consider and I have not changed my mind.”
“You have not?” His smile faltered. “You have spoken to your mother and cousin?”
“She has,” Millie said. “I support whatever decision she makes. I do not think it is right that my cousin be pushed into a marriage she does not want, by any means.”
Eternally grateful for her cousin, Charity took Millie’s hand.
“We were just leaving,” she said, and without waiting for a reply, she started walking, her heels clicking over the polished floor. People parted before them to let them through, and it was only then that she realized a small circle of spectators had formed around them.
