It took some moments for James to understand what she meant, but when the realization dawned, it was as if he had been catapulted back against the wall of his drawing room. He stared at her, hardly breathing, but she did not so much as glance up at him.
“Explained…?”
“I was required to pretend to be one of the young women working at that establishment.” There was no strength to her voice now, as if it might fade away at any moment. “I was to demand that you sign the vowel, knowing that I was asking more from you than you ought to have ever given, knowing that what was being implied had not taken place. And I did so for the sake of my sister.”
So many feelings rushed upon James that for many minutes, he simply sat and stared. The door opened and a tray of refreshments was brought in, but still, he said nothing. In fact, it was Lord Stoneleigh who insisted that, once the servants had left the room again, the ladies pour themselves something, commenting on just how strong a character the elder Miss Shaw had to not only do as she had done, but also now to speak so honestly of it. Thereafter, Lord Stoneleigh got up and fetched a brandy for himself and one for James, pressing it into his hand. That action forced James from his stupor, and he dragged in what felt like a much-needed breath, his lungs screaming. A sip of his brandy helped him regain himself further, and he closed his eyes, discovering a fierce anger burning in his chest.
“It was you.” The hoarseness of his voice scratched around the room, burning through the silence which had drawn itself into the space between them all. “You were the one who was there that evening. You lied to me! You made me believe that I had come there of my own volition, that I had broken the vow I had made to myself. How could you do such a thing? How could you be so unfeeling and inconsiderate? It is clear that you knew the burden you placed upon me, and yet you did so regardless. Did you feel no guilt? No shame over your actions? I have found myself wondering where we had met before, perhaps thinking that it was my heart becoming interested in your company, but now I realizewhyI felt such things. It is because wehavemet before, but only under circumstances that you had no wish to reveal to me.”
Miss Shaw finally lifted her head. Her eyes were swimming with tears, but she did not let any of them fall. Her gaze was steady and fixed on his, and as she took in a deep breath, James’ soul filled with guilt. Guilt that he had said such things to her when it was clear to him that she herself had been suffering a great deal.
“Yes, Lord Pottinger. That was I. I have been desperate to avoid your company and yet you have been so very present these last few weeks. My guilt has been so great that I have tried to hide from you. I can only tell you how sorry I am, but I was forced into this action. I know precisely what that vowel will do to you. You say that I have no consideration for you, but that is not the case. I thought only of my sister and the difficulties which would face her, should this man reveal what she had done. I did not know exactly what it was that this wicked man was to demand of me until I arrived at that dreadful bawdy house, but when he did, I at first tried my best to remove myself from the situation. I told him that I could not do such a thing, and he reminded me again of the consequences of refusing him. What could I have done? What wouldyouhave done in this situation, Lord Pottinger, if it was your own dear sister who had been so cruelly taken in? Would you not have done anything you could to protect her?”
James huffed out a heavy breath, coupling his hands and then leaning so far forward that his head almost touched them. The truth was that yes, he probably would have done precisely the same, but the injury to his soul felt so great that he could not yet forgive the lady.
“I need to think.”
His response was brusque and immediately both sisters rose to their feet.
“Yes, of course. We quite understand.” The younger Miss Shaw spoke for them both, as the elder simply forced her eyes downwards, her cup of tea untouched on the table in front of her. James looked back at them moodily, his hands clasped still. “We shall take our leave. The only thing I shall beg of you, Lord Pottinger, is not to disgrace my sister. If you have any desire to speak openly of what has occurred, then pray put my name on all of this, rather than that of my sister. She has endured enough already and has given so much of herself that I cannot allow her to suffer even more.”
It was Lord Stoneleigh who answered, perhaps worrying that James would speak much too harshly. He immediately rose to his feet.
“You need not have any fear about that. As I have said, both Lord Pottinger and I are gentlemen of honor. What you have discussed with us this afternoon will remain solely between us. There will be no disgrace, no shame, nothing further for either of you to endure.”
James closed his eyes as the young ladies took their leave. It was only as he felt the soft swish of their passing that he forced himself to lift his head. Miss Tara Shaw had stopped directly in front of him. Her eyes looked down into his, eyes that he had often thought of these last few weeks. Was that attraction, that desire to draw close, something which had come only because of their previous connection, which had remained unknown to him until this moment, or was there something more?
“Despite my sister’s words, you may pass judgment on me in whatever way you see fit,” she told him, her gaze direct and her words firm, despite the glistening in her eyes. “I am all too aware of how much I deserve your judgment. I am truly sorry for injuring you so. I have confessed the truth to you in the hope that you might be able to use what I have said to discover the man who did such a wicked thing as this – to all of us. And if you cannot, then my guilt will remain with me for the rest of my days, and I will bear the burden gladly.”
James held her gaze steadily, but she simply turned and walked from the room, leaving him to watch her go, as his heart felt heavier with every step she took.
Chapter Eight
“Icannot go out tonight.”
“But you must!” Mary came towards her, reaching out to grip her hands with hers. “To remain at home would not be wise. You will only find yourself struggling with more discontent, more melancholy, more fear. It is better to come out and remain in society so that your thoughts are a little diverted.”
“But what if Lord Pottinger should be there?” Even saying his name brought tears to her eyes. “I do not think I can face him.”
“If he is there, then you shall see and speak with him as you normally would,” her sister replied, firmly. “Tara, you have been incredibly brave already. This is only a little thing that is asked of you now. Lord Pottinger and Lord Stoneleigh gave us their assurance that nothing untoward would be said about either of us. That should rein in your fear a little, at the very least.”
Tara shook her head, saying nothing. She had been entirely unable to forget the look on Lord Pottinger’s face as she had left the room. He had appeared suddenly haggard, staring at her as though he had never really seen her before. How diminished she must be in his eyes now! She was unable to explain it, but that seemed to mean a great deal to her. How she longed for him to understand and accept the reasons behind her actions, and yet she feared that such a thing would never be. He would blame her for everything which had happened since that night, would hold her accountable for the situation he now found himself in, and she would have nothing to say in her defense. She was, of course, entirely responsible. Had she refused, then perhaps none of this would have taken place.
But Mary would have suffered a great deal.
“I must insist.” Mary let go of her hands. “You are already dressed and prepared. I understand your fear, but I must beg of you to come out with me. I truly believe it will be for the best.”
Tara bit her lip. The thought of seeing Lord Pottinger again was almost too much to bear, but then the awareness that her sister would be left without a chaperone, should she step out without Tara and only with their father, brought itself forcefully to her mind, and she closed her eyes.
“I will go, but only if we do not make ourselves prominent. I have no wish to be amongst society this evening. I do so only for your benefit.”
Opening her eyes, she saw that her sister was smiling, even though her gaze remained steady with determination.
“Very well. I can accept that, and if Lord Pottingerispresent, then you and I will face him together. You did the right thing in speaking with him, I can assure you of that.”
“If only I did not feel so much remorse, then perhaps I might be a little less afraid,” Tara replied, blinking back tears. “I have injured him so severely. I wish that there was more I could do to free him from the circumstances I placed upon his shoulders.”
“You must not carry the weight of all of this yourself,” Mary replied, turning and catching Tara’s hand so that she might lead her from the room. “Nothing that took place was your fault. I am sure that Lord Pottinger will see that in time.”
