“Oh no!” Jane exclaimed.
“Where were you?” Samantha asked, turning her sharp gaze on her sister. “Lord Ashford said you’d been gone for fifteen minutes.”
Jane’s cheeks flushed. “I… I thought I might be getting my courses. I was afraid of staining my dress, so I went to check. But it was a false alarm.”
“This is precisely what I mean,” Lord Norfeld said heavily. “Natural concerns that any young woman might have, but in the current climate, every absence will be scrutinized, every action questioned. Thetonis ruthless when it comes to scandal, and this…” He shook his head. “This is precisely the kind of gossip that destroys reputations.”
“Uncle, you must believe me,” Samantha said. “I’m telling the truth about what happened.”
“I believe you,” he said quietly. “But belief and proof are different things. And unfortunately, theton’simagination prefers scandal involving certain characters, this one involving anotorious rakeand a ‘spinster’, rather than respectable married lords and ladies.”
The carriage came to a stop before their front door, and they climbed out in heavy silence. Once inside, their uncle led them to his study, where he poured himself a generous glass of brandy.
“How will we handle this?” he asked, more to himself than to them.
“We’ll weather it,” Samantha said with more confidence than she felt. “Gossip dies down eventually.”
“Not this kind of gossip,” Lord Norfeld said grimly. “Not when it involves a duke.”
A knock at the front door interrupted them. The butler appeared in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral.
“My lord,” he said, “the Duke of Valemont requests an audience.”
Uncle William’s eyebrows rose. “At this hour? I thought we had agreed on the morning.”
“He says it’s urgent, my lord.”
Lord Norfeld glanced at his nieces, then nodded. “Show him in.”
The duke entered the study with his usual commanding presence, but Samantha noticed lines of tension around his eyes. He bowed formally to her uncle.
“Lord Norfeld. I apologize for the lateness of the hour, but I felt this matter required immediate attention.”
“Your Grace,” Norfeld said carefully. “I had expected to see you tomorrow morning.”
“I prefer to address problems directly rather than allow them to fester.” The duke’s gaze flickered to Samantha, then back to her uncle. “I’ve come to confirm Lady Samantha’s account of this evening’s events.”
“You needn’t—” Samantha began, but he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Lady Samantha spoke the truth. We encountered Lady Willington and Lord Eastwich in a compromising position, and she deflected suspicion by falsely accusing us.” His voice was matter-of-fact, but Samantha could see the tension in his shoulders. “However, I recognize that theton’simagination prefers scandals involving certain characters.”
“Your Grace,” Lord Norfeld said slowly, “while I appreciate your honesty, I’m not certain how this helps our situation.”
“It doesn’t,” the duke said bluntly. “Which is why I’m here to propose a solution.”
The room fell silent. Samantha felt her heart begin to race, because she was certain she would not like this… ‘solution’, as he put it.
“I offer for Lady Samantha’s hand in marriage.” He said, tone solemn.
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Samantha stared at him, her mind reeling.
“Absolutely not,” she said, finding her voice at last. “That’s… that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” The duke’s green eyes met hers steadily. “Marriage would solve both our problems. Your reputation would be restored, and the gossip would die a natural death.”
“You could use your influence,” Samantha said desperately. “Bribe the scandal sheets, ensure the story doesn’t spread?—”
“You know how thetonworks, Lady Samantha. Once a story like this takes hold, it develops a life of its own. Denial only makes it more interesting.”
