Nice thing about extended family, they didn’t take insults personally. When the footman brought the cheese and nuts, Templeton pushed the plate to the middle of the table so they could share.
David took a bite of cheese, silently chewing, shamelessly eavesdropping on Sir Rupert discussing a plan.
“No laudanum this time,” Rupert said. “Got to be direct. No subterfuge.”
“With your reputation?” his companion replied. “What chit is going to go off to a darkened alcove with you and let herself be compromised?”
“I’ll simply make sure she has no choice but to accept my suit. My creditors won’t be put off much longer.”
“Whether she spreads her legs for you willingly or not, eh?”
David lowered the newspaper enough to see Sir Rupert give an oily, evil smile.
Rupert withdrew a sheet of paper from his coat pocket. “Here’s my list of chits who have a dowry at least as large as I need, and the family not so high in the instep they would reject my suit.”
His companion scooted his chair closer so they could both peruse the document. He tapped the paper. “This one is likely to be at Lady Bristol’s soiree on Friday. Her mother is friends with the Viscountess.”
David could not make a habit of following Sir Rupert around, rescuing young women from his clutches. He also could not let the blackguard force himself on a woman and compel her to the alter just to get his hands on her dowry.
He’d call out the scoundrel, but David’s fencing skills were average at best; he only spent time at Henry Angelo’s for the exercise. His time at Manton’s shooting range was mainly for the satisfaction of blasting paper targets to bits when he was frustrated; his marksmanship was also merely average. He sparred with Gentleman Jackson, enough to know how to protect himself if accosted by footpads.
How could he make sure the blackguard never again forced himself on anyone?
* * *
Ashley had now spent two days in her room. After checking on her just after lunch, Aunt Eunice had left Ashley alone in her room for the rest of the day to recover from her “headache,” with an arched eyebrow at having friends take her home. Thankfully she did not pry for more details, which left Ashley free to annoy herself, obsessively reliving what had happened at the Sedgewicks’ ball, or at least what bits she could recall.
Ashley wouldn’t allow Sally to freshen the paisley shawl. Instead she wrapped it in tissue and tucked it in a drawer of her wardrobe. Sally had taken away the ecru gown without comment other than a polite expression of gratitude.
Even when Aunt Eunice dropped hints about how lovely Ashley would look in the two finished gowns that had just arrived from the modiste, Ashley dreaded going out. What if she encountered Sir Rupert? Much of that night was still fuzzy, but she was certain he had drugged her by putting laudanum in her punch, tried to take her against her will, and only the intervention of a stranger had prevented her attacker from succeeding in his wicked plan.
Why had Sir Rupert been so intent on her? The dowry Uncle Edward planned to settle on her was respectable but not large enough to make her the target of fortune-seekers. She had shown Sir Rupert only the barest of courtesies after their first dance together. She shivered anew. Something about him just seemedoff.
Then her mood would swing to fury at being in such a vulnerable position in the first place. Society had rules, and she had always strived to follow them. Had taught those rules to hundreds of students in her time at Madame Zavrina’s Torquay Academy for Young Ladies, first as a student, and later as a staff member.
Society needed rules, or there would be anarchy.
But why did so many rules conscribe the behavior of women, and not apply to the behavior of men? An unmarried man could visit the bed of dozens of women, perhaps revel in being known as a rake, and still be accepted everywhere, by everyone. An unmarried woman, merely caught kissing a man in a dark hallway, would be forced to wed him or be considered fast at best, wanton and of poor moral character at worst, and her reputation in shreds. Ruined.
She doubted Sir Rupert felt any remorse for what he’d done or what he’d tried to do.
Well, she was done hiding. “I’m going to join my aunt for her at-home today,” she informed Sally.
“Yes, miss.” They spent a fun hour kitting her out in one of her new gowns, a hairstyle copied fromLa Belle Assemblée, a new silk shawl, and a pearl-studded comb in her hair.
Ashley had just settled on a sofa in the front parlour opposite Aunt Eunice when the first guests arrived. She rose to greet Mrs. Vaughn and her just-out daughter, soon followed by Lady Donkin, a widow aunt’s age, and her companion. Conversation was polite and utterly uninteresting to Ashley until the butler announced Lady Diana Mansfield and her daughter, Miss Georgia Aldridge.
Ashley’s breath caught when she saw the red-haired young woman in the doorway beside her mother.
The girl she’d rescued at Lady Sedgewick’s ball.
Georgia’s uncertain expression changed to a broad smile when Ashley rose to greet her. She must not have hidden her own feelings of uncertainty.
“My mother and great-aunt know absolutely everyone in Town, at least their family names,” she said quietly as they sat beside each other on the sofa. Georgia’s mother took a chair near Aunt Eunice. “I couldn’t find you later at the ball. I still wanted to return this to you, and thank you again.” She withdrew a handkerchief from her reticule and handed it over.
Ashley’s heart pounded at the mention of “later at the ball,” but she schooled her expression to one of polite interest. She accepted the handkerchief that she had elaborately embroidered, including her initials in four different styles, one set in each corner. The handkerchief she had given to Georgia when the girl was distraught.
“It looks like something you spent a lot of time working on and might be important to you.”
