“No!” Elinor tried to push him away. “You mustn’t—”
“Don’t even try to send me away.” Benedict wrapped his fingers tightly around hers and turned to stand by her side, shoulder-to-shoulder. “I will not abandon you.”
“But I don’t understand!” Penelope wailed. “That’s not Elinor. It can’t be! Her hair—her face—they don’t look anything alike!”
“You can see the real Elinor when you touch her,” Lady Hathergill explained with cheerful matter-of-factness. “Quite the shock it was, too, when I first saw her—I nearly tossed my punch all over myself. Nowthatwould have been embarrassing!”
Sir John set his jaw. “You have to touch her to see it, eh?”
“No.” Benedict stepped in front of her. “You shall not lay a hand upon her, Sir John.”
“You don’t have to.” Elinor looked around the room, at her family, at Mrs. De Lacey, at Miss Armitage—who was, of course, watching everything with calculating interest—and at Benedict. Tears pricked her eyes, but she held her head high as she turned to meet her dragon’s golden gaze. “I wish,” she said clearly, “with all of my heart forbothof my wishes to be undone.”
Sir Jessamyn opened his mouth. Tingling flames rushed across her face, momentarily blinding her. She staggered. She heard her aunt made a loud sound of surprise. She felt someone—Benedict—catch her by her arms. Penelope was letting out a series of gasping shrieks. The entire room was in an uproar.
When her vision cleared, Benedict was all that she could see. He held her close—far closer than was proper—and he was smiling down at her. His hazel eyes were clear; his big hands were warm on her bare upper arms. With every breath, she could feel the closeness of his body, only inches away from hers.
“There you are,” he said softly. “It’s you, again. Really you. Elinor Tregarth.”
“Elinor Tregarth,” her uncle growled. “By God, you will regret what you’ve done! As magistrate of this county, I’m placing you under arrest. You’ll spend the rest of tonight in gaol…and I’ll see you transported for your crimes if it’s the last thing I do.”
Chapter 33
“Not,” said Mrs. De Lacey firmly, “until someone explains to me what’s going on.”
Penelope said, “Shestole my dragon and lied to usandtook my fiancé!”
Gritting her teeth, Elinor nudged Benedict out of her way. “He was never your fiancé.”
“Not even a future fiancé,” Benedict whispered into her ear. He had let go of one of her arms, but he held the other firmly tucked against his side.
“But who is she?” Mrs. De Lacey demanded. She tapped one strong finger against her dragon’s side. “Elinor Tregarth…Mary’s little sister married a man called Tregarth, didn’t she? I hadn’t seen her for years by then, of course, but I heard he’d lost his money and then got them both killed. He left their daughters destitute, didn’t he?”
“Very sad,” Miss Armitage murmured, “but if you’ll all excuse me now…”
“No,” said Elinor. “Wait!” She moved forward, pulling Benedict with her, to stand between Miss Armitage and the door. Disaster, it seemed, was a state well beyond panic. Once everything had already been lost, there was nothing left to fear…so her brain could finally begin to function properly again. “Iwant to hear about the gossip that brought Mrs. De Lacey here. Those disturbing rumours.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Miss Armitage said. “She must have heard that she was known to be here. Why wouldn’t she come running to investigate?”
“I don’t think that was it,” Elinor said. “Shesaid it was a matter of duty. I think she was referring to those rumours that you spread in your own letters—the rumours that Sir John was having his own wife declared to be mad.”
Penelope let out a squeak of horror. “Youtoldpeople? How could you?”
“The question is,” said Mrs. De Lacey coldly, “is it true?”
Sir John’s face had moved beyond puce to a mottled medley of colours. “Will everyone stop interfering?” he bellowed. “Iam the head of this household! I make my own decisions. I—”
“It is perfectly true,” said Lady Hathergill. “My husband is a selfish, stupid man who cannot bear to be contradicted, and he is declaring me mad only for his and our daughter’s convenience.” She blinked. “Good heavens. Nothing was driving me to say any of that…but I said it anyway. And it felt delightful!”
“You will soon feel even better,” said Mrs. De Lacey grimly. “Sir John is about to re-consider his scheme.”
“The devil I will!” Sir John stomped towards her, bullish shoulders squared. “I have had quite enough of being ordered around by you, ma’am, one way or another, across this past week! If you think you can tell me how to manage my own wife—”
“I can tell you,” Mrs. De Lacey said, raising her right hand in warning, “that I have the ears of every hostess in London. I couldn’t stop my dearest friend from marrying you all those years ago, but now, at least, I have the power to protect her from your abuse. If you make any move to confine her against her will, I will see your daughter blackballed and a social outcast. She won’t even be allowed to glance at the front door of Almack’s.”
Penelope let out a scream of horror. “Papa! You won’t—you can’t let her—”
“There is,” said Miss Armitage, “another solution.” She stepped into the center of the room and waited for all eyes to turn to her before she continued. “My brother, as you all know, is passionately in love with Miss Hathergill. He would be more than happy to announce their betrothal now, tonight, at her début ball. As a matron of substance, she will be far safer from the social tyranny of Mrs. De Lacey, and you, Sir John, will be quite free to do as you like in your own household. As you should be.” She smiled, dark eyelashes drifting down to conceal her eyes.
