“Yes, she was not yet sixteen, but Lord Pomphret had already been making unwanted advances to her for some time. You know the kind of thing—lewd and suggestive comments, unwelcome touches.”
“They started when I was thirteen,” Izzy said.
The ladies made shocked-sounding exclamations.
Clarissa nodded. “Dreadful man.”
Another lady added, “He has that reputation, I’ve heard. Cannot be trusted with young gels.”
“But did your father not act to prevent this appalling behavior?” one lady asked.
Clarissa gave her an incredulous look. “Our father had no time for mere daughters. He cared more about his horses than us.”
“But Lord Pomphret didn’t interfere with Papa’s horses, so...” Izzy said sardonically. She couldn’t believe she sounded so calm. Almost all her attention was on the scene happening across the ballroom, but it was very frustrating. She couldn’t hear what they were saying. The chatter in the ballroom had grown louder—no doubt everyone was discussing the incident.
“Anyway, as I was saying”—Clarissa’s voice dropped and the ladies pressed closer—“one day when Izzy was almost sixteen, Lord Pomphret found her alone outside—he was drunk, of course, just as he is now—and he tried to... tried to ravish her—my younger sister in her own home!”
The ladies gasped and exclaimed in horror.
“I fought him, of course,” Izzy said.
“But a young gel would have no chance against a grown man,” one of the ladies said, and the others murmured agreement. They looked at Izzy in horror, the question hovering unspoken in the air, too polite to ask.
“I found them,” Clarissa began.
“I was yelling.”
“Yes, and kicking and scratching and biting. I tried to pull him off her but it was no good. He was too strong.” Clarissa glanced at Izzy with a little smile. “Luckily we weren’t far from the pigpen.”
“The pigpen?” a lady echoed, bewildered.
“Yes, and the pigs were waiting to be fed. There was a large bucket of pig slops standing there—soured milk, vegetable peelings, grease, fish guts and more—so I grabbed it and tipped it over Lord Pomphret. And then I let the pigs out. They were very hungry.”
“And in the confusion I was able to get away.”
“Yes, we ran.”
“But he was absolutely furious. His clothes were ruined—he considers himself quite a dandy—and some of the pigs bit him. Papa’s other friends who were visiting thought it was quite funny.”
“And so Lord Pomphret has never forgiven us. Which is why he’s saying horrid things about my sister.”
Izzy snorted. “We’ve never forgivenhim. In fact, from then on we called him Lord Pig Slops. Just between ourselves, you understand.”
“Except you did call him that to his face a couple of times, remember?” Clarissa reminded her.
“Papa was furious with us,” Izzy admitted.
“We had to hide for the rest of that visit,” Clarissa said.
There was a short silence. Then one of the ladies tittered. “Lord Pig Slops.” Two more started sniggering, and soon they were all laughing and repeating, “Lord Pig Slops.”
“But that’s in the strictest confidence,” Clarissa reminded them.
“Oh yes,of course,” the ladies assured her. “In thestrictestconfidence.”
“I never liked him,” a lady said.
“Things haven’t gone well for him recently,” said another. “Gambling,” she added.
