“No.” Juliette said. “Matthew asked me to intervene, and so I shall. I believe you want our help, else you would not have come.”
At that, the woman’s expression turned tired. “There is nothing you can do to help me. And despite what you might think, I did not spread the stories about him. Someone else did.”
“I don’t believe y—” Amelia started, but Juliette cut her off.
“Enough.” She pulled her chair beside Sarah’s. “What we all want is for Matthew to be happy and to put the past behind him. And if you are willing to put it to rest, we may be able to help you find your own happiness. If you wish to try.”
“No man would have someone like me,” Sarah said quietly. “I’m too old, and I would only make myself into a fool.”
It was then that Victoria spoke up. “All of us have seen better days. But I know many widowers who are quite lonely in their years. Some desire only companionship.”
She studied them, and Juliette saw a wistful glimpse of hope in the woman’s eyes before she shuttered it. “I don’t know.”
“If you agree to never speak of Matthew’s past—and if you help us silence the rumors—we will do everything we can to help you,” Juliette said. “Speak up on his behalf and insist that Matthew is legitimate. Do this for him and for us. And in return, you’ll have another chance at your own happiness.”
“Next Friday,” Victoria said. “I want you to attend my Christmas ball. There will be hundreds of people there, and you will be treated like an honored guest.”
“I don’t belong in a duchess’s house,” Sarah insisted, her face coloring. “I wouldn’t know what to say or how to act. It’s been far too long.”
At that, Margaret released a sigh. “I cannot say as I trust you, either, but I know what it is to be stared at by society. And I know how to overcome it.” She assessed Sarah and said, “I even know a few of the widowers Toria spoke of. Some would marry a stick of wood if it smiled at them.”
A horrified choking sound came from Sarah, and Juliette realized it was a laugh. The woman covered her mouth and gathered her composure. “Well, then. I suppose if they would marry a stick of wood, then there’s hope for me.”
Chapter Eighteen
“They are behaving as if we don’t exist.”
Matthew didn’t miss the discomfort in Lily’s tone as she took his arm. And she was right. Although the Christmas ball was hosted by the Duchess of Worthingstone, most of the guests had turned a cold shoulder to them.
“Does it bother you?” he asked quietly. “We could leave.” On her cheeks, he could see the flush of embarrassment. Though Lily had insisted that she wanted to face them down, it angered him that people were ignoring her. There was no cause for it whatsoever.
“I would not give them the satisfaction,” she said, raising her chin and entering the ballroom. There were garlands of greenery hung throughout the rooms, and the scent of mulled wine filled the air. A few oranges were set about for color, along with holly. And near the far end of the room, a bundle of mistletoe hung above a discreet corner of the room.
Matthew guided her inside, but several of the older women leaned toward one another, whispering. Lily tried to brave a smile, but it didn’t meet her eyes.
She walked toward one of the matrons and nodded in greeting. “It is so good to see you, Mrs. Everett. And how is your daughter? I understand Viscount Burkham is courting her.”
The matron’s eyes glazed over as if she didn’t see Lily, and she turned to her friend. “Lady Compton, I must say, I am surprised at the duchess’s guest list for this ball. One would think she would allow the rabble off the streets to come and mingle with us.”
Matthew was not going to let the spiteful cats have the last word. “Quite right,” he said. “Lady Lily, you would not wish to lower yourself to converse with—” he narrowed his gaze at the women “—‘rabble.’”
He didn’t give the older women the chance to reply, but took Lily’s hand and led her further into the ballroom. Her face was bright with color, as if their words had been a physical slap. “I never expected them to be so terrible to our faces,” she confessed. “I knew there were whispers of gossip, but this went beyond my expectations.”
He studied her closely, wondering if he could give her the life she deserved. This woman had stood by him through the worst moments he’d ever endured, and it meant everything to him.
“We will go and speak with my cousins. They will not spurn us.” A waltz had begun, and he took Lily toward the dancing. Matthew rested his hand upon the small of her back as they danced, but she had grown pale. He didn’t know why she was putting herself through this, but for the moment he said, “Look at me, Lily.” She raised her gaze to his and in her hazel eyes, he saw fear. “We don’t need them.”
“We have to make our peace with the scandal,” she corrected. “You will have to live in London for part of the year.”
He knew his Parliamentary responsibilities, but there were other possibilities. “You need not come with me. We could build a house nearer to Penford so you could see your mother whenever you wanted.”
Her face softened. “I would like to live near her for part of the year. But we cannot run away from this scandal. We must confront it and face it down.” Her hand squeezed his, and in that moment, he loved her courage.
“There is nothing that will part us again, Lily. I promise you that.”
She managed a smile, and the warmth of it slid over him like a caress. She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm as he led her toward the Duchess of Worthingstone. He was confident that the matrons would shield Lily from the gossip. And in the meantime, he wanted to find out exactly whom he could number among his true friends.
Just then, he saw an older woman join the duchess and her sisters. She wore a demure gown of light blue, but there were traces of silver thread within the fabric that made it gleam in the candlelight. The woman appeared nervous, twisting her hands as she glanced around.
