No matter how she did it, Miss Thorne is back in society’s spotlight, wearing lavish dresses and jewelry as shamelessly as any prized mistress, despite her father running their fortune into the ground. No doubt she enjoys the duke’s purse strings more than his company, but witnesses have seen her traveling to Blackwell Manor without a chaperone present, which can only mean one thing.
This writer believes that it will not be long before Lady Harlot is successful in trapping the hapless duke in marriage. Before the Season is over, you can expect to see a betrothal announcement between the ill-fated lovers. But, dear readers, you cannot expect a fairytale ending for them.
Joanna took a shaky breath, trying to get her thoughts in order, but they felt permanently scattered. She used to think she was strong, taking everything that had happened to her family in stride, but this felt like a blow she could never recover from.
“Lady Harlot,” she muttered to herself as she finally folded up the newspaper. “That’s the best they could come up with for me? What about the Wicked Whore of Clifford? Or the Thorne in Blackwell’s Side? I should write the gossip columns, since they clearly don’t know what they are doing.” She tossed the newspaper across the room in anger and pulled the blanket up over her head, as if she could block out this nightmare.
How did everything go south so quickly? And who could have seen her traveling there without a chaperone? She was very careful, and Evan swore his servants could be trusted.
Perhaps the writer had just gotten lucky with that piece of information.
She didn’t know what she hated more—thetonthinking she was a gold-digging seductress or them thinking Evan was a sad, lonely man willing to throw his fortune at the first woman who looked at him kindly.
There was a soft knock on her door.
“Please, leave me alone,” Joanna said softly. “I know I must face it, but I can’t do it yet.”
The door opened anyway, despite her wishes. She peeked her head out to see her father come into the room. She groaned and covered her face with the blanket again.
“I know that feeling well,” he said, sighing. He sat on the edge of her bed. “As much as we wish differently, scandal sheets and other problems do not go away just because we bury our heads in the blankets.” He gently tugged the blanket away from her, and Joanna reluctantly let her face be exposed to the light.
“I am sorry, Father,” she said, sitting up in bed. “It was reckless for me to go over there without Mary.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But I am not in a position to lecture you about recklessness, am I?’’
She looked at him, bewildered. “You are not angry with me?”
He shook his head. “No, my dear. Sad, yes. I suppose I am also quite angry with the gossip column writers for being unable to keep their noses out of other people’s business. But I am not angry with you.”
He looked tired. The dark circles were permanently etched into the skin under his eyes, but now there seemed to be new worry lines appearing on his face. Joanna could not help but feel a pang of guilt for causing more stress on the household.
“I am not saying this will be easy on you,” her father said quietly. “Facing the judgement of thetonis never easy. But I want you to know that I love you. That will not change, no matter what happens.”
A lump forms in Joanna’s throat. “Thank you,” she said. She reached out and hugged her father. “I love you, too, you know. Despite all the gambling, you are still my father.”
Her words were true, but these days, they rarely got a chance to see each other. She was only sad that they were only able to come together under such horrible circumstances, such as this.
They pulled apart from the hug, and her father looked down at her with a small, sad smile. “I have to ask, though. Have you done anything that would get you with child?”
She shook her head. “No, never.”
He looked a little disappointed about that. “Ah, well. Perhaps he will marry you anyway. He seems quite smitten with you. Maybe he knows better than to read the scandal sheets. He was certainly able to overlook my transgressions well enough.”
Tears sprang to Joanna’s eyes as she hugged her knees to her chest. “I am sorry, Father. But that will not be happening. We never had a real courtship. It had been a ruse from the start.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“When he came to visit me that first day, it was not because he wanted to court me. Not really, at least. He wanted to strike a deal with me. He would sponsor my Season and give me and Aurelia dowries. In exchange, I would go on dates with him. He doesn’t want to marry anyone, and he thought this wouldbe a practical way to get his grandmother to stop pestering him into dating all the ladies in theton.That’s all. It was simply a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Her father looked heartbroken at this. “Oh,” he said quietly. “So there was never any possibility for marriage.”
“No, Father. I am so sorry for the deception.”
He shook his head as he stood up. “No, my dear. I am sorry. It’s my fault you felt the need to do such a thing in the first place. You were just protecting yourself and your sister. If I had been better… if I had been stronger… it would have been different. I suppose you kept the promise of dowry payments a secret from me, so you didn’t have to worry about me taking off with it in the middle of the night.”
Joanna stayed quiet, which was answer enough.
He nodded and sighed. “I suppose that’s fair. No, I don’t blame you for your scheme. It was a clever one, too. And despite this nonsense in the papers, you haven’t hurt our family, not really. No one can hurt it any more than I have.”
