Once Reid was sure she could stand on her own, he called for a carriage to be prepared and Jenny to assist her. Watching her leave in the carriage, he felt hollow. There and then, Reid vowed to protect her at all costs, and make sure she never felt the way Dorsten had made her feel ever again.
CHAPTER14
Clutching a blanket around her shoulders, Elise sipped the tea Jenny had brought her. She sat in the bay window of the study and stared out at the sea, not taking in the view. Ever since laying eyes on Lord Dorsten yesterday evening, she had felt numb. It was different from the numbness she had felt immediately after losing Nora and Jed, that had been more of an emptiness that left her unable to do anything. This was an absence of feeling. She had been completely overwhelmed yesterday by the encounter and once she had finally found an equilibrium; it was as if she now swung in the opposite direction and felt nothing rather than too much. She was a negative void. Added to the past week of grief, the need to shut down and protect herself was strong. Feeling simply hurt too much.
Previously, Elise would have felt embarrassed by the way she had clung to and fallen apart in front of Weston. Now she didn’t feel that—only the absence of self-consciousness. Everything was a bit of a blur, but she remembered needing to get away from Cliff House. And though she had no sense of time, she knew it was still early when Weston’s voice echoed down the hallway.
He told Elise he would check on her today and it didn’t surprise her that he would arrive first thing. She should have known he would arrive before she was ready to explain. What was unexpected was that when Jenny announced him, an uneasy Lady Priscilla accompanied him. Peering from behind the curtains, half concealed from her post on the window seat, Elise gathered herself. Having at least enough presence of mind to be a gracious host, she asked Jenny to prepare some more refreshments.
Weston settled himself on the edge of the desk while Priscilla perched on the arm of a chair. Gazing out at them, it seemed no one knew where to start. Elise’s mind still felt mostly blank, and she could not bring herself to start the inevitable conversation. So she waited. Finally, looking utterly wretched and wringing her hands, Lady Priscilla broke the silence. “I’m so sorry for any hurt I have caused you, Lady Elise. I beg you to forgive me.” Lips trembling, her voice broke on the final word.
“What do you mean?” Weston asked. “How have you hurt Lady Elise?”
“Because I’m the one who made sure she was discovered with the footman and ruined her four seasons ago,” she replied.
“Why would you do that?” Weston said calmly, his brow furrowed. Elise observed the interaction, not feeling the need to speak up yet. She was also curious to hear Priscilla’s explanation, though it didn’t matter.
“Because I was a jealous cow,” the lady answered honestly. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, looking at Elise. “I knew when I stumbled across you what you were doing was not wrong, you were just trying to help someone who was injured. Propriety hardly mattered under the circumstances. I should have just walked away and never said anything, but instead I went and found my mother and her friends so they would denounce you for breaking the letter, if not the spirt, of the law when it came to the rules governing theton.”
“It’s alright,” Elise said, speaking at last.
“No, it’s not,” Priscilla said. “I saw you as competition, and the only thing I could think in that moment was that I could get you out of my way.” She paused and sniffled, clearly distressed by her past actions. “My mother was so disappointed in me for not landing a match my first season. She railed on me constantly about how I had to find someone of equal or greater standing within the peerage so I would not embarrass the family. She would not settle for me being anything less than a marchioness or a duchess, and I was desperate to make a connection. I had set my sights on the Marquess of Rothbury, but he was captivated by you.”
Priscilla looked up from her lap where she had been staring at her hands, unable to look at Elise as she made her confession. “And why wouldn’t he have eyes for you, you came in from out of nowhere—and you were so beautiful.”
Elise blinked, trying to process this revelation. That Priscilla had been jealous had never once crossed her mind when she reflected upon what had happened that night. She had always assumed that Priscilla shared her mother’s arrogance and acted out of malice rather than envy.
“As the season continued, I became increasingly distressed. But the more anxious I became, the more I drove men away . . .” Priscilla looked bewildered as she recalled the events of the season that had changed so much for Elise. “I noticed how all the decent men were drawn to your maturity and intellect, and I became jealous and angry. You were an obstacle I needed to get out of my way. So when I followed you down the hall and saw you alone with the footman, I . . .” She stopped, taking a minute to compose herself.
“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Elise said, surprising herself. Weston raised his head from the bowed posture he had taken while listening and looked at Elise with wide eyes. Those eyes conveyed a symphony of emotions as he seemed to battle with himself over feeling either anger or sympathy for Lady Priscilla.
“How can you forgive me?” Priscilla cried. “I’m the reason that awful man hurt you! Last night he admitted as much. He saw you as less because you were ruined, because of my actions.”
Elise watched as Priscilla broke down. Seeing her pain opened something in Elise; it was as if all her repressed feelings came rushing back at once. Overcome, she closed her eyes for a moment before climbing down from the window and kneeling in front of Priscilla. “Your right,” she said. “He used my status against me. That’s what he told me that night to justify his actions.”
“He hurt you?” Weston asked, his voice hoarse.
Turning to look at him from her position on the floor, she looked up into his pained face. “Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. It didn’t get that far.” She watched as he took in a stuttering breath of relief at her statement.
Elise grabbed Priscilla’s hands and settled down on the floor beside her, knowing she needed to share the story she had never told anyone before. Taking in a deep breath, she said, “I had many friends who came to my defense after what happened at the Markham Ball. Yes, I had been found alone with a man, but as nothing compromising had happened, many stood up for me, arguing I should not be completely shunned or shut out. I still received invitations to events from family friends, and for a while, I tried to keep my foot in the door, not wishing to disappoint my family.” She gave Priscilla’s hand a squeeze, understanding the desire to keep family happy.
“My father was embarrassed by the whole situation, but he stood by me. However, as time went on and I was still turned away or given the cut direct by many when I attended functions, we began to worry about the impact my circumstances could have on my little sister down the line. I was already contemplating stepping back from social events when Lord Dorsten forced my hand.” She risked a glance back at Weston and saw him hanging on her every word, his body strung tight in tension.
“Lady Waterston, who had been a friend of my mother’s, invited me to a card party. As it would be a smaller gathering of mostly supportive acquaintances, I decided to attend. One of the guests whom I did not know well was Dorsten, who had just recently gained his title. He was feeling puffed up and entitled with his new status, so when he managed to corner me in a room later that evening, he believed he could help himself.”
The fear she had felt that night came rushing back to Elise and she began to feel the panic from yesterday returning. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she closed her eyes to recenter herself and felt Priscilla squeeze her hand in support. But she couldn’t bring herself to look at Weston.
“I left the main room to pick up some books Lady Waterston had set aside for me, and Dorsten must have followed. He’d clearly been drinking, but he wasn’t drunk; he was simply acting from the sense of entitlement and inculpability he felt now that he was a peer. After he started to kiss and paw at me, I tried to push him away . . . He just laughed and said that a disgraced woman like me was fair game . . . I was terrified. I realized he no longer thought the rules that would have restrained his behavior previously applied to him anymore. To him I was a tool that he could use for his own pleasure rather than a woman who should be treated with care and respect.”
Weston growled, and Elise dared to glance up at him. The look on his face was terrifying. “I’ll kill him,” he spat. “I swear to god he better not cross me again.”
“No, you won’t,” Elise said firmly. “He’s hardly the first man to think that way, and he won’t be the last. In the end, we were interrupted after only a moment when his friend entered the room. He did not cause any real physical harm, just mental and emotional.”
Weston stared at her intently when she had finished before standing up and scrubbing his hands over his face. “Goddamn it!” he shouted, beginning to pace. Elise noticed him favoring his left leg in his agitation. “Forgive me,” he said, resuming his perch on the edge of the desk. “His mindset will be the death of us as a society, it hurts everyone.”
“I don’t disagree,” Elise stated.
“That’s when you left,” Pricilla said, putting the pieces together.
