Grace’s brow furrowed. “Hewas a rogue?” That she hadn’t expected. For someone so bent on propriety, it didn’t follow that he’d be willing to risk his reputation by adultery.
“No. It’s something quite different. I’ve never heard of it happening before, or since.” Samantha whispered softly, but the intensity of her tone captivated Grace’s attention.
“What happened?” Grace asked eagerly, leaning forward once more.
“Miss Rebecca Standson was actually Mrs. Nixwell.” Samantha arched a brow.
Grace blinked. “I’m . . . confused. She wasn’t who she said she was?”
Samantha lifted her teacup and took a sip, irritating Grace with the pause it created. “You’re missing the first part.Mrs.”
“She wasn’t widowed . . . Dear Lord. She was married?” Grace gasped in horror.
“Yes. Yes, she was.”
“So she was married . . . twice? Goodness, how does such a thing occur without someone being the wiser?” Grace made a gesture with her hand and frowned in confusion.
“As the story goes, the winter before, she had run off with a gentleman of little means and low reputation to Gretna Green. Her father was determined to wash the whole business under the bridge, and paid off a rather corrupt local magistrate, and, as luck would have it, the gentleman she’d run off to marry was wanted for debtor’s prison. He was locked up, which kept him silent on the true events. A few months later, the father, Lord Standson, presented his daughter at the London season with no one the wiser.”
“It’s like reading a gothic novel,” Grace replied breathlessly. “What an arrogant attitude for the father to attempt such a thing.”
“Very true. And it might have worked . . . but for two important people.”
“The husband, no doubt. But who is the other?”
Samantha’s lips bent into a sad smile, and Grace had the suspicion that the rest of the story was far sadder than the beginning. “The child.”
“Dear God,” Grace whispered with feeling.
Samantha gave a slow nod. “Miss Standson concealed the truth even from her father, and only after she had married Lord Sterling did the truth start to unravel. He might have been able to recover from a by-blow, but when her first husband came to London . . .” Samantha gave her head a slow shake to emphasize her point.
“The scandal would be horrendous.”
“It was. Lord Sterling attempted to set things right as quickly and quietly as possible, but his efforts weren’t helped by the other parties involved. The first husband made his side of the story known, the father was implicated in concealing the truth, and then Miss Rebecca and the child she carried were known.”
“Lord Sterling must have nearly died from mortification,” Grace replied, blinkingly.
“I would imagine so. My husband says he has never quite recovered. There was some considerable fallout between him and his father after the situation was known, but I do not know the truth of it. Since then, Lord Sterling hasn’t danced with anyone else . . . save you.” Samantha punctuated her point by setting her cup down.
“It would seem that I owe him quite a debt of gratitude, then,” Grace whispered. “It was truly a selfless act for him to take pity upon me.”
“It was, my dear.”
“What are we talking in whispered tones? Do I dare ask?” The viscount strode into the breakfast room, bending to place a quick kiss on Samantha’s cheek.
“We were just—”
“Discussing last night—” Samantha interrupted Grace’s statement, giving a quick shushing glance to her.
The viscount turned to Grace, his expression one of deep reflection. “It could have been worse.”
“Good Lord, not you too.” Grace slouched in her chair.
“What?” He replied, then walked to the side table to fill his plate. “How could such a statement cause offense?”
“Because it is exactly the same statement I said not a quarter hour earlier, my dear,” Samantha replied, hiding a grin and attempting to suppress a giggle.
“Oh, I’m pleased we are of one mind, my love. That bodes well for us.”
