Even after the harrowing ride back to the manor, the joy and excitement of the afternoon stayed with her.
“I was perfectly safe.” Charley gratefully slid her arms into the warm dressing gown to wait for the bath to be filled.
“But to be gone with a gentleman. Alone.” Daisy led her to a chair set up near the hearth and then handed her a small quilt. “Gossip is like a wildfire, Miss Charley. I did my best to hush a few of the lower maids but there was no stopping it.”
Jules had told her to expect this. But not only amongst the servants. Amongst the guests. And as one of the persons involved in the scandal was an eligible earl, it would eventually travel to London.
“What are they saying?” Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as she feared. After all, it had been raining and even after they’d waited, the roads had been treacherous to traverse.
“Would you prefer the watered-down version or the worst of it?”
Charley winced. “Tell me the worst.”
A knock interrupted them, and Daisy kept her mouth pinched tight while a laden-down tray was brought in and set on a low table nearby.
The housemaid glanced suspiciously in Charley’s direction but then quickly looked away, fueling the inklings of trepidation Charley had begun to feel.
“Tell me,” Charley demanded while Daisy poured a hot cup of tea.
“The Westerley family, it seems, has always been one of the more popular amongst theton. The English—not I, of course, but the higher ups—well, they are not overly keen on him consorting with an American. Word is that you’ve thrown yourself at him. One of the manservants says you are giving him a magic potion to keep him under your spell.”
Charley frowned. “A magic potion?” And then it dawned on her. “The whiskey.” Good Lord!
“Yes. And Mrs. Crabtree says that Lord Brightly went to his estate this afternoon to retrieve documents signed by Lord Westerley’s father.”
“How does Mrs. Crabtree know this?”
“She was in the room when the earl informed the countess of his departure. Something about a marriage contract between the Lord Westerley and Lady Felicity.”
That inkling of concern was quickly becoming a wave of panic. Mrs. Crabtree, it seemed, was quite in the know. “She told you all of this today?”
“She did.” Daisy stared down at the floor. “Apparently, most of the guests had barely made it to the Abbey before the rain began, and Mrs. Crabtree was one of the last to return. She came to me, looking for you. Said you’d gone off with the earl. The other talk began shortly after tea with the sentiments growing meaner when you and his lordship failed to return before dark. I’m worried about you, Miss Charley.” She met Charley’s gaze with her own, frowning in concern. “Mrs. Crabtree insists you are ruined. When your father returns, she says it’s likely you’ll have to remain at your grandparents until you can catch a ship back home. I’m so sorry, miss. These people have nothing better to do than talk.”
“The gossip doesn’t bother me.” Although she hated to think that Bethany and Tabetha thought poorly of her. As she considered the two sisters, her mind then jumped to other guests who’d been friendly to her. Did they consider her a woman of loose morals? Had all of them been kind to her face and then turned around and speculated on her character?
Although some of what they were saying was true.
Charley couldn’t think about any of that right now. The most pressing item Daisy gave her had nothing to do with the insults. It was the possibility that Felicity’s father might actually possess some written agreement settled upon between him and Jules’ father that bound Jules to Felicity after all.
But why keep it hidden until now? Felicity’s father’s timing could hardly be worse.
“This is impossible,” she muttered.
If Jules’ father signed a contract with Lord Brightly, Jules would be devastated.
Because ofhonor.
Because of some age-old code that said it was one man’s responsibility to uphold another man’s word. As his father’s son, Jules believed it was his duty. And Jules, being Jules, would feel even more compelled to do so because of the entire debacle of him missing the duel. Would he be able to live with himself if he were to shirk it, if he upheld the promise he’d made to her rather than the one his father made?
She knew the answer before she was even finished asking herself the question.
The regret would eat away at him forever. It was possible that it would eventually erode his affection for her—for the family they might have.
“I’ve been given more than any man could ever want or need—before I was even born. What good am I, Miss Jackson, if I act without honor?”
The tea ought to have warmed her insides but a cold, sick foreboding spread through her instead. “My honor is the only thing I have to lose, therefore, it’s the one thing I must do everything in my power to uphold.”
Although Charley saw him as so much more than his title, than his position, she knew that he based the bulk of his identity on his honor.
