Her mother set her mouth in a tight line and lifted her chin.
“My husband can be of some assistance. Perhaps with some legal finagling… I’ll have him speak to Blackheart.” Lady Ravensdale touched a fingertip to her lips.
“Hawthorne has ordered your carriage brought around, Lady Westerley,” Lady Hawthorne interrupted.
“Don’t lose faith. Circumstances won’t feel nearly as dire come morning,” Lady Ravensdale offered. “But regardless…” She squeezed Bethany’s hand. “You have the full support of the Spencers. After Lord Chaswick makes his offer tomorrow morning, send round a note. Natalie and I are more than happy to assist with the wedding planning. I’ll bring Rose too.”
Bethany managed a week smile. “Thank you.” But she couldn’t even imagine talking to Chase. The prospect of facing him was mortifying, the idea of marrying him under these circumstances unfathomable.
But she was going to have to do both.
Resignation crept in. He would be compelled to offer for her. Wouldn’t he?
Her resignation turned to unease. What if he preferred to leave the country instead?
Bethany tapped out so many words she could hardly keep track. S-c-a-n-d-a-l. S-h-u-n-n-e-d. U-n-w-a-n-t-e-d.
Staring at her vanity,Bethany saw no discernable difference in herself, even though from this day forward all of society would view her as ruined.
Her father was likely rolling in his grave.
She began removing the pins from her coiffure, placing them in a straight line on the table, deciding not to awaken the lady’s maid she shared with Tabetha. Emily would expect her to be cheerful and regale her with details of all the ladies’ gowns and Lady Willoughby’s decorations, as she had a thousand times before. But feigning cheerfulness would be impossible tonight. Far easier to contort herself into all manner of positions in order to unfasten her own dress.
“I thought I heard you come home.” Tabetha’s friendly brown eyes peeked around the door as she entered without knocking. She didn’t look as though she’d been sleeping, even though her long blond hair was in braids and she wore only a night rail. “Why are you home so early?”
“It was bad, Tabby,” Bethany answered. “It was beyond bad.” And then she dropped her forehead onto the table.
“It isn’t like you to give into theatrics.” Her sister crossed the room and then pulled Bethany back to an upright position. Unfazed, Tabby went right to work removing the remaining pins. Rather than discarding them neatly, however, she tossed them haphazardly onto the tidy row Bethany had started.
Bethany was too tired to line them up again.
“I’m ruined. You’re ruined. We’re all ruined.” Doing her best to avoid the most embarrassing details of the story, Bethany laid out the unfortunate turn of events that evening.
By the end of the sad tale, Tabetha had brushed out Bethany’s long brown hair, weaved it into one long braid, and tied off the end.
But whereas Bethany had, in fact, expected histrionics from her younger sister, none came.
“Let me get this straight. Instead of the sticklers catching Rachel Somerset with Lord Chaswick, they caught you? Was he kissing you? I imagine you might have enjoyed that—you’ve dangled after him as long as I can remember. I’ll admit, Beth. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I don’t! I didn’t! And I haven’t dangled after him!” As for the other, the mere suggestion that she’d enjoyed having his hand on her—
“I don’t believe that for a minute.”
Bethany hated that she felt her cheeks grow warm. Apparently, she hadn’t been as subtle about her infatuation as she’d believed.
“He wasn’t kissing me, Tabetha.” Bethany slipped out of her gown and then ducked into the night rail her sister held up for her.
Tabetha scowled in confusion. “If he wasn’t kissing you, then what’s all the uproar about?”
“It was worse.”
“Did you give him your virtue?” Her sister’s eyes couldn’t have opened any wider.
“No. Nothing like that.” Or had it been? Up until that moment, Bethany hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on the spanking itself. Or the warmth of his hand in between each swat, when it had seemed he was soothing her…
“Then what?”
“He… was… spanking me,” Bethany mumbled.
