Emily tugged at the pillow then, making staying in bed even less comfortable than rising and getting dressed. “If you don’t mind my opinion, the blighter ought to have been waiting on the step at sunup. All of us belowstairs are just hopeful a wedding can turn this scandal around. It’ll have to be a quick one though.”
Bethany couldn’t fault her maid in the least, or any of the servants, for speculating. They, too, would be affected by her humiliation. Servants took on the shame the same as their employers. “I will say this, when you go after something, you certainly don’t do it halfway.”
“Oh, but I didn’t go after him, Emily. It was an accident—a terrible mistake. And I’m sorry if all of you are suffering for my stupidity. If I could turn back the clock and do it again, I would change everything.”
But would she?
She would still go outside to save him, but she would announce her identity while maintaining a good deal of distance.
If only turning back the clock was an option.
Emily had Bethany dressed in a pretty canary muslin and her hair in a tidy coiffure in just under thirty minutes. She appropriated additional care, having brushed her slippers and switched out Bethany’s pelisse three times, leaving no doubt as to the importance of the occasion for all of them.
Bethany hated that others could suffer because of her poor decision.
Walking through the corridor toward the stairs, Bethany stopped seven times in order to straighten artwork on the wall. Stepping back, she studied them from a distance and was about to adjust them again just as her mother appeared and grasped her by the wrist.
“Enough of that. He’s waiting in the library.”
Her mother looked as unruffled as ever, with her salt and pepper hair pinned atop her head adorned with two purple feathers that matched her gown. Bethany could almost imagine nothing exceptional had occurred if she hadn’t also noticed the pinched look around her mother’s mouth.
Bethany drooped as her mother dragged her down the stairs. The leveling of the paintings was going to have to wait.
W-a-i-t-i-n-g. Seven letters. L-i-b-r-a-r-y. Seven letters. It was a good sign, wasn’t it? The number seven harbored good things. It was supposed to, anyhow.
Their butler, Mr. Bradley, stood at attention at the bottom of the stairs. Even he didn’t appear unaffected. “Good morning, Lady Bethany.” Sympathy showed from behind his spectacles when he swiftly moved across the foyer to open the door to the library.
A shove at her back and Bethany nearly stumbled inside.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Bethany turned just in time to send her mother a scowl.
“But—”
“I will be waiting directly outside.” Her mother backed away, leaving a hushed silence after the door clicked shut.
Her mother’s sense of propriety seemed a tad out of place this morning but what did Bethany know? Not as much as she’d always assumed, apparently. After all, it was she who’d gotten herself ruined.
She turned back into the room and stared down at the carpet. She could not look at him.She could not.
Oh, but this was mortifying!
“Lady Bethany.” He’d called her plain old Bethany for years now and there was no mistaking the distress in his voice. “I am so very, very sorry. I never would have done it if I’d known it was you.”
For some reason, this stung.
Of course, he would not have. He hadn’t even wanted to dance with her.
“I thought you were someone else. I amso very, very sorry,” he repeated his apology.
The tortured tone of his voice had her glancing up.
She smothered a gasp at the sight of his poor left eye. Swollen scarlet and purple flesh prevented him from opening it properly, and a cut sliced through his top lip on the same side.
Although dressed to the nines and freshly shaved, he looked as though he’d gotten less sleep than she had. Dark circles etched beneath his one good eye, which seemed red and irritated. A hint of green tinted his normal lovely complexion.
Bethany kept herself from sighing when a lock of his beautiful hair fell forward to casually brush the side of his face.
This was a different Chase than she knew. Looking pained, chagrined, and… disgusted.
