There has been much scandal of late, but none quite as prolific as that caused by the Duke of Sherton. Not only had he postponed his wedding the morning that it was to take place, but he had taken legal action against Lord Buxton. Having left one Lady Cassandra Burrow in disgrace, it would seem that His Grace has proven that he was at fault for the end of the engagement.
One can only assume that he has been trying to save face, but at what cost? This author pities his sister, who is no doubt furious with him.
George tossed the scandal sheet aside, knowing that he could no longer hide from his troubles. Three days had passed since Lady Cassandra left him, and in that time he had made his intentions known to Buxton. He had paid off the debt and then some, and so in truth there was no harm in it being known that the man was extorting him. He had done the responsible thing in going to the authorities, and in time all would settle, but that meant that he could no longer hide from what was truly important.
His grandmother and sister could not look at him. They had hardly spoken to him since the day the wedding was meant to have taken place, for they were too disappointed in him. At the time, it had been convenient, as it meant that he could concentrate on his troubles with Buxton, but with them as settled as he could get them, it meant that he had to face them at last. He sat at the table at breakfast, and saw a copy of the scandal sheet that he had been reading on the table.
“You should have told me,” his grandmother said coldly. “I could have helped you.”
“You do not understand. Buxton wanted more and more from me, and I could not bear the thought of you–”
“Of me knowing that my son had made mistakes?” she offered. “You are right, it would have hurt me, but that pales in comparison to the devastation that this has caused. I could have handled it, George.”
“I do not think that you could have. I am the man, and I am responsible for you both, and so I have done everything in my power to protect you both. This way, eventually, it will be seen as that. Had I left it to you, it would have made me look weak, the very thing that you have always told me I cannot be.”
“I am not only talking about Lord Buxton, George. This is why you wanted to take a wife, yes? You were going to use her dowry, which is why you had me arrange such an exquisite event.”
“Of course not. I wanted a wife to show that my life was as stable as it could possibly be, but it was never about a dowry. If that were the case, I would have married that dreadful Lady Sylvia and been done with it.”
He saw that Philippa had not moved. She was not looking at him, instead focusing intently on the bread and cold meats that were untouched on her plate.
“Philippa, you believe me, do you not?”
“I do not know what to believe. You told me that you liked Lady Cassandra. You made me think that you loved her, and I told her such lovely things about you, and now she will think that I was involved. She must hate me.”
“She will not hate you. If anything, that shall be reserved for me alone. She thinks most highly of you.”
“How could you possibly know that? You have ruined everything! I thought that I might at last have a friend, George, but you could not help yourself. It would not have killed you to be honest with her. She would have understood. She would have–”
But even in her anger she had to stop herself, for the truth was that they could not know what she thought. It was more than likely that she would have come to the same conclusion that his grandmother had. She would have assumed that he was using her, and then she would have called the engagement off regardless.
At least, how he had done it, she looked like the wronged party. It was a sacrifice that he was more than willing to make.
“You have to fix this,” Philippa finished. “Until you do, I do not think that I can look at you.”
She stormed away, her meal left behind. George stared at the empty doorway for a moment before turning to his grandmother again.
“I have always known that you were your own man,” she noted. “Even when you were a boy, I knew that you would not be like your father. I hoped that would be for the best, as he had his flaws, but you… I had thought that you might have the courage that he never did.”
“I do,” he protested. “I fought Buxton. I am going to do everything necessary to save our family, and to ensure that we–”
“Continue to be respected among society, yes. That is not what I mean. George, I hoped that when you were a man, you might chase what you wanted, rather than being bound by your duty all your life. That was your father’s pitfall, not his debt.”
George considered that, but only for a moment. He did not see it that way; he had had to sacrifice his desires in order to pay for his father’s debts, not because his father had followed his duty. It felt cruel that, after everything that he had done, his family had turned on him regardless.
He needed a drink.
He arrived at the pub and signaled for two drinks, as though he planned to meet someone, but they were both for himself. He intended to drown his sorrows and listen to the people around him so that it would provide a distraction. He could not continue to sit in his study with only the ticking of his clock for company. He was exhausted, and yet he could not sleep. Each time he tried, his dreams were filled with Lady Cassandra and he woke up once again.
“You look dreadful,” a familiar voice came.
George turned to see his friend Willoughby, who was grinning in spite of what he had said. He sat across from George and took one of the two glasses with an ease to him that George wished he still possessed.
“I certainly feel it. Why are you here?”
“Because, if I had to make an assumption, I would say that those around you are not being particularly kind to you at the moment.”
“Not at all, but I am deserving of that. It is justified after what I have done. Are you planning to add to it?”
