Lady Clara nodded slowly. "I had not thought of that until this moment. Yes, I recall now that it was you and I who met one afternoon, when I came to visit Lady Deborah and Lady Isobella. You were all playing whist in the parlor."
Miss Jennings nodded, her fingers beginning to worry the handkerchief she held in her hand. "I was, however, introduced to your younger brother, Lord Thomas. It was an unexpected meeting, for I was out walking and he was doing the very same."
Josiah's stomach dropped low. He feared he already knew the rest of this story. Having only a brief recollection of Lord Thomas, he began to scowl, wondering if the gentleman was as much a rogue as he now feared.
"I thought him quite wonderful," Miss Jennings continued, looking down at her hands, her voice growing soft with emotion."We talked on many occasions, many of which were unknown and unseen by others."
"There was another gentleman in the household," Miss Jennings added, her voice growing quieter still, as though this memory held less pain and therefore less importance to her. "The elder brother --- Lord Tyrone himself. He was present on several occasions when Lord Thomas and I were in company, during morning calls that Lady Prentis made upon the family." She gave a small, almost dismissive shake of her head. "He was nothing like his brother. Quiet. Reserved. He asked me once about the book I was reading --- Cowper's poems --- and thanked me for the tea. I thought it strange that two brothers could be so very different."
She fell silent, as though the memory of kindness was harder to bear than the memory of betrayal.
Josiah turned his attention to Lady Clara, seeing her face pale. The way she gripped her hands together, her knuckles white, told him that she was inwardly struggling with the situation being presented to her. Unable to keep away, he moved towards her and set one hand on her shoulder. She did not even look up but reached up with her own hand to set it on his. When she did not ask anything, Josiah continued on with his questions, hoping that Clara did not mind him doing so.
"Might I ask if there was an agreement between you of any kind?"
Miss Jennings closed her eyes again. "When it came to it, I thought that he was going to offer his hand in marriage. After all we had shared, after all of our intimacies, it would only have been right for him to do such a thing."
"But he did not?" Clara's voice was hoarse, her fingers now gripping his. "He made you no offer?"
With a shake of her head, Miss Jennings' shoulders rounded and she began to sob. Josiah did not know what to do, watchingthe lady and seeing her distress but feeling utterly helpless when it came to assisting her or comforting her in any way.
Clara, however, moved without hesitation. Releasing his hand and coming out of her chair, she knelt beside Miss Jennings, her face close to hers and her hand on the lady's. Josiah did not hear what she said but the soft murmurs seemed to bring Miss Jennings some comfort, given the way she nodded slowly, her sobs abating. Josiah, sensing that it was right for him to step out of the room so that Miss Jennings and Clara could speak together, stepped out of the room and, opening the front door, walked back towards his waiting carriage. Keeping his hands behind his back, he paced up and down the street as he waited, his mind whirring with all that Miss Jennings had told him.
If Lord Thomas had taken advantage of Miss Jennings, had used her ill and made her believe that she was to become his wife, then it was little wonder that Lord Tyrone had sent him away, given his disgrace. Josiah rubbed one hand over his face and shook his head, turning the situation over in his mind. He found, to his discomfort, that whilst his sympathy for Miss Jennings was genuine and deep, there was a part of him that understood Lord Tyrone's reasoning. A Marquess had his family's name and standing to consider. Miss Jennings was a companion --- a paid companion, at that, from a disgraced family --- and whilst it was certainly wrong that Lord Thomas had used her so, it was not entirely unreasonable that Lord Tyrone would seek to protect the family from the consequences of such a connection rather than insist upon a marriage that would lower them all.
The thought settled uneasily in his chest even as he had it. It was the way of the world, was it not? A gentleman of Lord Thomas's position simply could not be expected to marry a companion, no matter what intimacies had passed betweenthem. It was a dreadful situation, to be sure, and Thomas was very much in the wrong --- but the remedy Lord Tyrone had chosen, sending Thomas away and providing for Miss Jennings quietly, was not without its own cold logic. Better that than a scandal that would touch the whole family, including Clara.
And yet even as Josiah reasoned thus, something in it sat badly with him, like a stone caught in his shoe. Miss Jennings had been used and discarded and hidden away in a cottage on the outskirts of London, and the family that had done it to her carried on with their Season as though she did not exist. There was logic in that, certainly. But was there justice?
He was still turning this question over when Lady Clara stepped out of the house.
Her face was set with anger burning in her eyes. It was not the reaction he had expected to see and his own heart shot upwards in surprise. Reaching for her, he caught her hands in his and looking down into her face, waited for her to speak.
"I cannot believe what I have heard," she whispered, clearly unable to trust her voice. "I do not understand what Thomas was thinking in writing to me as he did! Did he think that I would show some sympathy towards him? That I would understand about his dalliance?" She closed her eyes and pressed his hands, hard. "I am angry with myself for being so concerned about him and, thereafter, being so upset with Tyrone. I do not think that he made the right decision in separating us, however. It seems to me that he wants to make certain that there is no connection between our families for fear that the disgrace Thomas has brought upon himself will, somehow, come to light. But that is no reason at all, is it?"
"It might very well be that your brother knew --- more than I did --- that Miss Jennings was a relation of mine. Even if he did not, he was bound to know that she was a cousin to Lord Prentiswho, in turn, is connected to me. Miss Jennings would have told Lord Thomas so."
Lady Clara closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. "I am horrified by his actions, truly."
"Of Tyrone's?"
"Of Thomas, first and foremost," she answered, a tremble coming into her voice now. "How could he behave in such a way as this? Why was he so eager to write to me, to try and find a way to explain himself? All this time, I have believed that Tyrone did wrong in sending Thomas away. Now I see that it was only Thomas's behaviour that called for such treatment." Her eyes opened but tears swam there, making Josiah's heart twist. "He is to come to London."
Josiah's eyebrows lifted. "Lord Thomas?"
She nodded. "In two days hence." Her hands tightened on his again. "You must come to the house. Yourself, Lord Worthington and Alice. You all must be there. Any conversation I am to have with my brothers will require your presence."
"I do not think I can," Josiah said, slowly. "What if Lord Tyrone demands that I leave? What if he has me thrown from the house?" He leaned closer. "What if he demands that you marry this Lord Atherstone as a consequence of having me in your company?"
She tossed her head. "I care nothing for his threats now. You have promised that we will wed, that we will elope if we have to, and that is what I will cling to." Releasing one of his hands, she reached up and settled it on his heart. "Your heart belongs to me, just as my heart belongs to you. This will not separate us. Say you will come, Josiah."
Every bit of breath left his body at the way she spoke his name. The tenderness there, the gentle sweetness of it called out to him and he could not deny her request. "Then of course, I will come."
"Good. I will have word sent to Alice, telling her to come at once when the time is right. I will also have word sent to you, Rutland."
"And I shall come at once," he swore. "We are so near to the end, Clara."
"I pray we see happiness thereafter," she answered, hoarsely, leaning into him, her arms going around his neck as he held her close. "I am near broken by this."
