Hunched over the table, he sucked in long, slow breaths to calm the fire in his chest. Nothing would come from his running off from his civic duty to fix his civilian one.
I will fix this, Ariadne. I will fix this.
The fury burned right through him, and that fire carried him to the floor. The compunction he usually had to remove his emotions from his logic was gone, and he used that fire to fuel his arguments.
“That was painful to watch.” Lord Pollock, a fellow duke, a silver-haired sexagenarian, said as he strode to him. “It would have been more merciful if you had drawn and quartered them than vocally eviscerate those two poor souls you decimated.”
“I am not in the best of moods,” Cedric told him.
“Is this about that nonsense in the papers?” Pollock asked and scoffed. “I thought you had thicker skin than that, Holloway.”
“I do,” Cedric replied. “When it was only me, I do not give a whit, but I have more people to protect now.”
Pollock clapped Cedric on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, old boy. You’ve weathered worse storms than this.”
Those words seemed to snap Cedric’s frayed composure together, and he scolded himself for losing his control. This time, he could pass the passion off as fighting for common sense and lower taxes, but outside these walls, that explanation would not work.
All he had to do was to weather the next four days until he could go home again. He rubbed his face and sighed, “I’ll be surprised if I do not combust by day three.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Head held high and shoulders back, Ariadne made her way across the bustling street. Three well-dressed young gentlemen stood outside the apothecary and glanced at her as she entered.
She felt their gaze sear over the back of her neck even after she closed the store door behind her. She dared not look behind her as she was well aware of why they stared so intently at her.
The rumors of her ruination by Lord Moreland had reached their pinnacle, and despite Ariadne desperately clinging to the hope that some other scandal would come along and the ton would put this behind them, the way the newspaper kept on at dragging her name through the mud, it was apparent they would not.
It seemed to grow worse with every passing day, and she could not wait to leave this town very soon. She approached the apothecary, who stood behind the large wooden counter, and smiled at him.
“Good afternoon, sir,” she greeted the man. “I need a bottle of laudanum, please.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the clerk bowed.
The past few days had been ripping; the rumors were getting too much for her to stomach, and what pained her was that they were not rumors; they were the truth.
Who is spilling my secrets?
The bell on the door chimed as she stepped outside, and as she waited for the street to clear before she walked to the waiting carriage. She heard whispers.
“If Moreland tupped that, do you think anyone can?” One of them snickered.
“For shame, Westley,” another said. “You’ll have to ask the husband and the brother paramour for permission.”
“Is that the path to her underskirt?” the third guffawed, and Ariadne’s jaw dropped in shock at his vulgar words.
She crossed the street and headed into the carriage, trying to stifle the urge to scream and cry at the same time. She stepped inside and instantly shuttered the shades, then sunk to the squabs and clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a cry or utter pain.
While listening to the crude jokes about women the lords spurned while having the last meal inside the White Chamber, Cedric thought about the words Isolde had said, that men and women were treated very differently and unfairly so.
The more notches men collected on their bedpost, the better, but if a lady was caught passing a man she didn’t know on a public street unchaperoned, she was crucified.
“I have to say, you are a very lucky man, Your Grace,” Lord Steepleton said to Cedric.
He frowned, “What the devil are you talking about?”
Lord Steepleton’s lips curled. “I mean no offense. But you must be aware of the rumors of your brother and your wife, yes?”
“My private affairs are not to be discussed,” Cedric answered, his fingers tightening into fists.
