Aunt Lilly stood upright, her chest heaving, her florid face trembling with emotion. “You have brought shame to us.”
They disappeared into the house, leaving the three of them standing outside in the fog-laden air.
“You’re not a servant,” the stranger at her side said.
“I never said I was. That was your assumption.”
“Of course,” he said dryly. “One can naturally assume a lady to be at a Society of the Mercaii meeting.”
“What sort of meeting?” Uncle Bertrand asked.
The man at her side furnished the details. “They’re given to studying oddities of nature, the supernatural. No doubt ghosts and goblins and the like.”
Her uncle turned and looked at her in contempt.
“Your Gift again, Veronica?”
She clasped her hands together, feeling the cold seep from her bare feet all the way up through her body. Or maybe her soul had simply turned to ice.
“I merely wanted an answer, Uncle.”
“And did giving you an answer require that you remove your clothing?”
She’d never heard her uncle’s voice quite that loud. The neighbors were probably enjoying the spectacle.
She’d never thought to be reprimanded on the front steps of her uncle’s townhouse. For that matter, she hadn’t thought to return home naked, or nearly so.
Dear God, what had she done? Any criticism leveled at her was rightfully earned. She’d been worse than an idiot—she’d been a gullible, naïve idiot.
Her uncle mounted the steps in front of her; but when she would have followed him, he held up his hand.
“Do you think to enter this house with no further ramifications for your actions, Veronica? You are not welcome here.”
“While I agree that your niece’s actions were reprehensible,” the stranger said, “surely banishment is a bit much?”
Uncle Bertrand ignored him, addressing his comment to her.
“You have set upon your own course, Veronica. Continue on with it.” He glanced at the man at her side. “At least you found yourself a titled protector.”
“You know who I am?”
“Montgomery Fairfax,” Uncle Bertrand said. “An American, recently come to England to prove your right to the title of 11thLord Fairfax of Doncaster. I’m the Earl of Conley, a member of the Committee for Privileges of the House of Lords, sir. I oversaw your application.”
“Should I thank you for your decision, sir?”
“It was a fair one. It’s an old title and the line of succession was proven successfully, for all that you’re an American.”
Uncle Bertrand’s glance swept up and down Montgomery in a gesture no doubt meant to be insulting.
The man at her side stiffened.
“A fact that might adequately explain your part in tonight’s disaster. However, my niece is not exempted by ignorance. She knows what constitutes proper behavior.”
She took a step forward, wondering what she could say to soften her uncle’s anger. She hadn’t undressed herself. The fact that she couldn’t remember exactly what had happened was a worry, but was gullibility punishable to such a degree? Surely, he couldn’t mean what he said? Did he intend to cast her out, naked, onto the street?
“Please, Uncle. I never intended to harm you or Aunt Lilly, or any of my cousins. I only wanted to know what they thought.”
He disregarded her words, turned, and pulled the door open.
