The scar on his arm was permanent, a reminder of the night that had changed everything. But it was not just the scar that troubled him. It was the regret, the lingering animosity he couldn’t shake off toward Lady Jaclyn. She had never apologized for the scandal, and he suspected she wouldn’t. He did not hold her entirely to blame, of course. Her brother had been the one to launch the accusations. But that did not change the fact that his life had been irrevocably altered because of her presence.
Still, something—something he refused to acknowledge—kept him tethered to Easton Abbey. As much as he hated to admit it, part of him did not want to leave. There was something about this place, something about the absence of society's watchful eye, that made him feel free. Free from the judgment, free from the expectations. The door to the game room creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed off the stone floors. Kingston’s gaze lifted from his glass, his eyes narrowing as he saw the tall figure of the Marquess of Easton enter.
“Still brooding in here, I see,” Easton remarked, his tone light but full of the knowing sympathy that came from years of friendship. The marquess had been a constant presence in his life since their days at Eton. There was no one Kingston trusted more—save his other good friend, the Earl of Foxmoore.
Though in this instance, Easton was the one that offered him a place of solitude by allowing him to stay at his estate. Easton Abbey was a refuge of sorts. Kingston didn’t think he deserved his friends’ unwavering loyalty at times, though he would offer the same to either of them if they needed it. “I must say, the brooding gentleman routine is starting to become tiresome,” Easton drawled. “Do you plan to stay locked away in here forever?”
Kingston smiled faintly, though it did not reach his eyes. “And what would you have me do, Easton? I can hardly return to London and listen to the wagging tongues.”
Easton raised an eyebrow. “That’s what I wanted to speak to you about. Are you so certain that there will still be talk?” He folded his arms over his chest. “And I’ve meant to ask you about the Marquess of Finley.”
The tone of the conversation had shifted, and Kingston set his glass down with a quiet clink, his expression becoming more serious. “I’m not sure what scandal they’re discussing now, nor do I honestly care. I just do not wish to hear any of it." He narrowed his gaze. “And what of Finley?”
“I wondered if you were aware of his connection to my wife,” Easton replied smoothly, stepping farther into the room. He moved to pour himself a drink from the decanter on the sideboard.
“Connection?” Kingston scoffed, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. Why did Easton always have to be so bloody cryptic? “In what way?”
Easton turned to face Kingston and then took a sip of his drink He regarded him with an almost knowing expression. “He is Charlotte’s elder brother.”
Kingston furrowed his brow, and then a memory came to him from that night. He cursed under his breath. “Good God… She’s the one who retrieved the pistols we used in the duel. How did I not make that connection…”
“The man should never have involved her in that,” Easton continued, his voice tinged with disgust. “I almost want to beat him for being so stupid.” He took another sip of his brandy. “But I cannot do that. As Charlotte loves the fool I will have to smile and be nice when he visits.”
Kingston’s chest tightened, a flicker of something darker filling his thoughts. “He is coming here?”
“Oh yes,” Easton said. “She received a missive today. Lord Finley is to arrive in a week. I am thrilled, as you can tell.” His voice was full of disgust as he spoke. Easton did not want his new brother by marriage to visit. “But Charlotte is happy, and I will not do anything to make her uncomfortable.” He narrowed his gaze. “So, if you’re staying, I need you to act the gentleman too and please do not kill the man.”
Kingston regarded his friend and then smiled. He had a new reason to stay at Easton Abbey. He wouldn’t kill the man, but that did not mean he couldn’t make the man miserable in other ways... “I promise I will not kill the man,” he told his friend.
With that, Kingston made a silent vow to himself. He would stay in Easton Abbey for a little longer, biding his time, and when the Marquess of Finley arrived, he would ensure that the man realized the error of his ways and his terrible choice in friends.
With a final nod to Easton, Kingston returned to his seat by the fire, his mind already racing with plans and schemes. There was something about this coming encounter that felt like the final pieces of a puzzle falling into place—and he would make sure it played out on his terms.
Two
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the grounds of Havenwood Academy as Jaclyn and Ella strolled through the expansive gardens. The rich scent of the late-blooming roses and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze added a sense of tranquility to their conversation. The air was thick with the anticipation of autumn, the coolness of the coming season beginning to settle in.
Ella, though a newcomer to Havenwood, was proving to be an easy companion, and Jaclyn found herself drawn to her despite the hint of mystery surrounding the young woman. Ella had a quiet strength, something Jaclyn admired, but there was also an underlying sadness in her gaze—a sadness she had yet to fully explain. The two ladies walked in comfortable silence for a moment before Jaclyn turned toward Ella with a soft smile.
“I love walking the grounds of Havenwood,” Jaclyn remarked, her eyes taking in the vast grounds, the rows of trees that dotted the landscape. “The gardens are so peaceful, and there’s something about it here that makes it feel... like a place where one can breathe.”
Ella nodded, the faintest hint of a smile touching her lips. “Yes, it is quite calming.” She was quiet for a moment before she added unexpectedly, “My guardian, the Duke of Westcliffe, insisted that I attend. He thought it would be good for me... to get away for a while.”
Jaclyn, sensing the hesitation in Ella’s voice, turned toward her with curiosity. “If it’s not too forward, might I ask why you needed to come here?” Jaclyn knew her own reasons. The scandal at Vauxhall and that blasted duel her brother insisted on. If not for that she might have been preparing for a season in London. “I’m sure it’s not just for the beauty of the surroundings,” she added gently, though she made sure to keep her tone light, not wanting to pry too deeply. She did not wish to pry. Ella could tell her why she’d been sent to Havenwood if she wished, but it was none of Jaclyn’s concern either way. She only hoped they could be friends since they would be sharing a room for their duration at the school.
Ella hesitated, her eyes flickering downward for a moment as if the question had opened a wound she wasn’t ready to face. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and tinged with the weight of something unsaid. “It’s... complicated,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “It involves a rogue of some sort, someone with a... reputation. You understand… My guardian thought it would be best if I came here to remove myself from the situation.”
Jaclyn’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Did this rogue have dishonorable intentions toward you?” She had no real experience with rogues. Though her brother considered the Duke of Amberwood to be the worst sort of scoundrel—she had not been acquainted with him or his reputation before that meeting at Vauxhall.
Ella took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, her gaze distant. “Nothing ever happened, I assure you. The man in question was nothing but a gentleman, and there was no impropriety, I swear.” She nibbled on her bottom lip tentatively and then glanced away. When she turned her gaze back toward Jaclyn there was a pleading look in her golden eyes. “But the association was enough to damage my reputation, enough to make it difficult for me to remain in society.” She paused, her voice softening. “It’s all a misunderstanding, really, but my guardian believed it was best if I left town to allow time for that gossip to die down.” She held up her arms and gestured toward the garden. “So here I am.”
Jaclyn could sense the weight of the shame that Ella still carried, though she knew not all of it was deserved. “I’m so sorry, Ella,” she said gently. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you.” It also sounded completely avoidable. Much like her own circumstances.
Ella smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s not something I like to think about. But I am here now, and I must make the best of it.”
Jaclyn nodded, her heart aching for her new friend, though she could see the strength beneath Ella’s facade. “If it helps,” Jaclyn continued, “I don’t believe anyone here judges you for anything. Everyone has their own past, their own mistakes.” Every single lady in attendance at Havenwood had some scandal chasing at their heels. Jaclyn was no exception, but she did not explain that to Ella. She had no desire to tell her story. She had not even explained it all to Charlotte.
Ella gave a small, appreciative nod, the brief tension in her shoulders easing. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible. “I worried that everyone would whisper around me like they did in London.”
