The duchess ascended the small, raised dais at the end of the ballroom and clapped her hands to quieten the guests.
“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for attending this charity ball to aid the inspiring work of Mrs. Mountjoy and the Cartwrights to save the impoverished children of London from the worst of fates.” She gestured for Miss Cartwright, who was holding her speech in her visibly shaking hands, to step forward. “Miss Cartwright has agreed to speak to you tonight. Please give her a warm welcome.”
The guests obligingly clapped, and Julian sensed Miss Cartwright was ready to bolt. But she was tougher than she looked and spoke up in a clear, precise voice about the work she and her brother did, and that of Mrs. Mountjoy, and how worthy a cause it was.
Julian could only admire her single-mindedness. Any thought he’d had of her being the perfect wife for him had disappeared once he’d realized she had a true vocation in life. He doubted even Aragon could convince her otherwise. And there was the little matter of his feelings for Carenza. …
The applause when she finished was prolonged, and she blushed to the roots of her hair. Mrs. Mountjoy stepped up to offer her thanks, and the duchess was just about to offer some closing remarks when someone else jumped up on the dais. Jeremy Calloway.
“Forgive me for interrupting, Your Grace,” Calloway spoke very loudly. “But you have been grievously deceived by a bunch of charlatans led by Julian Laurent!”
“Good God.” Julian started to push his way toward the dais.
“Ask Mr. Percival Walcott,” Calloway continued. “Ask Lady Brenton! They’ll tell you what a liar Laurent really is, and how he isn’t above using blackmail to get what he wants.”
“He’s right.” Percival joined Calloway on the dais. “All of this is a front for the nefarious dealings of a wicked man.” His gaze found Julian’s in the crowd. “He’s the one using these poor unsuspecting people as pawns in his game to corrupt the innocent!”
An excited murmur ran through the crowd. The duchess, who didn’t appreciate being upstaged in her own house, frowned.
“This is ridiculous,” she said. “If you have genuine grievances against Mr. Laurent, then take them up with the courts and not in my ballroom!”
“Ask him what he does at the Wheatsheaf Inn!” Calloway yelled. “He’s conspiring with the landlord to make sure hischildrenget sent to their new owners. Who do you think set up that ridiculous advertisement to lure more of us into his clutches so that he could blackmail us and the women he forces to work for him? No wonder his fortune is always increasing. It thrives on extortion and the misery of children!”
Just as Calloway finished speaking, Aragon jumped up on the dais, drew back his fist, and planted a facer on Calloway. With a scream, Calloway dropped to the floor.
“That’s for speaking ill of my brother!” Aragon said. He bowed to the duchess. “Apologies, Your Grace.”
Julian finally reached the front of the room, mainly because the people around him were drawing back with various expressions of amusement or horror on their faces. Julian saw Walcott, and he sorely wished he could follow his brother’s example and flatten him.
Instead, he bowed to the duchess and turned to address the guests. “I can assure you that these allegations are baseless lies, and that I will be following the duchess’s advice and referring all these matters to my barrister.”
“Not good enough,” Walcott said loudly. “I’m willing to go back to court if your perfidy is finally exposed to the world.”
Julian turned to look at Percival, his gaze icy. “The Cartwrights and Mrs. Mountjoy do excellent work to help the disadvantaged children of our city. My supposed ‘involvement’ in their organizations amounts to nothing more than being a proud member on their boards. Anything else is a figment of your depraved imagination.”
“And what about your involvement in the advertisement?” Lady Brenton shouted from the front row. “Are you more than a blackmailer? Were you secretly seeing ‘your children’ onto coaches without the knowledge of these fine institutions?”
“I was doing nothing of the sort.”
“If anyone thinks we entrust Mr. Laurent with the future employment of the children in our care, then you are sadly mistaken.” Mrs. Mountjoy spoke clearly from behind him. “Every child is escorted to their new home by me or the Cartwrights. Mr. Laurent is an honorable and admirable man, and this is simply an attempt to smear him.”
Calloway, clutching a handkerchief to his nose, got up from the floor. “Then why was he at that inn handing out money to all and sundry?” He glared at Julian. “And don’t deny it. I have witnesses.”
“That is an entirely separate matter,” Julian said. “And one I have already discussed with your father. I suggest you speak to him and refrain from commenting in public when your understanding is so limited.”
“You were at the inn more than once,” Calloway persisted. “I can prove it.”
“Did you have something to do with that advertisement from the lady who was looking for a lover, Laurent?” Walcott said loudly. “I think we all deserve an explanation.”
“On the contrary,” Julian snapped. “I think you deserve nothing but contempt for dragging the names of these good people into disrepute when the work they do is so important. Now can we proceed with the ball?”
Lady Brenton stepped forward. “Whywereyou at that inn? Were you the person who wrote the advertisement to lure more young men into your clutches so that you could blackmail them?”
A murmur ran around the ballroom, which didn’t sound particularly favorable toward Julian.
Lady Brenton smiled. “Do tell. We’re all agog for your answer.”
“He had nothing to do with it.” Carenza stepped forward from where she’d been standing with the rest of the committee. “That was me. I placed the advertisement.”
