“Yes,” Carenza said. “But at what cost?”
CHAPTER22
The next morning, Aragon appeared in Julian’s bedroom with a collection of newspapers under his arm.
“It’s bad,” Aragon said, dumping the papers on Julian’s bed. “Lady Carenza’s name is all over the papers and not just in the social sections. Her family history has been exhumed and minutely examined, and she has been found deficient in every way.”
“God …” Julian pressed his fingers to his eyes. He hadn’t slept well. The image of Carenza’s face as he’d lost his temper had never left his mind. “I hope her father doesn’t see them.”
“I’m fairly certain he will,” Aragon said as he paced around Julian’s room. “Did you see that obnoxious Lady Smythe-Harding at the ball last night? She was wallowing in all the attention as she told that ridiculous story about Lady Carenza stealing her family jewels. If you hadn’t ordered me to be nice to everyone, I would’ve had a few choice words with her myself.”
“The last thing we need is to make everything worse,” Julian said.
“How could we possibly do that?” Aragon stared at him. “Lady Carenza’s reputation has been destroyed while yours—”
“Has been validated. I am aware of that.”
“Then what are you going to do about it?” Aragon demanded. “And please don’t tell me that you plan to do nothing. That poor girl sacrificed herself for you.”
“I didn’t ask her to do so.”
“That’s your defense? Good Lord, Julian. I thought you were better than this.”
“Aragon, I’ve just woken up. Please give me at least a moment to gather my thoughts and decide on a plan of action.”
“That’s better.” Aragon scowled at him. “I like the Musgroves. They don’t deserve this.”
He departed as abruptly as he’d come, leaving Julian with a sick feeling in his stomach and a pile of newspapers that barely mentioned his name but painted Carenza in such awful terms that he sometimes struggled to read them. The consensus was that she would no longer be welcome in polite society, as she was as immoral as her infamous mother.
He got out of bed, dressed as quickly as possible, and went down to breakfast. Simon was already at the table eating. He stood up as Julian came in. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning.” Julian piled his plate with food that he wasn’t sure he could eat and sat down.
Simon cleared his throat. “Is there anything in particular you wish me to deal with this morning?”
Julian just looked at him.
“I heard there was a slight contretemps at the ball last night.”
“Slight?”
“I understand from your brother that your reputation was questioned but that you came through it unscathed.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” Julian drank some coffee. “Did he also mention the only reason that happened is because Lady Carenza sacrificed her own reputation for mine?”
“Yes, sir.” Simon hesitated. “I must admit that despite what you told me, I thought Mrs. Sheraton was the instigator of the advertisement and that Lady Carenza was covering up for her.”
“Mrs. Sheraton certainly has a lot to answer for.” Julian ate a small amount of ham and nibbled on some toast.
“I suppose Lady Carenza will be returning to the country,” Simon said. “I doubt she’ll be received in society.”
Julian winced. Not seeing her again, watching her fade away in disgrace—it was an insult to everything she was.
The butler came in. “Lady Landon is here, sir. I’ve put her in the front parlor and ordered some tea.”
Good God, that was all he needed … Julian’s headache returned with a vengeance and he set down his cup. “I suppose I’d better go and get it over with. If I’m not out in fifteen minutes, please interrupt our meeting and insist that I am urgently required elsewhere.”
His mother was standing by the fireplace, her critical gaze trained on the painting he’d recently acquired and hung above the mantelpiece.
