Susannah glanced between them, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “Perhaps it’s all the wagering at the card tables that has done this.”
Both Javenia and John turned to look at her.
“Forgive me,” Javenia said, “but of what do you speak?”
Susannah adjusted in her seat, pulling the hood of her dark blue cloak closer around her head. “Lord Roberts often plays at the card tables. Maybe he wagered too high and now has to repay Lord Rupert or Lord Falcross.”
Javenia scoffed, but John held up a hand. “No, she might be right. Why else would he put up with them? Perhaps arranging a match between Algenon and Miss Weston is the only way he can pay his debt.”
The carriage turned and Javenia braced herself, not wanting a repeat of the morning. Already her skin had begun to tinge purple around the scratch on her forehead.
She cleared her throat. “Miss Weston has a decent dowry with little need to marry. Her father is a viscount so that puts her a step above Algenon, so why bother securing his hand?”
“Because no man will have her.” John crossed his arms. “It is no secret among gentlemen that she is…” he paused for a moment. “Perfidious.”
Javenia smiled at the word. John always had enjoyed more impressive language. He was right, though. Miss Weston was untrustworthy in every aspect of her life. Any man who married her would have to resign himself to her infidelity.
“In addition,” John continued. “Marrying a future baron is still advantageous, especially to Lord Falcross. If his future grandson becomes the baron, that is one more person he has under his influence. Besides, he may be getting tired of finding matches for his daughters. Miss Weston is his last, and I am certain he is more than ready to be done with the business.”
Javenia barely heard the last sentence, caught up in the thought of someone else having Algenon’s children. It made her sick. So sick she thought she might cast up her accounts on the floor of the carriage.
Luckily, the barouche stopped, and a footman opened the door. Javenia waited as John and Susannah disembarked and then allowed the young man to help her down. People bustled around the courtyard, many of which being visitors who had come to see the menagerie in the Lion Tower.
They followed the crowds of people, staying close so as not to be separated. Algenon had instructed John to meet him near the tiger’s enclosure at the appointed time. They were ten minutes early, so Javenia had no doubt that they would find one another.
The smell assaulted her before they even reached the tower. The mixture of animal droppings and unwashed bodies being met with the humidity of the enclosed space had her reaching for her handkerchief. Walls painted with bright colors resembling the jungle greeted them as they entered. The cacophony of sounds from both animals and people filled the semi-circle that made up the tower.
As they moved among the masses, Javenia began to doubt the wisdom in meeting in such a place. How had she thought she and Algenon would be able to hear one another let alone find any private space to speak?
Thankfully, the crowd thinned the closer they got to the tigers’ cages. Javenia searched the faces, desperate to see Algenon’s familiar sharp jaw and intelligent gaze. Then he was there, standing near one of the wooden enclosures, his head tipped to the side as he strained to hear the person at his side.
Javenia picked up her pace, butterflies erupting in her chest. The woman next to Algenon turned, her profile becoming visible, and she froze. Why was Miss Weston here?
Then she took in the rest of the party. Lords Falcross, Rupert and Roberts, as well as Phillipa and Lady Roberts. John closed the distance and took Algenon’s hand, a smiling Susannah on his arm. Javenia watched as if in a dream, or more accurately a nightmare. Lord Roberts spotted her first, his eyes narrowing and his lips turning down. There was a hardness about his gaze that made her unconsciously take a step back.
Phillipa turned from listening to something Lord Rupert was saying, and her face brightened. When she moved to greet Javenia, however, Lord Roberts put out a hand to stop her.
Algenon turned at that moment and where she’d hoped to see excitement, there was only wide-eyed panic. He didn’t want her here. It was evident in the set of his shoulders and the way he flicked a glance in his father’s direction.
She took another step back. Lord Roberts separated himself from the group and approached her.
“Miss Harris.” She barely heard above the din.
Suddenly the smell was overwhelming, the sounds too harsh on her ears, and the sight of Miss Weston’s smirk nauseated her. Lord Roberts took hold of her arm and pulled her away. Her skin crawled at his touch and the old fear ignited.
Bending to speak into her ear, he said, “Why do you never listen? I told you to stay away from my son.”
She tried to stammer an excuse, but the words were stuck in her throat. Why was Algenon just standing there, staring as his father led her away from the group? Did he not see how humiliating a situation he’d put her in? How frightened he’d made her?
Then she realized the note had only been for John and Susannah, not for her. He wasn’t saving her because she hadn’t been wanted. Pain radiated through her core, but she ignored it. Pushing back the urge to run she latched on to the anger her humiliation had ignited.
She stopped, yanking her arm from Lord Roberts. He would not bully her in such a way. “This is a public place,” she said loudly. “You do not own it, and I am allowed to be wherever I choose to be here. Please refrain from handling me in such a manner ever again.”
Lord Roberts’s head jerked back, pink staining his cheeks. Whether from anger or embarrassment, she did not know, but she would not stay long enough to find out.
Taking one last glance over her shoulder, she confirmed that Algenon had not moved. He remained rooted to the spot, but now his gaze was cast down. He couldn’t even look her in the eye.
A burning in her eyes warned her that if she did not leave soon she would make a spectacle of herself. Never had Algenon failed to protect her from embarrassment or scorn, but it seemed even childhood heroes had their limits… and hers had reached his.
