That aside caught her attention.
"Poor thing thinks he's in love with her."
Giggles followed, and Clarissa felt their laughter like a slap across the face.
She hurried her steps, heading toward Estella near the far wall. When she approached, Estella's expression confirmed what the whispers had suggested. Something was wrong.
"We should go," Estella said, reaching for her arm.
Clarissa stopped. "Why? What's happened?"
Estella hesitated. "It might be nothing."
"Estella," Clarissa said.
"People are talking. About Kit." Estella's voice dropped and she leaned in. "They're saying he has a mistress. A woman, hidden away somewhere. And that she's…with child."
Clarissa stared at her. The sound of her own heartbeat seemed to drown out the laughter and music in the ballroom. But oddly enough, her thoughts were clear and steady.
Kit was a young, unmarried gentleman. The fact that he had a mistress was no scandal. Nor the fact that she was with child. Neither of these facts were out of the ordinary.
Her mind made the next logical step. What they were whispering about wasn't his mistress. It was that he was courting her. That he was making such a show of being madly in love with her, when he very clearly…was not.
Estella winced as she continued. "They're saying he's been courting you for your dowry. That the attention, the public displays—it was all to secure a match with money to support his…situation."
"My dowry," she echoed. The words were almost funny. If only these people knew the truth. That Kit hadn't been courting her at all. That the whole thing was a performance, paid for by his aunt.
But she couldn't say that. And so the ton had filled in the gaps with a story of their own, and somehow their version was even more humiliating than the truth.
"You know that's not the case." Estella's eyes were wide with worry. "You know Kit wouldn't?—"
"Do I?" The question came out before she could catch it. At this particular moment, she didn't know what she knew.
She knew Kit was being paid. That he needed money. And that he had secrets he wouldn't share.
And she supposed now she knew why. A mistress. A child. That was the reason he needed funds so desperately.
Her mind went to the terrace. His voice, low and rough. What if I?—
What if I need your dowry to pay for my pregnant mistress?
Perhaps that was what he'd meant to say.
"I need to find John." Clarissa's voice came out calm and steady, but whatever Estella saw in her expression had her frowning in concern.
"Clarissa, please. Let me?—"
"I'm fine." She managed a smile. "But I'd like to find my brother now."
Estella's expression said she wasn't fooled. But she let Clarissa go, and even walked at her side as Clarissa crossed the ballroom with her chin up.
She found John near the entrance. He took one look at her face and said, "We're leaving."
Her smile trembled at the worry in his eyes, but she was pleased to find that it held. Her voice even came out steady. "Yes, please."
14
The Duchess of Ashworth had not slept well.
