Page 24 of The Season of Lady Chastity

Chastity was well aware of her father’s possessiveness when it came to his wives—Triston’s mother, her mother, and finally, Esmee, his current wife.

However, her father was not who she’d come to Lady Camden to learn about. “And you wed Lord Camden.”

“Yes, though our pairing was not akin to a love match at all.” Lady Camden smiled. It was not an expression borne of happiness or contentment, but rather one of what could have been and what was lost forever. “Camden and I have never had affection between us, though I will admit I longed for it to blossom with time. That is why I am overjoyed that Luci and Roderick found one another, and why I have defied my husband’s desires. Love is a rare thing. I have learned at least that much. When one finds it, they should hold it close and never let it go.” Eloise clasped her hands in her lap, but she was unable to hide the way they trembled. “I often wonder what might have been different if my husband were free to pursue a wife of his choosing.”

More importantly, who would Chastity’s mother have chosen as a husband if she were given a choice?

“However, that was over two decades ago. Naught can be changed now.” The melancholic air that’d fairly stifled the room dissipated. “Clara was a dear girl. Spirited with a bright future. I mourned her passing, though we were never close.”

Eloise stood, signaling that their conversation had come to an end.

“Thank you, Lady Camden.” Chastity’s voice wobbled as she rose from her chair to depart. “Thank you for sharing a bit about my mother.”

Chastity needed time—and space—to think things through and pick apart everything Eloise had shared.

“I will bid you good day, my lady.” Chastity sank into a curtsy, her head tilting forward as her gaze met the floor.

“Lady Chastity, may I offer a last piece of advice?” The urgency was clear in Lady Camden’s words. “I know I have no right; however, seeing as Clara is gone, and you are without the benefit of a mother’s words of caution…”

An ache grew in Chastity’s chest. “Please, my lady.”

“Do not be quick to wed. Impetuous decisions can result in a lifetime of regret.” Lady Camden sighed. “There is more to life than a handsome husband or an advantageous marriage. Hastily wed and wastefully led, as the saying goes. Do have a lovely afternoon, Lady Chastity. I look forward to dining with you and your sister this evening.”

Lady Camden turned and knelt near the Christmastide décor, but she was not quick enough to hide the tear that fell down her cheek.

“Good day, Lady Camden.” Chastity fled the library, thankful that the riding party hadn’t yet returned.

A deep pain sliced through her as she visualized Lady Camden: young, beautiful, hopeful, and promised to Lord Camden—a man she thought to love with no hope of that affection being returned.

The sorrow and reality of the unfulfilled future had Chastity thinking of the only portrait of her mother she possessed. Had Clara, in all her beauty and youth, shared Lady Camden’s regret and grief?

Yet, was Clara, only a year after her marriage to Downshire, trying to correct the mistakes she’d made by reconnecting with her dearest Cam? There was so much Chastity still did not know and it seemed each time she learned something new, it only deepened the mystery surrounding her mother.

Chastity hurried through the abandoned corridors of Oxburgh Hall on a path to the chambers she shared with Prudence. If it were possible, Chastity was more confused than ever. Had her mother still loved Lord Camden even after she’d wed another? Could Luci’s father be Clara’s dearest Cam? Her mother had asked Cam to meet her, saying he was the man she truly loved. Had she been planning to run away with him after Chastity was born? What of Prudence—had she meant to leave her and Downshire behind?

It seemed that her conversation with Lady Camden only gave Chastity more questions that needed to be answered.

Chastity halted outside the door to her room as she glanced down the hall in the direction Bastian had fled the night before. Voices could be heard coming from behind a door that stood ajar down the corridor. Once again, she was drawn to seek the earl out—if only to have Bastian tell her exactly what Prudence had been saying for months.

The past was better left…in the past.

Chapter 7

Bastian nodded, accepting a plate of apple custard pie, though he could not eat another bite. The long table was adorned with a blue tablecloth and bits of torn paper made to appear like snow with tray after tray of dishes filled to brimming: meats, cheeses, soups, and now savory and sweet dessert pies, custards, and tarts. The only things missing were boughs of holly and garland swinging from the chandeliers above. It appeared that every guest, besides Bastian’s mother, was currently partaking of the extravagant meal after a busy day spent exploring the countryside surrounding Oxburgh Hall.

Lord Comstock and his cronies had been seated near the foot of the table, surrounded by the younger party attendees—blessedly. However, that meant Lady Chastity had been placed between Ruthven and Tamblerton with Liddell directly across from her. She did not appear enthralled with any of the three gentlemen beyond idle small talk between courses. Lady Prudence outright ignored the four gentlemen—and the custard that’d been set before her.

“My dear Lord Mansfield,” the Duchess of Atholl said, plucking at his sleeve. “The lovely Ophelia tells me your mother is not well after her journey to Oxburgh Hall.”

Bastian pulled his gaze from Lady Chastity and smiled at the kindly woman seated next to him. He’d quickly suspected that the evening’s seating arrangements had been organized by Montrose to keep Comstock and his cronies as far from Bastian as possible. While he appreciated Montrose’s thoughtfulness, Bastian also longed to be seated closer to Lady Chastity—and not entrenched between Lady Camden, the Duchess of Atholl, and the Dowager Countess Coventry. The three matrons were far more intimidating—and calculating—than Comstock ever was.

“She has never done well with traveling, I fear,” Bastian shared, gaining nods of understanding from the ladies seated around him. “However, I think she will be just the thing by morning. Lady Hawke was kind enough to make certain she had several books to keep her entertained.”

“Me Ophelia gal knows jus’ the thing.” Lady Coventry cackled. “It be that devil’s hair of ‘ers, I tell ya.”

Several guests turned in their direction, including Lady Hawke, who gave the dowager countess a wide smile despite her mother’s frown. In any other situation, Bastian would be hard-pressed to imagine a regal woman such as the Duchess of Atholl being in the same house, let alone the same room, as Lady Coventry. However, as Lord Hawke’s grandmama, the two ladies, despite their differences, sat across from one another in mock harmony. If Bastian and Lord Hawke ever gained a moment to speak, he would ask after his grandmother.

The women fell into easy conversation about Lady Luci’s coming nuptials, and Bastian was free to focus on Lady Chastity once more. When she left the breakfast room that morning, he’d gone to his mother’s chambers to see to her comfort and had then returned downstairs. The entire time he’d visualized Chastity meeting with the author of her note in a clandestine location. Embarrassed to admit it, he’d roamed the empty halls for hours, hoping to spot Chastity again, but she’d never appeared. Bastian had even returned to the path bordering the moat where they’d first met, but she wasn’t there either.