Page 92 of A Winter Scandal

“Are you absolutely certain that it was true?”

Ian’s brows rose in surprise. “What? Of course it’s true. I would not make something like that up. Gabriel, what are you on about?”

“I talked to Rawdon this afternoon. He denied that anything happened between him and Grace Fortner.”

“Well, he would, wouldn’t he? He’s not going to admit that he tried to seduce her and, failing that, tried to force her.”

“I believe him.”

Ian stared at Gabriel. “No. He’s lying; he has to be. You know the kind of fellow he is. He hurt Miss Fortner. He hurt Jocelyn. That was why Jocelyn fled. It must be. Otherwise …” Ian’s voice trailed off.

“Otherwise we have been wrong in blaming Rawdon all this time,” Gabriel finished. “He showed me a letter from Jocelyn, Ian. She asked him for forgiveness.”

“What? What did she say?”

“That she wronged him. That she had been deceived. She thought herself in love. I can only assume she meant that she had given herself to this man she was in love with, that he is Matthew’s father.”

“Good God!” Ian stared at Gabriel, thunderstruck.

“Apparently she has been living on the Continent this whole time. But she decided to return. She said she was coming to me for help.”

“Then she is here? You said you had not found her.”

“I haven’t. I don’t know where she has gone. But that is what she said to Rawdon in the letter. That is why I have been out searching for her. After he showed me the letter, I was even more certain that Matthew is her child.”

“This is—I don’t know what to say.” Ian passed a hand over his face. “Are you certain the letter was from Jocelyn? Perhaps Rawdon made it up.”

“I read it. It was in her hand. I’ve received hundreds of letters from her; I know her writing well.”

“How can this be? I thought—” Ian’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I thought that he had killed her. He was always a cold, hard bastard when he chose. You know that. I thought he got angry with her and hit her, perhaps not even meaning to kill her, but … you know.”

Gabriel nodded. “I know. Sometimes I thought so, too, when she was nowhere to be found.”

Ian dropped heavily into his chair and picked up his glass again, taking a long drink of it.

“Did Miss Fortner herself tell you the story of what Rawdon did?” Gabriel asked.

Ian glanced at him, startled. “I—what does it matter?”

“It matters, Ian. You told me you knew it to be true. I received the impression that Miss Fortner revealed this to you herself. That it was not merely a rumor.”

“It was not a mere rumor!” Ian jumped to his feet, looking agitated. “No, she did not tell me herself, but I was told by someone who would have had no reason to lie.” He frowned. “It involved a woman’s honor; it was too important to have been mere gossip.”

Gabriel sighed. Whatever Ian said, the doubt was clear on his face. Ian had obviously believed what he had told Gabriel, but it had been no more than rumor and gossip. And Gabriel had believed it; he had jumped to believe that Rawdon had wronged his sister. To have believed otherwise, he realized now, would have been to admit that his beloved little sister had simply wanted to leave them. That she was not the innocent victim, but the one who had wronged those who trusted her.

“I can’t believe that Jocelyn—” Ian began, then stopped.

“I know. It is hard. We regarded Jocelyn too much as the little girl we had known and not a fully grown woman.”

Ian nodded and sat down again, picking up his now empty glass. “I think I’ll have another of these.”

“I believe I will join you.”

Thea went to Damaris’s house the next afternoon to pick up her gown for the party. The snow from Christmas had all melted away, but a bitter chill was in the wind, and Thea was glad that she had left Matthew at home with his nursemaid. Damaris’s house was still a beehive of activity, though it was now aimed more at decorating than at cleaning. As Thea followed Damaris up the stairs to try on the dress the maid had altered, Thea noticed that the servants were all whispering to each other as they worked.

When she asked Damaris about the low buzz of chatter, Damaris glanced at Thea in surprise. “Have you not heard? I thought nothing got past Mrs. Brewster.”

“It rarely does, but I was busy at the church today, and I haven’t really talked to her. Has something happened?”