Page 21
After unfolding the newspaper, Emily handed it to him. Her stomach still churned, and her pulse had yet to return to a sedate cadence after she’d read the small snippet tucked into a gossip column daring to pass as TheLatest Exploits of the Genteel and Fashionable.
Codswallop and claptrap.
The column was nothing short of mean-spirited speculation and tattlemongering meant to besmirch and titillate.
How any person with a speck of morality or conscience could make a living writing such fabricated and vindictive twaddle, she couldn’t conceive. They had much to account for when they stood before the Lord. If Virgil Smellie, the slimy reporter in his hideous tweed suit, stood before her this minute, she might plant him a facer.
Emily wasn’t given to violence. Nevertheless, for Smellie, she’d make an exception.
“What is this?” Pulling his eyebrows together, Tobias eyed the paper in his hand.
She pointed to the passage that had sent her day tumbling teacup over crumpet. “Just there. That bit.”
He read the passage aloud.
“In what can only be called uncommon, heroic gallantry, the Duke of Heatherston risked his very life in Hyde Park this Monday past. In danger of being trampled by a runaway horse, his grace threw himself in the path of the savage animal, pushing a lady to safety. This reporter has learned the identity of the most fortunate woman, Mrs. Emily Grenville.”
Tobias glanced up, not at all nonplussed. No doubt he believed Emily overreacted.
“It’s just trite fluff.” He shook the paper, disgust etching his rugged features. “It’s a wonder people pay to read this drivel.”
“Keep reading.” Emily couldn’t keep the tension from making her words clipped.
Tobias obliged with a wry quirk of his mouth. He wouldn’t think she was overreacting in a few seconds.
“But was his grace truly cavalier and chivalrous, or did he take advantage?”
Tobias’s eyebrows snapped together. “What the devil?”
“It gets worse.” Emily wrapped her arms around her waist, suddenly chilled despite the spencer she wore.
His frown deepened, and then his eyes went wide as a silent oath slipped past his lips. Tobias gave her a sharp look and then continued reading aloud once more.
“It’s not for this reporter to question a peer’s intentions, but the other witnesses and I can attest that his grace did not promptly remove himself from Mrs. Grenville’s person. Nor did the lady, legs bared to her thighs, attempt to regain her feet as quickly as one in imprudent circumstances might’ve done.
“To all and sundry, it appeared his grace and Mrs. Grenville carried on an intimate conversation, oblivious to their, shall we say, compromised position.
“And the horseman, you might wonder? Who was the nefarious villain who so recklessly bore down upon a woman innocently walking the footpath?
“It was no one other than the Duke of Heatherston’s niece, Miss Avery Levingtone.”
“Bloody, blasted hel—” He broke off mid-word. “Er—I beg your pardon, Emily.”
“It’s of no consequence.” And it wasn’t. She wasn’t so arrogant as to judge someone for letting a vulgar expletive slip when something vexing happened. She’d leave that self-righteousness for others who were oblivious to the planks in their own eyes.
Staring at the news sheet, Tobias plowed a hand through his hair. Bleakness shadowed his indigo eyes, normally glinting with jollity, when he glanced up.
“Now what?”
“I’m not sure, honestly.” Emily lifted a shoulder as she brushed her fingertips across her eyebrows. “My first instinct was that we should all promptly leave London and postpone Avery’s Season until next year. But I had time to ponder during the carriage ride, and…”
Averting her gaze, she caught her lower lip between her teeth, a sliver of uncertainty holding her in check. It would reveal a part of her character she kept hidden beneath the guise of propriety.
“And?” he softly encouraged, taking a step nearer and lifting her chin with his forefinger, compelling her to meet his eyes.
His gorgeous eyes.
Why must they be mesmerizing pools she could get lost in?
