Bethany managed a week smile. “Thank you.” But she couldn’t even imagine talking to Chase. The prospect of facing him was mortifying, the idea of marrying him under these circumstances unfathomable.
But she was going to have to do both.
Resignation crept in. He would be compelled to offer for her. Wouldn’t he?
Her resignation turned to unease. What if he preferred to leave the country instead?
Bethany tapped out so many words she could hardly keep track. S-c-a-n-d-a-l. S-h-u-n-n-e-d. U-n-w-a-n-t-e-d.
Staring at her vanity, Bethany saw no discernable difference in herself, even though from this day forward all of society would view her as ruined.
Her father was likely rolling in his grave.
She began removing the pins from her coiffure, placing them in a straight line on the table, deciding not to awaken the lady’s maid she shared with Tabetha. Emily would expect her to be cheerful and regale her with details of all the ladies’ gowns and Lady Willoughby’s decorations, as she had a thousand times before. But feigning cheerfulness would be impossible tonight. Far easier to contort herself into all manner of positions in order to unfasten her own dress.
“I thought I heard you come home.” Tabetha’s friendly brown eyes peeked around the door as she entered without knocking. She didn’t look as though she’d been sleeping, even though her long blond hair was in braids and she wore only a night rail. “Why are you home so early?”
“It was bad, Tabby,” Bethany answered. “It was beyond bad.” And then she dropped her forehead onto the table.
“It isn’t like you to give into theatrics.” Her sister crossed the room and then pulled Bethany back to an upright position. Unfazed, Tabby went right to work removing the remaining pins. Rather than discarding them neatly, however, she tossed them haphazardly onto the tidy row Bethany had started.
Bethany was too tired to line them up again.
“I’m ruined. You’re ruined. We’re all ruined.” Doing her best to avoid the most embarrassing details of the story, Bethany laid out the unfortunate turn of events that evening.
By the end of the sad tale, Tabetha had brushed out Bethany’s long brown hair, weaved it into one long braid, and tied off the end.
But whereas Bethany had, in fact, expected histrionics from her younger sister, none came.
“Let me get this straight. Instead of the sticklers catching Rachel Somerset with Lord Chaswick, they caught you? Was he kissing you? I imagine you might have enjoyed that—you’ve dangled after him as long as I can remember. I’ll admit, Beth. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I don’t! I didn’t! And I haven’t dangled after him!” As for the other, the mere suggestion that she’d enjoyed having his hand on her—
“I don’t believe that for a minute.”
Bethany hated that she felt her cheeks grow warm. Apparently, she hadn’t been as subtle about her infatuation as she’d believed.
“He wasn’t kissing me, Tabetha.” Bethany slipped out of her gown and then ducked into the night rail her sister held up for her.
Tabetha scowled in confusion. “If he wasn’t kissing you, then what’s all the uproar about?”
“It was worse.”
“Did you give him your virtue?” Her sister’s eyes couldn’t have opened any wider.
“No. Nothing like that.” Or had it been? Up until that moment, Bethany hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on the spanking itself. Or the warmth of his hand in between each swat, when it had seemed he was soothing her…
“Then what?”
“He… was… spanking me,” Bethany mumbled.
“Thanking you for what?”
“Spanking me.”
“Spanking you?”
“Yes, spanking me! Walloping my backside. S-P-A-N-K-I-N-G!” Eight.
Her younger sister fell silent at this. Bethany could hardly blame her. It was confounding. She herself never would have imagined such a thing…
“As in punishing you? Pardon me for sounding dense, but why on earth would he do such a thing, and why would this lead to our family’s ruination?”
Bethany would not admit to comprehending why anyone would do such a thing. But she had an idea…
“You’ll have to ask Mother. Simply trust me when I tell you, it’s likely your come-out will be canceled. On the way home, Crabtree said Lady Casterley was providing detailed accounts to every guest who hadn’t actually witnessed it, and Lady Stokely declared me to be a trollop. She said without a doubt it will be in all the papers…”
It would have been so much better if her mother had ranted and raved in response to her companion’s running commentary, but she’d sat silently across from Bethany. Looking… defeated.
Disappointed.
Tabetha giggled but then smothered it with one withering glance from Bethany. “If it wasn’t ruinous, even you must admit it’s rather hilarious. I can’t help but picture you turned over Chaswick’s knee like that. I do wish I’d been there.”
This time, the glance Bethany shot her sister was more murderous than withering.
From Bethany’s point of view, there was nothing whatsoever to laugh at.
They were going to have to return to Westerley Crossings in shame and might not ever be welcomed into the ton again.
Tears stung her eyes. Drat, she hadn’t wanted to become a watering pot over this. It wasn’t as though she’d been ravished. And yet…
She burst into tears.
“Hush, hush, I’m sorry, Beth. I’m sorry to laugh. But let’s look to the bright side. You get to marry Lord Chaswick! It can’t be all that bad.” Tabetha propped herself on the bench, wrapping both arms around her. The sympathy only managed to draw another bout of sobs from Bethany.
Because her annoyingly pretty, outlandishly likable younger sister was going to have to forgo her come-out for God only knew how long. Their only hope was that the scandal didn’t make for a permanent state of affairs.
“But it is bad. Tabby, it is.”
Tabetha giggled, and Bethany sobbed even harder.
Chapter 7
The Day After
“Rise and shine, My Lady!”
Bethany groaned.
“Your mother wants you properly dressed so that you may present yourself in the library within half an hour.” Emily threw back the drapes, filling the room with sunlight, all the while sounding far too chipper in light of what they all faced—in light of what Bethany faced.
It was too early for this. Bethany didn’t remember how many times she’d climbed out of bed throughout the night. Unable to sleep, she’d organized the items on her vanity, refolded several drawers of clothing, and then organized the vanity a second and third time. She felt like she’d only just fallen asleep.
All the while, she’d replayed the evening’s events over and over in her head. On one hand, if she’d not gone to the folly to warn Chase about the trap, she would have absolutely nothing to worry about this morning. But on that same hand, if she hadn’t warned him, Chase would instead be forced to make an offer to Rachel Somerset...