“It was a m-m-mistake.” Bethany shivered again. She’d been telling herself this over and over again. M-i-s-t-a-k-e. Seven letters.
Of course, Chase hadn’t realized it had been her when he’d done… that. And although the experience had been mortifying, he hadn’t hurt her really.
She could have recovered from a few swats.
However, the fact that essentially all of London had swooped down to see her bare arse…! The thought had her groaning.
“Of course, it was a mistake. Chaswick may be somewhat of a rake but he isn’t an outright scoundrel.” Lady Ravensdale touched Bethany’s hand, encouraging her to take another sip. “Drink,” she ordered again. “Tea always helps in these situations.”
Bethany sipped the hot liquid and couldn’t help but agree. Although… brandy or whisky might provide her with considerably more relief.
“I only meant to warn him,” she managed.
“Of course, you did.”
So many thoughts swirled around her head. It had been bad. Very bad. It was likely she’d not only ruined her own reputation but that she’d ruined her sister’s as well. Her entire family’s! How could any of them ever hold their head up again after this?
People would take one look at her and imagine…
“Tabetha will be devastated,” Bethany breathed. “She’s supposed to come-out next week. Mother will have to cancel her party. And Tabetha has been looking forward to it for so long. Worse than that, we’ll have to return to the country. We’ll be shunned.” S-h-u-n-n-e-d. Bethany counted the letters on her fingers. Seven letters again and yet the reality meant the end of life as she knew it.
“Hush, hush.” Lady Ravensdale had one arm wrapped around her now. “It mightn’t be as bad as all that.”
At this supposition, Bethany glanced over at the deluded woman. “You cannot believe that. I was lying across his lap. He was… And I was…” Oh, dear, she couldn’t even say it out loud. Of course, she was ruined. R-u-i-n-e-d. One-two-three-four-five-six. Six letters.
Her vision swam. Of all the people she’d ever imagined getting ruined, she was not one of them.
A knock sounded and Bethany sat up straight, bracing herself for the worst. It would be her mother, of course.
But it was not. It was Lady Ravensdale’s married daughter, Lady Hawthorne.
“Close the door and come in. What are they saying, Natalie?” The countess’s daughter was a younger version of her mother. Blond, slim and beautiful but also dignified and always optimistic and kind.
The younger girl winced, shaking her head. “It’s bad. Oh, Lady Bethany. If I had my pistol, I’d shoot him myself.”
“When did you acquire a pistol?” Her mother frowned.
“Garrett gave it to me on our last anniversary. Not to worry, Mother. He’s taught me how to use it properly.”
“But what of my grandchildren?”
“It’s kept locked away.”
“Then why have one?”
“Mother, may we focus?” Lady Hawthorne met Bethany’s eyes with a sympathetic gaze.
“Honestly,” Bethany intoned. “I’d much rather discuss your pistol than my reputation right now.”
Someday, she determined, she would laugh at this. But at the mention of husbands and children, tears welled in her eyes. She’d not only ruined her own chance of ever having a family but her younger sister’s as well!
And the mention of pistols brought her brother to mind. Of course, he would think it necessary to defend her honor. Against Chase! The mere idea of it nearly stole her breath.
It must never come to that. Never!
This time when the door burst open no knock preceded it.
Her mother.
The look on Bethany’s dear mother’s face confirmed Lady Hawthorne’s assessment of the situation. Mrs. Crabtree, her mother’s longtime companion, scuttled in behind her wearing a pinched smile. If Bethany were to take a guess, she’d imagine the companion appeared almost… satisfied.
“Is it true?” her mother demanded, hysteria in her voice. “Did you trap Lord Chaswick?”
“Mary, calm down.” Few people referred to her mother by her given name but Lady Ravensdale’s tone didn’t allow for argument.
But... trap him? “I didn’t—I would never—!" Surely, no one imagined that she had done that on purpose?
“How can I calm down, Josephine? Even you would be vexed.” Her mother lowered herself onto the nearest chair, fanning herself as though she was likely to succumb to a fit of vapors. Bethany turned her head away, unable to bear seeing her mother like this. Taking note of her surroundings, she tapped her fingers on her thighs. They were in a library. It was a comfortable room, really. Someone had lit a fire in the hearth and the chairs and divan were all upholstered in a soft burgundy velvet.
Even the carpet was lovely. She dropped her gaze to the floor. If only there was an even number of chairs. Three chairs made no sense and made the room feel… unfinished…
“What have you to say for yourself?” her mother demanded. “I leave you alone for all of half an hour and the next I hear, my daughter is mired in the scandal of the year—of the century—at the first ball of the Season, no less! If you wanted to land a husband, there are far better ways to go about it than this.”
“I wasn’t… It was a mistake, Mother.” She inhaled. “He thought I was Lady Starling.”
“Lady Starling is in Brighton,” Lady Hawthorne provided, quite unnecessarily. “Remember, Mother? She wrote me last January. She’s to visit her late husband’s family.”
“That is correct.” Lady Ravensdale nodded.
But Bethany’s own mother looked fit to be tied, eyes blazing, nostrils flared. “What does Lady Starling have to do with any of this? You are the only person—that I’m aware of—who made a spectacle of herself in the garden tonight.”
“If you don’t mind my saying, these things do require two persons, Lady Westerley,” Lady Hawthorne inserted before meeting Bethany’s gaze with a shrug.
Bethany’s mother sniffed.
“Lord Chaswick was expecting Lady Starling, but it was a ruse… I went outside to warn him…” As Bethany formed the explanation, she realized that none of it really mattered. Her actions were going to bring disgrace upon their entire family. “Is this going to ruin Tabetha as well?” Bethany felt sick inside, already knowing the answer.
“I can’t imagine how it won’t. It’s one thing to trap a husband but to expose yourself in such a manner! Oh!” Her mother closed her eyes.
“She says it was a mistake, Mary.”
“I went to warn him—”
But her mother wasn’t listening to anyone. “None of us will be accepted by society again.” Her mother closed her eyes and a tear spilled down her powdered cheek.
An even stronger wave of guilt washed over Bethany that she’d made her mother cry. The only time she’d ever seen her mother cry had been the day of her father’s funeral.
“Lady Bethany’s circumstances are indeed discouraging, for now. But I’ve some experience with this sort of thing. Her future—Lady Tabetha’s future—all of your futures—depend on how you manage the scandal from this moment forward.” Lady Ravensdale’s voice amazingly seemed to penetrate Bethany’s mother’s horrified dismay. If not her pessimism.