Page 77 of How to Start a Scandal

‘Who did this to you?’ he demanded. ‘Who took your innocence?’

She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she whispered.

But it did. To Seth. If William had lain with her and now Seth was to marry her... His stomach churned. William had been diagnosed with syphilis. Seth was no physician—he didn’t know how long someone might have the disease before a diagnosis could be ascertained.

‘Who was it?’ Seth asked again.

Violet’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Please, I don’t wish to say.’

‘I want to know,’ Seth replied. ‘I need to know.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she repeated. ‘He’s dead now anyway. He was killed in a duel with a jealous husband.’

Ice formed into sharp-edged knots in his gut.

He’s dead now anyway.

Dear God, it was William.

An image flashed in his mind of his brother drawing Violet into the dark shadows of the garden as Seth had done, kissing her as Seth had, sliding up her skirts...touching her.

Anger lashed at Seth. If his brother was still alive, it would only be long enough to meet over pistols at dawn. Energy swelled like a savage beast inside Seth’s chest. It flared through his muscles and left them tense in preparation for battle. His senses heightened as they did before a fight, hearing everything, seeing everything, feeling everything.

And there was much to feel.

Betrayal. Fear. Disgust.

‘Tell me his name,’ Seth said in a low voice.

Violet stiffened at the ugliness of his tone. ‘Please. It’s too...’ Her eyes welled with tears and she wiped them away. ‘It’s too mortifying. I’ve already humiliated myself enough.’

Seth frowned. She was insistent on keeping her secret.

But did she know about William? About his illness? Could it remain dormant in the body and affect the victim years later?

‘Have you had any symptoms of syphilis?’ he asked.

She blinked at him and her mouth fell open in outrage. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Seth drew from his memory to recall soldiers who had suffered from the disease. ‘Sores on your person, a rash. Sometimes a sore throat or—’

She leapt up from the seat and backed away from him. ‘How dare you?’

‘Violet, I—’

‘I confessed to you the secret I’ve been carrying inside of me for six years, the secret that ended any dreams of marriage or children or love.’ A sob escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand as if she could catch it and pull it back in. ‘And you are concerned I might have syphilis?’

‘I don’t think you do,’ Seth said hastily. ‘I don’t understand why you just won’t tell me who did this to you.’

Her face coloured a vivid shade of red. ‘Because it’s utterly mortifying, Seth. Because I’ve been a fraud for six years and the one person I thought might actually accept me has made me feel worse than the man who ruined me.’

Good God. When she put it that way, it was terrible of him. What had he done?

‘Violet.’ He got to his feet and reached for her, but she snatched her hand away from him.

She stiffened her back. ‘Good day, Lord Dalton.’ Her words frosted over the sunny room, then she spun on her heel and departed the room despite his calling after her.

He pursued her to the double doors of the drawing room and paused. Should he chase her through the house? It seemed rather uncouth, but it was better than letting her get away.