Page 74 of The Gentlewoman Companion

Far more difficult than saying a clever line at a party was the mercy she had presented Miss Trelawney. The act had changed her, expanded her heart. It put her in mind of another line she had marked. She found it and recorded the sentiment: “In the midst of calamity, generosity is everything.” That was a truth made real to her by the kindness the Halvertons showed her, a liberality she had not known existed in the world. Because of her trials, she could recognize and forgive weakness in others—as in the case of Miss Trelawney—and understand how desperation might pressure a person to do the unthinkable—as in the circumstances of the mothers at the Foundling Hospital. And as in her own case.

She flipped through the book until it fell open, her eyes landing on one line: “The loss of a good name is irreparable.”

Charles.

When it suited him, he would tell her secret, and there would be no recovery. She must take the matter in hand before he approached the house. She would take the “opportunity of improving by every misfortune.” But how? She would use every resource at her disposal to get rid of him and his threats.

She penned a brief letter telling him she would visit him at his apartments on the following day. Best to see him in person, ascertain exactly what he wanted before moving forward.

Heat pricked her forehead. Louisa fanned herself with Charles’s letter. Any hope fortified by recording platitudes from Clarissa broke. What means did she have? Certainly nothing so powerful as to stay her brother’s tongue.

Her old restless energy emerged and took flight. She stood and paced, tying her fingers up with the lacy cuffs of her sleeve. It was far more probable that society would discover her wrongdoing and reject her than that she could rid herself of Charles.

Despite her best intentions, she’d saved little of her wages. There was always a pretty pair of gloves or more ribbons that drew funds from her pockets. Perhaps she could offer her dowry—but it would go to her father. Charles would benefit indirectly, but it would not be enough to keep him from her door. So long as she was employed or had friends with money, he would haunt her. How could she keep him away without removing herself from society as well?

A light tap preceded Lady Halverton’s entrance. She placed her hand on her chest and breathed heavily.

“Oh! My lady, what is it?”

Lady Halverton held up a hand. When she regained her composure she said, “There is scandal. Miss Cron has returned to Havenwood.”

“Why?”

“Miss Cron is illegitimate, a fact I believed was known to few, but it seems the wrong person discovered it and spread the gossip over London.”

Louisa sat down heavily, shaking her head. “Start from the beginning.”

“Before Havenwood was ever conceived, Mrs. Beecham and Miss Fischer took in their niece, the offspring of their brother and a housemaid. Miss Cron was the impetus for Havenwood, as her aunts knew she was without marriage prospects or hope of unemployment. Their mistake was introducing her into society, whose memory is longer than the sisters imagined. Vicious people, unable to see their hypocrisy, insist that the illegitimate carry the sins of their parents. My heart breaks for Miss Cron.”

Of course—how had Louisa forgotten the story the countess had told her when they’d first visited Havenwood? She’d known Miss Cron was the sisters’ niece but had quite forgotten the other details. “And what of Mrs. Beecham and Miss Fischer?”

“They remain in London but may not be received by all.”

Louisa’s own nightmare played out before her in terrifying reality. If Miss Cron was cast out for merely having been born in unfavorable circumstances, how much would society revile Louisa, who had actually acted reprehensibly? She must not think of it. She must focus on Charles. Get rid of Charles.

“I see you are as stricken as I,” Lady Halverton said. “Tragically, Miss Cron will not be riding with you today, but I sent James to fetch Miss Trelawney.” After a pause, “The injustice! Miss Cron wished to marry, but her chances are low.”

Lady Halverton continued lamenting the loss of Miss Cron, but Louisa retreated into herself, all the exhaustion of keeping her secret tight falling heavily on her shoulders, rippling over her arms, sinking into her stomach, and dripping to her feet. The security of her fine lodgings, of her position, of Lady Halverton and her son’s esteem, could not hold her. The chair beneath her seemed to disappear as the winds of chance threatened to blow toward the same fate Miss Cron suffered.

“You must go. Hugh is in the parlor.” Lady Halverton’s words brought Louisa back to the present moment. Her ladyship rose and pulled Louisa to her feet.

Lord Halverton, Miss Trelawney, and Mr. Morden turned their eyes upon her as she entered the parlor, each showing pleasure upon seeing her, though Miss Trelawney was a little reticent. With what coldness would they greet her if they knew? Would they send her away as quickly as Miss Cron was exiled?

The urge to flee, to fly, to escape, tortured her even as she returned their good afternoons. Halverton was assuring them that all could fit comfortably in his landau, while Mr. Morden clearly wanted to drive his jauntier phaeton, though it seated only two.

A phaeton! Just the thing to calm the snapping, jumping tightness that popped inside Louisa. She required the reassuring warmth of the leads in her hands, the bounce of the carriage, the wind in her face. In truth, she yearned to run until she reached Charles and beg him to hold his silence forever, barter whatever he required to keep her shame hidden. But she could not excuse herself from company without rousing suspicion.

“I will accompany you in the phaeton,” Louisa blurted, feeling Lord Halverton’s eyes fall upon her. She lifted her chin, keeping her gaze steadily on Mr. Morden, who was both delighted and surprised. Though she half expected Lord Halverton to read her mood and object, he did not.

Mr. Morden glanced between Louisa and Lord Halverton. “James, let’s trade places. I want you to feel how smoothly my phaeton cuts corners, even at a clip.”

Yes. If she was with James—Lord Halverton—their agreement would force him to give up the reins, allowing her to channel her anxieties into leading the horses. She turned her eyes on him, hopeful, but kept her features in check. It would not do to alarm him.

Miss Trelawney fluttered her lashes coquettishly. “I would be delighted to accompany you, Mr. Morden.”

Lord Halverton agreed and fetched Graham, as with two carriages they required two grooms. The two couples settled themselves in their respective carriages and set off for Hyde Park. Louisa waited for Lord Halverton to offer the reins. When he did not, she opened her palms for the leads, and he relinquished them.

“Very good,” he said and then tried to get them back.