Page 34 of The Ruin of Miss Amelia Burrowes

Chapter 14

Much later that morning, Nathan hurried his pace, eager now to confront Lady Carrington and her blatant disregard for his ultimatum. If she believed he’d made idle threats about exposing Lord Carrington’s paramour and child to London Society, she would be disabused about that in short order. He’d have Mary Adams and her son on display in the most heavily frequented part of Hyde Park before the week was out. He’d no idea what Carrington had looked like, but Amelia had assured him the child was the spit and image of the man. If that was not enough, he could have Mary make a sworn statement that the child was hers. Or even better, find the midwife who’d attended Mary and have her attest to the identity of the child’s mother. That should carry enough weight even for the most ardent gossip. Still, he wouldn’t rest until the ton saw just how wrong they’d been in their censure of his wife.

Nathan had left Amelia in bed, pink and glowing from their last love making. He had every intention of rejoining her there as soon as Lady Carrington disclosed her excuse for reneging on her promise and gave him further assurances that she would do his bidding or face the dire consequences. A third chance was out of the question, especially in this situation.

He arrived at Lady Carrington’s door and plied the bronze knocker sharply. Her butler showed him to the same reception room he and Amelia had been relegated to, and Nathan stood looking at the same two insipid paintings, hoping to God the woman did not take forever to appear. Surprisingly, she stepped briskly through the door within minutes of Nathan’s arrival. Almost as though she’d been expecting him.

“Good morning, Lord Ainsley. May I offer you congratulations this morning? You and Miss Burrowes were indeed married yesterday?” She smiled brightly at him, like a bird about to impale a worm on its beak.

“Yes, my lady. We were.” Somewhat put off by her cheerful manner, Nathan nevertheless kept his stern countenance. “And we were particularly displeased when neither you nor three-quarters of our invited guests appeared.” He glared directly into the lady’s seemingly innocent face. “Did you not believe me when I told you I would bring Mary Adams and her son to London to show the Town Lord Carrington’s indiscretion? If you did not, I fear you will change your mind shortly.”

“Leave Mary and her son alone, Lord Ainsley.” Lady Carrington spoke matter-of-factly. “I fear you have worse things to concern yourself with than the scandal of ten years ago.”

“I know of nothing worse than an innocent woman being condemned for something she never did.” Nathan shook his head, puzzled in the extreme by the lady’s calm demeanor. “My wife did not break the rules of decency with your son, and you know it.”

“But what about her most recent transgression?” The lady arched an eyebrow, patently enjoying the conversation.

“Her recent transgression?” What in the name of all that was holy was the woman talking about?

“Oh, come, my lord. Do not tell me you didn’t read The Morning Post three days ago?” The archness now extended to Lady Carrington’s voice.

“I was in the midst of preparing for my wedding three days ago, my lady. I haven’t read a blessed word all week.” A sudden chill raced down Nathan’s spine. “Are you telling me there was an article in the Post about my wife?”

With a twinkle in her eyes, Lady Carrington called for the butler. “Simms, fetch me the copy of The Morning Post that’s on my desk in the morning room.” Then she turned to Nathan, false concern in her voice. “I had begun to write to my friends and acquaintances, telling them it had been brought to my attention that Miss Burrowes was still being reviled for her past indiscretion with my son and letting them know that there was no truth to that old chestnut whatsoever. That I hadn’t been made aware all those years ago that the rumor had been allowed to continue unchallenged. Of course, I’d been so prostrate with grief at my son’s passing that it was some time before I took notice of anything Society had been doing, Jonathan’s death and the coming of the new Lord Carrington taking all my time and attention.”

The butler entered and handed her a folded newspaper. She paused until the servant had gone then offered him the paper, already folded to the second page. “Then this past Tuesday, I opened the Post to the Fashionable Faux Pas column, as is my wont every day.” She chuckled. “I admit, I do like to keep up with the newest scandal. It is my only entertainment these days.”

Heart sinking to his knees, Nathan snatched the broadsheet from her hand. His vision blurred with fear, he blinked several times as his gaze raced down the column until his eye fell on the words “Miss A. Bur—wes” and his heart stopped then commenced to beat like a bat winging its way out of hell. Biting his cheek to ward off the darkness that suddenly invaded his vision, Nathan forced himself to breathe, to calm. Dying of an apoplexy in Lady Carrington’s receiving room would do none of them any good. His heart slowed its frantic beating, and he focused on the words that made his blood run cold.

Mr. L. B—ke was overheard yesterday boasting to Lord F—n that Miss A. Bur—wes, lately betrothed to Lord A—ly, had, when there was an understanding of marriage between him and the lady, agreed and engaged in anticipating not the wedding night, but the betrothal itself. Mr. B—ke assured Lord F—n that although he was usually the soul of discretion, it should be noted that the rumors about the lady’s previous anticipation were sadly true.

The vile words now seared into his brain, Nathan looked up to find Lady Carrington gazing at him expectantly, a slight smile on her lips. “So you see, my lord, when I read that, I concluded that I need not continue to attempt the repair of Miss Burrowes’s reputation. Had I done so, I’d have been deemed a laughingstock.”

Crushing the paper in a violent grip, Nathan leveled a gaze at the woman so terrifying the smile wiped itself from her lips and she took several steps backward, glancing at the door as though she might actually flee. “Burke will answer for these lies, my lady. Mark my words carefully.” He stalked toward her, forcing her to retreat until she pressed herself against the wall. “I alone am in possession of the truth of the matter, and I will attest and affirm to you and to any who choose to slander my wife that she was an innocent until after she spoke her wedding vows to me.”

The defiance in Lady Carrington’s wide eyes dimmed at his declaration, and he halted, although he truly wished to throttle the harpy. Best save his murderous outrage for the one who so richly deserved it. He backed away, and the lady breathed easier, although she still glanced toward the doorway. “Continue your efforts, my lady.”

“I beg your pardon?” She jerked her head back to him.

“Continue your efforts to exonerate my wife. That scandal has nothing to do with the current one, which I will deal with myself, as you will see.” He leaned forward, and she cringed back against the wall. “My promise to you still stands. If you do not do your utmost to bring the truth to light about your son and my wife, I will bring Mary Adams to London to do it for you.”

To his surprise, the woman nodded silently, and Nathan turned for the door.

“What will you do now, my lord?” she called to him.

“The only thing I can do, madam.” Nathan swung around to meet her with a piercing gaze. “Go find my second.”

****

“Can I do nothing to dissuade you from this course of action, Nathan?” Marcus handed him a stiff cognac even though it was scarcely noon. Still, he welcomed the brandy, the fiery spirits burning their way into his stomach and settling it. Upon his arrival, mad as hell and likely looking like a lunatic, Marcus had brought him directly to his study for the express purpose of giving him a drink and keeping him from frightening the servants.

“Nothing whatsoever,” Nathan almost barked out the words. “Had someone written such filth about your wife, wouldn’t you call them out?” He glared at his friend. “If not, I would certainly do so and then, if I survived the first duel, issue a challenge to you for not defending my sister’s honor.”

“Peace, Nathan.” Marcus held up a hand in submission. “I agree, in such circumstances I would be out for blood just as much as you are now.” He shook his head, his countenance grave. “I simply do not wish to see you killed, either by the duel itself or by charges if it should come to the ears of the magistrate.”

“I hope it would be the latter, as the law, while explicitly forbidding dueling, does take into consideration the circumstances if it is a point of honor.” Nathan shook the Post, which he’d taken from Lady Carrington’s house quite by accident, in Marcus’s face, then slammed it onto his friend’s desk. “No magistrate nor any jury of my peers could read that unmitigated slander and not agree this is a point of honor.” Outrage still coursing through him, Nathan paced the room, needing some outlet for his anger.

“Of course not. However, there can be miscarriages of justice in some of these cases. That of Major Campbell in Ireland comes most readily to mind.” Sipping his brandy, Marcus quietly watched him. “Do you recall it?”