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Authors: Tamara Lejeune

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"Force!" cried Lady Elkins. "What do you mean? His
lordship is not a child. He must know there are consequences to such reckless behavior as kissing Miss
Wayborn in a public house. And you say he did not
dishonor you! He would not dare resent you for insisting on a marriage."

"You do not know him, Lady Elkins!" protested
Cynthia. "I should be afraid for Juliet if she married
him. He is so evil-tempered. If he felt himself illused, he would certainly take his revenge on my
cousin. And the Aucklands are so rich and high,
what could we do to stop him?"

"I am not afraid of Swale," scoffed Juliet. "His
temper is not at issue. Rather, I should never marry
a man who does not at least wish to marry me! It is a
little requirement of mine that must be satisfied
before I will even consider whether or not Iwish to
marry him. Swale doesn't love me, Aunt Elinor. He
told me himself he is fixed on quite another lady."

"For myself," Lady Elkins declared, "I consider
myself married to any man seen kissing me in a public
house! Let him try to escape!"

In vain, Cynthia tried to stop her giggles by biting
her knuckles. It was no use. The image of Lady Elkins
being kissed by the pot-boy at a village inn was too
much for her.

Juliet began to laugh too. "Take care, my dear
aunt! If this fact is made known to the general population, you will find yourself in constant danger of
being kissed. Wealthy widows are always attractive to
young men who have only their handsome faces to recommend them. How would you like a vigorous
young man for a husband?"

Lady Elkins gathered her dignity and threatened
to quit the room.

"I mean no disrespect, Aunt Elinor," Juliet said
contritely, "but my views on marriage are nothing
like yours. Let us avoid the subject. Tell me, what
changes do you suppose Lord Redfylde will make
to Silvercombe?"

This was the one subject that could divert Lady
Elkins from scolding her niece. Lord and Lady Redfylde had hired Silvercombe, the nearby country
estate of Lord Skeldings, who had taken up permanent residence in Bath. My lord and lady were to
remain in the neighborhood for the period of her ladyship's confinement. Lord Redfylde was not often
under the roof, however, and it was well-known that,
due to her condition, Lady Redfylde was not receiving visitors, so Lady Elkins was obliged to rely upon
servants' gossip for all the Silvercombe news.

Juliet had already quizzed Sir Benedict about Lord
Redfylde's sudden appearance in the neighborhood,
running to his study the moment she had heard that
Redfylde had hired the house, demanding, "And
what are you going to do about it?"

Benedict had given her a measured look and dismissed his estate agent from the room. "What am I
going to do about what?"

"It, " she clarified. "Lord Redfylde. Are you going
to call on him? Have you-have you already called
on him?"

"Certainly I have," Sir Benedict replied. "Some
time ago, I recommended Lord Redfylde to Lord
Skeldings. On my recommendation, he has taken
the house."

"Some time ago? Before the race, you mean? I did
not know you were so well acquainted with Lord
Redfylde. "

"I am not," he told her. "But when I heard his lordship was seeking a place near London where his wife
might be comfortable without being deprived too
much of her husband's company, I spoke to him on
Lord Skeldings's behalf. You know Bertram needs the
money, and it is better for the neighborhood if Silvercombe does not stand empty all the time."

"Redfylde! Better for the neighborhood?" Juliet
scoffed.

"Yes, Juliet. And better for our friend Lord Skeldings. At the time, I had no reason to question his lordship's character."

"But you must have some plan to expose Lord
Redfylde now that he is here," she said impatiently.
"Have you questioned him yet? How does his lordship
explain betting monstrous sums on Lord Swale?"

Benedict held up his hand as he completed figuring a column of sums. "I am no magistrate, you know,
to be questioning my neighbors."

Disgusted by his unruffled calm, Juliet kicked the
carpet with her toe. "I might have known you wouldn't
think it proper! If I were a man, I'd walk right up to
him and demand answers."

"That would be the height of impropriety. It won't
do, Juliet, to accuse a Peer of the Realm." He gave in
to her curiosity reluctantly. "I called on him, and I can
tell you, if Lord Redfylde was involved in the attack
on our brother, he feels absolutely no remorse. He is
quite the most disdainful man I ever met. He did not
so much as inquire after Cary's health."

"But what are you going to do?" she cried, stamping her foot in frustration.

"The Bow Street Runners are at their inquiries in
London," he told her. "Cary and Mr. Calverstock
were able to give a good description of the attackers.
If the miscreants are found, they can be made to
give evidence. If they were hired and if they can identify Lord Redfylde as their employer, then his lordship
may be questioned by the proper authorities. Does
that satisfy you?"

"No!" she responded. "Let his lordship prove his innocence if he can."

"My dear Juliet, he is innocent until proven otherwise."

His sister did not appear to agree with this cornerstone of English jurisprudence. "I would like to
hang him up by his thumbs until he talks!"

"Have you learned nothing?" he rebuked her. "It
was not so very long ago you accused Lord Swalefalsely as it turns out. Now you propose I cast suspicion over Lord Redfylde."

"All the more reason to question him," she said. 'We
must at least try to shift the blame to where it belongs.
What if the Runners cannot find Gary's attackers?
Cary will recover, I daresay, but Swale will always be
under a cloud." She twisted her hands together in embarrassment. "You must do something, Benedict, because, you know, it was my fault. If I had not raced with
him to Southend and accused him so publicly ... if
I had gone to you instead ... you would have handled
it quietly."

"My dear," he said gently, "the Runners will find
them. Do not concern yourself about Swale so muchunfortunately, there will always be a place in Society
for the Duke of Auckland's heir."

She went away far from comforted. More than
ever, she felt herself to be in Swale's debt. During her recovery in Hertfordshire, he had come to the Vicarage every day to inquire after her progress. Despite
Benedict's constant rebuffs, Swale came anyway every
morning and every evening without fail. Certainly,
he had no real wish to see her, and it must have
been humiliating for him to be turned away day
after day, but still he came. She would not have
blamed him if he had left Herts and returned to
London and Serena Calverstock. But he had remained until the very morning of her own departure.

He would have married her, she knew, out of a sense
of obligation because despite all his bluster and soup
slurping, he really was an honorable man. As Lady
Swale, she would have passed instantly from disgrace
to the very highest circles of the Ton. But what a depressing way to catch a husband! And a husband
who loved Serena Calverstock would be a poor prize
indeed, whatever Lady Elkins said about it.

And what her aunt chiefly had to say was this:
"Depend upon it. He will marry as soon as he can and
will forget all about you. Men never like to have their
generosity thrown in their faces. And when he is married and his wife is decked in diamonds from head to
toe, don't think you can cry on my shoulder! When
you are an old spinster, you will weep tears of bitter
regret, for who will marry you now?"

For weeks, Juliet was forced to listen as her aunt condemned her to a life of no children, no home of her
own, and no place in Society. Much to Lady Elkins's
surprise, her threats and sermons only served to
make Juliet's views on the subject grow stronger. That
she should marry as the means of conceiving a child,
or for architecture, or for the right to be gossiped
about by people she neither liked nor respected-all
were equally unthinkable. "I should only want to bear children if I loved the man," she declared. "And
I should only wish to share my home if I loved the
man. And I should consider my place in Society a
sham if I did not love the man. I would not deserve
the honor of his name if I didn't love him."

"I confess I feel the same," said Cynthia.

Lady Elkins eyed them with contempt. "You modern
girls!" she said scathingly. "You want too much. The
moon and the stars are nothing to you. Not only
must your husbands love you, which was considered
more than sufficient in my day, but you must love
your husbands too! If that is your course, you will see
many inferior girls find husbands and happiness
while you advance into spinsterhood. I am speaking
mainly to you, Miss Cary, for it goes without saying that
Juliet will never again receive an offer of marriage."

"If only that were true, Aunt," Juliet said wryly.

"What?" cried the lady, clutching her heart. `Juliet,
you sly thing! Have you received an offer of marriage?"

"No, indeed," Juliet laughed. "How could it be so
when your ladyship has declared it impossible! I only
wish, as you claim, that it went without saying."

"Cruel, wicked, abominable girl!" replied her aunt,
falling back into her chair. "To raise my hopes and
then dash them so cruelly. I have a mind to leave all
my money to my nephew instead of to you, ungrateful, selfish Juliet. I'm glad you'll never be a
marchioness-I am sure you don't deserve it!"

In the first week of April, Lady Serena Calverstock
accompanied her sister to Silvercombe. It was she, and
not Lady Redfylde, who took over the duties of mistress of Silvercombe. The neighborhood buzzed with
excitement, for she had brought with her a small party of fashionable London friends, including a
Colonel Fitzwilliam and his wife.

Sir Benedict Wayborn called upon Colonel Fitzwilliam as courtesy demanded and reported him to be
an amiable gentleman. "And do you know who his
wife is?" he asked his sister upon returning to the Hall.
"She is the Duke of Auckland's daughter, and a very
proud, disagreeable woman besides."

"Swale's sister?" Juliet guessed that an association
with Swale's sister would bring Serena that much
closer to the splendid marriage she had been waiting
for. "Is ... is his lordship a member of the party?" she
asked, forcing her voice to remain neutral.

"Lord Redfylde was not at home when I called," her
brother replied.

"Not Redfylde-Swale! Has he come with his sister?"

"No, thank heavens. We saw quite enough of Lord
Swale in Herts, I think. I daresay we will not be
obliged to see very much of the Silvercombe set
either. The ladies are occupied in amusing Lady Redfylde, and the gentlemen mean to have some sport.
I have given them leave to fish in my lake, so do not
be alarmed if you see strangers there."

Juliet scarcely heard him, for her mind was so
busily considering what it meant that Serena was a particular friend of Lady Maria Fitzwilliam, Swale's sister.
Her ladyship was certain to promote the match between her friend and her brother. Or, was the match
already made? Every day, she searched the newspapers
for any information, but there was no sign of an engagement notice in the papers.

Aloud, she expressed only some mild curiosity to
know Lady Maria. Lady Elkins, on the other hand,
could scarcely be restrained from calling upon the Silvercombe ladies until the respectable hour of eleven was reached the next morning. In her view, it was
imperative that the ladies of Wayborn Hall be the first
to call upon the newcomers, even before the Parson's
wife and daughters.

Cynthia was nervous. At home in Hertfordshire,
there was no one more awesome for her to call upon
than Squire Mickleby's wife, and that lady was as big
and comfortable and well-meaning as her own
mother. Juliet's description of Lady Serena scarcely
comforted her nerves. "She is extremely haughty,
but so rich and so beautiful, with black hair and the
most exquisite violet eyes, that everyone is obliged to
pretend to like her."

"Only consider what it means, my dear," Lady Elkins
interrupted, "that Lady Maria has come into Surrey
with Serena Calverstock."

"Pray, what does it mean?" Juliet asked with an
arch smile for Cynthia.

"Lady Maria must be making a match between her
brother and Lady Serena," Lady Elkins declared,
startling her niece with her perspicacity. "Why else
would she so distinguish an unmarried lady? The
marquisate is lost to you forever, you stupid girl, and
the duchy too. If Serena has not already made him
very much in love with her, she is certain to do so. Oh,
was there ever anything more vexing! When I think
that you had him in your grasp and let him go-!"

Juliet merely laughed. "Serena and Lord Swale!
Beauty and the Beast! I wish them happy, I am sure.
He will acquire her beauty, and she will acquire his
wealth and position. Don't tell me you don't approve, Aunt Elinor. It is precisely that mercenary
kind of marriage that you always recommend so
kindly to me."

Her feelings on the subject, however, were very different. She could not help but doubt the lady who
had until quite recently given the world every reason
to believe her in love with Cary Wayborn, and Juliet's
own dislike of Serena made it impossible for her to believe that Swale truly loved her. He would not be the
first man blinded by Serena's beauty, but what was she
to do? It would be the very height of presumption for
her to interfere in the lives of two relative strangers,
however strongly she felt that their marriage was
wrong.

Silvercombe was obtained after a drive through a
long avenue of lime trees. Lady Elkins was perplexed
when Driscoll, the butler at Silvercombe, walked out
to the barouche and informed her ladyship that the
Silvercombe ladies were not at home. The slight infuriated Juliet, for a slight it undoubtedly was; she had
known Driscoll all her life, since he had always been
Lord Skeldings's butler, and his apologetic air spoke
volumes. Lady Serena and her dear friend Lady Maria
were certainly at home, but they were not at home to
Miss Juliet Wayborn. Her disgrace had followed her
into Surrey.

BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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