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Authors: Theresa Romain

BOOK: Season for Temptation
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Chapter 28
In Which Her Ladyship Finds Out
By pleading a sick headache, Julia managed to keep to her bedchamber for the remainder of the day. She couldn't face her relatives until she had figured out what to do. Whatever that might be.
It wasn't that she thought she had done wrong, precisely, and it certainly wasn't that she regretted being with James. But she knew Louisa would be crushed if the truth were known, and her aunt would be disappointed, and
that—
the embarrassment and sorrow brought to two people who had given her so much—was what she couldn't figure out how to avoid, though she would have given the world to do so.
She knew that word would get around, and she was only postponing the inevitable. She remembered James's cautionary words from the Twelfth Night masquerade: If anyone caused a scandal at that event, Xavier would spread it all over town. Now she feared the truth of those words. What on earth had James said to Xavier after she'd left? What would Xavier do?
As it turned out, the storm, when it came, was even worse than she had imagined.
She knew she was in for a reckoning when Simone came to summon her to her aunt's presence the following morning. The maid's customarily serene countenance was worried, and Julia felt a sense of foreboding that was justified as soon as she stepped into her aunt's bedchamber. Lady Irving was still in the bed, an untouched cup and pot of chocolate on a tray in front of her, a copy of the
Ton Bon-bons
scandal sheet in her hands. Her stare, when Julia dared meet her eyes, was nothing less than livid.
“Do you know what I had awaiting me with my morning chocolate today?” she barked, shooing Simone out of the room with a sharp gesture.
“No,” Julia replied warily, drawing a chair up to her aunt's bed and seating herself. She didn't trust her trembling legs to hold her up. Good Lord, how bad must it be?
“This.”
Lady Irving slapped Julia on the head with her rolled-up newspaper.
“Stupid girl,” she said, her voice like ice. “Stupid, stupid, girl. Most of the
ton
hops from bed to bed, but
no one speaks about it
. No one looks, no one asks, no one tells. And now you go and throw this type of behavior in everyone's face. I've obviously taught you nothing.”
She thrust the paper at Julia in disgust, averting her eyes as if she couldn't bear to look at either the newspaper or the girl at her side.
“Read the column of
crim cons
. The first item, naturally.” Her voice was thick with scorn, laying heavy stress on the last word.
Julia's eyes blurred with anxiety, but she forced herself to focus, drawing a deep breath and finding the item in question on the periodical's front page.
The peace of Lady I—'s household must certainly be disturbed this morning, as it has come to the attention of the editor that young Viscount M—, recently engaged, was encountered in a state of déshabille with the lovely Miss H——. One wonders if this has any bearing on the contemporaneous end of the viscount's engagement to the Honorable Miss O—, sister by marriage of the young lady (?) in question.
It was bad. Very bad. As bad as she had feared, and then some.
Julia gulped. “They could be referring to anyone,” she said lamely.
“Don't be an idiot,” Lady Irving replied witheringly. “I know exactly who they mean, as does everyone in London. So what I want to know is, what did you do, and how did you get caught?”
Julia raised her eyes to meet her aunt's. “It's not as bad as they made it sound.”
“It usually isn't, but that doesn't matter since this is the account people will read and believe. I repeat, what did you do?”
Julia had never truly been afraid of her aunt before, but the anger in the older woman's eyes made her feel like cowering in a corner. Or better yet, running back to Stonemeadows Hall, and never even thinking of London again.
She forced herself to straighten her back and maintain eye contact with her aunt. “Yesterday morning, Louisa let me know that she wished to break her engagement with James. She asked for my help.”
“Whaaaaaat?” Lady Irving's eyes fairly goggled out of her head.
Gaining a small amount of courage from her aunt's surprise, she continued. “Yes, she let me know that she's been very unhappy, and she wished to end her engagement. She had written a letter to James explaining everything, and she asked me to deliver it since she knows James and I are friends.”
Her face grew hot with self-conscious shame, and her voice quavered on the last word. Lady Irving was still gaping at her, so she plunged on despite her burning face.
“I decided instead to send it to James by messenger with a covering note, since I thought it would be unwise to go to his home or summon him here. Er . . . so that's the story of the broken engagement.”
Lady Irving shook her head, her eyes turned heavenward. “I can't believe it. I literally cannot believe it. Why did you both put yourselves in my hands and come to London? Wasn't it to trust me to help you get suitably married, or am I losing my mind? Rich, titled, fills out his breeches well. That is all you need. My mind simply cannot comprehend the fact that Louisa would break an
engagement with a viscount
.” Her voice rose to a high, shrill pitch on the final words.
“It's true,” Julia said, relieved to have the focus of her aunt's anger removed from herself. “She was afraid to tell you. Though I certainly can't imagine why.”
Lady Irving darted her a quick, sharp glance from the corner of her eye. “This is no time for jokes, miss. Is that the whole story? This isn't so bad; I think we can fix things with a word or two in the right quarter. I can speak to Lady Matheson, perhaps. This may yet be undone.”
“Well, actually, there's a bit more.” Julia steeled herself. “As you know, Sir Stephen came by yesterday afternoon, and . . . well, he made me an offer.”
“Aha!” Her ladyship barked in triumph. “I thought he might. Better and better. Excellent.”
“I declined his proposal,” Julia admitted. “But he asked if he might still hope, and I couldn't bear to tell him no again, so I let him leave with that understanding, but then I was confused and wanted someone to talk to. So I did go to James's house after all,” she finished miserably.
“What.” It wasn't a question. It was a cold, flat statement of angry disbelief.
“You see, James is my closest friend—besides Louisa, of course,” Julia tried to explain. “And I wanted to talk to him. I . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Speak up, girl,” Lady Irving commanded.
“I love him,” Julia whispered, eyes downcast. “That's why I said no to Sir Stephen.”
She looked up warily, in time to see her aunt throw herself violently back onto the pillows of her bed. The chocolate pot teetered, and Julia hastily removed the tray from Lady Irving's bed lest the hot liquid spill and ruin the bed coverings. Her aunt didn't need anything to make her even angrier this morning.
“This I
really
can't believe,” Lady Irving said with measured calm, lying prone with her hands pressed over her eyes. “You love your sister's affianced husband. Why not? So you turn down a perfectly eligible match. Even better. And she also throws away her chance of a match. Certainly, it all makes perfect sense up to that point. But then
you go to his house
.”
She removed her hands from over her eyes and turned her head to look at Julia. “There you lose me. Because I cannot imagine why you would do such a thing.”
“I wanted to be with him,” Julia answered in a small voice.
“I'm not even going to ask if you mean what I think you mean,” Lady Irving said, her voice sounding defeated. “Judging from your now-understandable reluctance to face us yesterday evening, and the comment in the newspaper about the state of
déshabille
, I assume you mean
exactly
what I think you mean.”
She sighed and raised herself up to a seated position again. Her eyes, when they met Julia's again, were now filled with sorrow rather than anger. She reached out for Julia's face. Julia flinched, expecting another swat, but Lady Irving only grazed her cheek gently with her fingertips as if memorizing her features.
“Foolish girl,” she said, her voice choked. “Foolish, foolish Julia. I'm very sorry for you.”
She sighed again. “I can't blame you too much; probably not as much as I should. We all love. We're all human. Those among us who are luckiest love their spouses; others find love elsewhere.”
Her eyes watered with emotion, and she dashed an impatient hand across them. When she moved her hands, she looked older and very tired, and Julia realized that her aunt was speaking from her own decades of experience.
Her voice choked, her gaze unfocused, the countess explained, “Did you think I loved Irving? Of course I didn't. He was much older, and he wasn't handsome, and he couldn't dance or speak prettily, which was what I cared for as a girl. But my mother reminded me that, as the daughter of a mere baron, I could do much worse than wind up a countess. And thus the Honorable Estella caught herself an earl, by sitting attentively next to him when he talked about his cursed hunting dogs and horses, by allowing him to kiss her with his loose mouth, and by agreeing with everything he asked of her.”
She looked Julia pointedly in the eye. “Everything.”
As Julia stared at her aunt in amazement, the countess continued in a stronger voice, “Being his wife was the price I paid for being a countess, for having a social freedom and financial independence such as I had never known as Miss Oliver. And when I say social freedom, I mean it. I could say what I wanted, be with whom I wanted, go where I wished. I wouldn't trade that for anything.” Her mouth quirked wickedly. “Especially since an apoplexy carried him off only five years after our marriage.
“Still,” Lady Irving returned to the subject at hand, “the
ton
follows a set of unyielding rules by which we must abide. I followed them until I was wed; you haven't. It may be unfair, but there is an unbreakable rule that a young woman, unlike a young man, must engage in no scandalous behavior before her marriage. Nothing that smacks of impropriety, or of being too fast. And certainly no carnal acts.”
She stifled the beginnings of Julia's protest with a raised hand and a shake of her head.
“No, you
must
listen to me. What you have done is not quite so wrong as the paper made it seem, since there was no infidelity involved. Still, I am afraid there will be no recovering from this. I must take both of you back to the country at once. In time, Louisa may overcome the scandal, though I am afraid it will be at your expense. All the world currently believes the engagement was broken as a result of your behavior.”
The countess mused for a moment. “If you are willing, we will allow that impression to stand. I believe you owe it to your sister to give her whatever help you can at this time.”
“Of course,” Julia agreed eagerly. Her sense of chagrin, of having wronged her sister, was so great that no atonement seemed too great. Louisa
should
recover. She
should
have another chance for happiness.
Lady Irving nodded her approval, and continued. “Very well. As for you, I am afraid your social life is over. You will never be able to come back to London. Possibly you will never be able to marry at all.”
These words fell onto Julia's ears with the heaviness of stones. Dumbly, she nodded her understanding.
“Unless . . .” Lady Irving was struck by an idea. “If Matheson will marry you, all will eventually be forgiven. There will be a scandalous amount of talk at first, but soon enough it will be replaced by the next
on dit
.”
“He did offer for me,” Julia replied, feeling a spark of hope. “I left him with the understanding that I intended to accept.”
At her aunt's skeptical expression, she explained, “I was . . . um, a bit overset by the events of the day. But I am sure he has the impression that I would
like
to marry him. I believe I was clear enough about that.”
“Then we must confirm that impression,” Lady Irving said with decision. “The sooner the better. If a notice of your engagement can be placed in tomorrow's
Post
, we'll be well on our way to dealing with this unfortunate situation.”
She paused, then continued in carefully measured tones, “Of course, if we can't achieve that, we will need to leave town. I hope you understand.”
Julia nodded. James would agree, happily. He'd said so himself. “Yes, but I am sure there will be no problem.”
Lady Irving motioned for Julia to bring her lap desk and drew out paper and pen. “For all our sakes, I hope not. Would you like to write the note, or shall I?”

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