Page 31 of An Innocent Bride for the Duke

“I must confess that I kissed Benedict too, Aunt Beatrice,” Louisa had admitted, her innate fairness not allowing the blame to be laid solely at his door. “I do not know why, but I did. I never had any intention to do such a thing, but then it…just happened.”

Lady Esher’s face grew sorrowful but no more yielding on hearing this. She did not miss Louisa’s use of the duke’s christian name.

“Benedict indeed!? It seems some of the fault is mine, Louisa. Your person and your nature are both attractive, and it was obvious to me that the duke noticed you. I tried to warn you both away from any intimacy but perhaps I did not try hard enough. You are not…his type. I believed he would keep any interest in check.”

“But why did I kiss him?” wondered Louisa aloud, as distressed by this fact as by any other. “Why did I not run away when he first kissed me? I know I should have done.”

The memory of the duke’s arm around her waist and his lips upon hers thrilled Louisa still, in spite of everything. The sensations he provoked in her body simply through his proximity were powerful enough to sweep all good sense and normal behavior aside. It was alarming to be rendered so helpless.

On this one score, Lady Esher tried to offer some solace, although her attempt only created fresh anxieties for her niece.

“The Duke of Northwick is a handsome man, is he not? He has many virtues too, regardless of his…flaws. I doubt there are many women who would not return his kisses, Louisa. In fact, I know it.”

“What do you know, Aunt Beatrice? Are you telling me that Bene..the duke, I mean, has compromised other young ladies?”

Lady Esher’s expression grew conflicted as she considered this question, Louisa’s mind filling with images of the duke embracing a succession of other women, and her eyes filling with tears in tandem.

“Yes…no…It is complicated, Louisa. As I said, you are not his usual type and I thought you safe. I cannot believe him so ill-intended as to have planned this, but some temptations are too great for any man. Oh, I should have seen the danger more clearly and kept you by me, but it is all too late now!”

All too late… These words echoed in Louisa’s head through the long hours of darkness. Too late to return to her old life, too late for all her dreams, and too late for love itself…

Chapter Thirteen

“Good morning, Aunt Beatrice,” Louisa said quietly as she entered the breakfast room at eight o’clock the following morning and finding Lady Esher the only person at the table. “Gertie said that you sent instructions that the children should breakfast upstairs today.”

“Yes, I did,” her aunt confirmed, looking up from the table with tired eyes and a compassionate smile. “There is much to talk of this morning. Thompson went upstairs to His Grace half an hour ago and I expect we shall have him here shortly.”

Nodding although uneasy, Louisa sat down to wait. Was it her imagination or was the usually discreet footman who brought in the coffee pot staring at her? Through the open door into the hallway, Louisa could certainly see two maidservants whispering together as they peeped into the room. The gossip had started, she supposed miserably.

“Drink your coffee, dear,” Aunt Beatrice advised her softly, buttering a piece of toast as she spoke and then laying it on Louisa’s plate. “You might not feel like it, but some food and drink will fortify you.”

Louisa tried to obey and managed to take a few mouthfuls of coffee, but the toast was presently beyond her. Her stomach felt too unsettled and her throat too tight to swallow. She both longed for and dreaded the arrival of the Duke of Northwick. When the breakfast room door opened again a few minutes later, she almost dropped her coffee cup in nervousness.

It was, however, only Harper, the butler.

"Lady Huxley is here, Your Ladyship,” he informed Lady Esher and Louisa saw her aunt frown deeply.

“At this hour?” exclaimed Aunt Beatrice with real displeasure, speaking loudly enough that Louisa feared her voice might be heard by the guest presumably in the hallway. “It is far too early for social calls.”

“You could say it was not convenient and send her away,” Louisa suggested. “That would be true enough.”

“True enough, but not wise, Louisa,” advised her aunt, lowering her voice now, for Louisa’s ears only. “If Lady Huxley is here now, I suspect she has already heard…something of our crisis here. If I send her away, it might only fuel the worst of her imagination.”

“You think she knows already?” Louisa burst out in horror, her cheeks instantly flaming. “Oh, my! Elsie’s sister is Lady Huxley’s housekeeper, isn’t she?”

“Hush, dear. The servants in the neighborhood have been up and about and running errands for several hours. Likely they all know by now.”

Raising her voice again, she instructed Harper to bring their caller into the breakfast room.

“Can I go upstairs Aunt Beatrice?” pleaded Louisa. “I cannot face Lady Huxley or anyone else, not yet.”

“You must, Louisa,” her aunt told her seriously. “I would shield you if I could but you will have to face all our neighbors eventually. In particular, you will not be able to avoid Lady Huxley. She is the Earl of Ashbourne’s cousin, after all.”

“Is that important?” Louisa asked, not seeing the significance of their neighbor’s relationship with Edmund Weavington, Lord Ashbourne, in this matter.

Her aunt sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Perhaps it matters less than it once did…” she told Louisa somewhat laconically, "but still it would be best if you stayed with me for this call. Now, sit up straight, smooth your skirts, and whatever happens, keep your composure.”