Page 19 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
Mother shook her head with an indulgent smile. “Griswold, the last time you went hunting was when Violet was still in knee-length skirts.”
Papa guffawed. “That is not true. The last time I went was with George... When was that?” His gaze drifted to the ceiling of the carriage as if the answer could be found there.
August watched the entire exchange in disbelief and mild irritation. Sometimes talking to them when they were together was like wrangling young children. Was she the only one concerned with the potentially disastrous turn this could all take? Violet and her future children could be destitute, and all they cared about was how fashionable boxing was at the moment. “What do boxing or Mr. Van Alen have to do with anything?”
In response to the frustration in her voice, Violet reached over and placed a supportive hand on her arm. Even that annoyed her. How could Violet be so calm when they were discussing her entire future like it was a sport? Why was she the only one in this family who managed to see the destruction that almost assuredly awaited her sister?
Both her parents looked at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. August forced herself to inhale a steadying breath. It wouldn’t do to have them accuse her of hysterics when she was making perfectly rational arguments.
“I only mean to say that boxing is not the sport in question. The Duke of Rothschild is a bare-knuckle prizefighter. He fights for money in Whitechapel. I don’t know how often or to what extent, but he is known as the Hellion, and he associates with questionable characters.”
Papa frowned and was silent as the carriage rocked with the final turn that put them onto their street. “That isn’t therumor I heard. Boxing or bare-knuckle”—he gave a wave of his hand as if the difference were negligible—“he fights at his club. A fair number of young men are taking it up. The other day someone mentioned French footfighting. Have you heard of that? It has another name that escapes me at the moment.”
August stifled a sigh of frustration. “I’ll concede that perhaps some of these events take place at his club. However, he also fights in Whitechapel. These are public fights with dangerous men.” A shiver ran down her spine every time she thought of Wilkes. His eyes had been cold and dead and almost as vicious as those spikes on his shoes.
“How do you know this to be true, August? As your father said, it’s only rumor, and obviously one only you have heard. It cannot be true. He likely only fights at his club as Papa believes. He is a duke.” She said the last as if that were all the reason she needed to disbelieve it.
August knew then that she absolutely had to tell them the complete truth. Bracing herself by gripping the edge of her seat, she said, “I know because I was there at the fight. I don’t want to get into specifics, but I saw him with my own eyes.”
The carriage fell silent as they came to a stop. The groom opened the door, but her father held up a hand, and it discreetly clicked shut again.
“You were at a fight in Whitechapel? When was this, August?” Papa’s voice had taken on the cold tone she had only heard in the most demanding business meetings.
“I cannot say.”
“How do you know it was the duke?” he asked.
“His hair was darker, but it was him. I know it was him.”
“Did he admit this to you?”
“No, of course not.” She hadn’t expected him to admit it, and he hadn’t. However, he hadn’t seemed particularly concerned that she might expose him, which was galling to no end.
Papa let out a long breath. “Then you might have been mistaken.”
Her shoulders stiffened, and she found herself sitting straighter. “I amnotmistaken. It was him.”
“The bigger issue here is that you were in Whitechapel. How did this happen?”
She opened her mouth to explain about Camille, but she no longer trusted her parents to understand. What would stop her father from running off to tell Hereford? She could only imagine the sort of punishment the man might mete out to Camille. When once she had told her father everything, she found herself unwilling to discuss this with him. “I cannot say. I can only tell you that I was there with a friend.”
Her father pursed his lips as he often did when discussing a disagreeable subject and opened the door himself. The groom came forward to hold it as Papa reached back to help Mother disembark. Together they marched up the steps to their rented townhome, leaving the groom to assist her and then Violet. Anxiety knotted August’s belly as she followed them inside.
Papa’s strong steps could be heard ascending the stairs, but their mother stood in the entry of the front parlor, where she was handing off her gloves and hat to a waiting maid. “August, Violet, come and attend me a moment.”
They both followed without pausing to take off their outerwear. Violet kept her composure; the only clue to her anger was the stiffness of her shoulders.
“This will take but a moment. I wanted you both to know that it has been brought to my attention that we are in need of a chaperone.” She raised a hand when August opened her mouth to object. “This is not because of your shocking revelation, though it does prove that there is a need.”
August crossed her arms over her chest and decided not to point out that a chaperone would not have stopped her from sneaking out of the house alone at night.
“Lady Ashcroft has been such a dear in helping us acclimate here. She helpfully suggested that young ladies of quality do not take walks to the park or the shops withouta chaperone, and your father and I aren’t always available to go with you.”
Now August could not stay silent on the matter. “But that’s ridiculous, Mother. I am twenty-three years old, and I have managed my walks in the park just fine all these years on my own.”
“Of course you have, dear, but we are in London now. They do things differently here. When in Rome, as they say.”
At home she had frequently dashed out to the dressmaker’s or milliner’s without anyone accompanying her. August could not help but feel that London was quickly becoming nothing but a great gilded cage from which she couldn’t escape. Would they actively try to pawn her off on a husband as well?
