Page 41 of Daring the Forbidden Earl
But if it was not Mark, then who was it? Who is the true culprit?
It had shocked Johanna somewhat, to hear about those four other women whom Mark had pretended not to have known intimately. She did not care for that kind of behavior, but if someone was perpetually judged for their past mistakes, how could they ever hope to change? For that reason, she had decided to be forgiving, and remain optimistic that he was becoming a better man.
“This way, uh… I apologize, I didn’t get your name.” The housekeeper led Johanna into a small drawing room, which was as lavishly decorated as the reception hall.
“I am…” Johanna’s mind went into a panic. She could not say she was Mrs. Carlton, as the household surely knew that it was also Mark’s surname. “I am Lady Clevedon,” she said, using her maiden name and praying the housekeeper would not know any better.
The housekeeper curtseyed, apparently satisfied. “I’ll fetch Miss Steele in for you now then, M’Lady, and bring that tea in an’ all.”
Johanna settled down on a dark red chaise-longue, and shifted awkwardly, unable to find a comfortable position. Her gaze rested on the bookshelves at the far side of the drawing room, which were filled with sleek, leatherbound tomes that did not look as though they had ever been read.
Remember why you are doing this.
In a way, it seemed peculiar that she was going out of her way to aid Mark when, not so long ago, they would have done anything to get the last, barbed word in their savage arguments.
How quickly things can change, once misunderstandings have been unraveled.
There was still one thing she wanted to know, that played constantly upon her mind. What other reasons did Mark have, to have loathed his uncle so much? It was not merely because Johanna had married him, she was certain of that, but while she had divulged everything about her past, she felt as though she had only scraped the surface of Mark’s.
“Maybe he will tell me later,” she murmured, as the drawing room door opened.
A young lady entered, with golden brown hair fashioned in a plaited bun, and two curled strands framing a sweet, pretty face. She had flushed cheeks and a smattering of freckles, and a pair of anxious blue eyes that seemed to widen in confusion as they rested upon Johanna.
“Miss Steele, I presume?” Johanna said.
The young lady nodded. “Uh… yes, Lady… um… Clevedon.” She paused halfway between the door and the chaise, as though contemplating whether or not to flee. “I apologize, My Lady, but… are we acquainted?”
“I am dear friends with the Countess of Keswick.” Johanna gestured to the chaise opposite, hoping that the weight of Nora’s power would work a second time.
Instead, it only seemed to scare Miss Steele more.
“The… C-Countess?”
Johanna realized she had to do something to comfort the girl, or Miss Steele might actually run. “Please, come and sit down. You have nothing to fear from me. I am only here to speak with you, as one woman to another.” She paused. “You see, I have been in your situation, and I would like to offer you any wisdom that I can, so you do not repeat the mistakes that I made.”
Her insides clenched, for she knew she was taking an enormous risk by admitting that. She realized she was getting used to pushing away the fear of seeing her name in the scandal sheets.
Miss Steele glanced over her shoulder at the drawing room door. For a moment, she did nothing but stand there, as if weighing up her options. In the end, however, she went to the door and closed it tightly in the jamb, before heading for the chaise opposite Johanna.
“Does the Countess of Keswick know what I have done?” Miss Steele began in a quiet, trembling voice. “I know she is powerful. Have you come to deliver a threat? Is she planning to expose the truth?”
Johanna sat back, puzzled. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I have heard that she knows everything in this city. If you are friends with her, then you must also be acquainted with…him. The Countess has discovered the truth, has she not? Is she going to write about me in the scandal sheets?” Miss Steele shook violently upon the edge of the chaise.
Johanna frowned. “Why would she do that?”
“I did not mean for this to happen, My Lady,” Miss Steele rasped, as tears welled in her eyes. “I did not mean to tell my papa that it was Lord Sinclair. Please, you must allow me to write a note to the Countess, begging forgiveness.”
“Wasit Lord Sinclair?” Johanna played into her narrative, trying to figure out what truth there might be to expose.
Miss Steele shook her head slowly. “It was a… mistake. His name slipped out and I could not take it back.” She dipped her chin to her chest and began to sob.
“Why would your father believe you?” Johanna pressed.
“Papa saw me at the Countess’s ball. I had disappeared from the ballroom, and he came looking for me. He found me in the downstairs study… entangled with… a gentleman. Said gentleman fled out of the door at the back of the study, so my papa did not see the fellow,” Miss Steele replied through choked sobs. “He demanded to know who it was, and… Lord Sinclair was the only name I could think of. In truth, he and I do not even know one another.”
A rush of victory coursed through Johanna’s veins, not only because she now knew, for absolute certainty, that Mark had not been lying, but because she now had the ability to stop Lord Dresday’s threats. Then again, that would rely on Miss Steele cooperating, and Johanna was not yet sure if the young woman would have the strength.
