“Why?” she repeated.
The maid chewed her lip.
“You deserve to know,” she said reluctantly. “You see, he has terrible scarring on the right side of his face. The servants claimed that he was beaten nearly to death over some gambling debts, although his family claimed it was a tragic accident. And he seems to have become every bit as beastly a man as he appears on the outside. If servants ever looked him in the eyes, he would become volatile and enraged. He fired so many servants that it’s a wonder he has any at all now.”
Martha listened with horror. She knew about the scarring, as her father had already told her. But she didn’t know that the viscount was such a cruel man.
“Is that why your cousin was terminated?” she asked.
Lily shook her head.
“No,” she said. “A new housekeeper was fired for that reason. She had only been there two days, according to my cousin, and she didn’t yet know better. We’re all taught to make eye contact when addressing our employers, as it’s just the polite and professional thing to do. But my cousin said he became so vile that not only did the maid leave hysterical, but she left all her belongings behind. My cousin went to defend the poor girl, and that was what got her fired.”
Martha shook her head slowly. If she were listening to ladies of the ton dishing such gossip, she would have promptly ignored them. They were well known for embellishing and creating information for the sake of popular rumors. But what she was hearing then came almost straight from people who had worked for her future husband. While servants were also known for their gossip, as she and Lily had just discussed, they were more apt to tell the truth when it came to mutual or potential employers. Especially amongst other servants.
“That is horrible,” she said softly, feeling like the wind was being squeezed from the room. She had been willing to overlook the scarring on her future betrothed’s face. She wasn’t a shallow woman, and she saw beauty where most other people could not. But there was nothing beautiful about a man who could treat other people so horribly, even if those people were servants. How could she ever marry such a man?
“I’m sorry to have to give you such news,” Lily said, looking at Martha sadly. “I had hoped that my knowledge would help you feel better about your impending marriage, not worse. Please, forgive me, Miss Elwood.”
Martha gave her the best reassuring smile, even though she felt the exact opposite of comforted herself.
“It is not your fault, darling,” she said, patting the maid on the back. “I am grateful that you told me. At least, now I will know exactly what I’m getting into.”And exactly how miserable I will be for the rest of my life.
Lily gave Martha a warm smile.
“I will always do my best to look out for you, Miss Elwood,” she said. “Come, now. Are you ready to dress for dinner?”
Martha shook her head and sighed.
“Not at all,” she said. “But I know that I must.”
Lily nodded, giving her a sympathetic look as she led her mistress to her dressing partition.
“Let’s make you beautiful,” she said. “Perhaps, that will help you feel a little bit better.”
An hour and a half later, Martha joined her parents and Isabel in the drawing room. Isabel, as always, rushed over to her, gushing about how beautiful she was. Her mother joined the women, pulling her daughter into her arms and beaming at her.
“That colour is just perfect for you, dear,” she said.
Martha nodded.
“Lily thought so, too,” she said, not mentioning how she would have come out in something akin to a potato sack, if she had been forced to choose her own dress for the occasion. She was nervous and miserable, and she was already anxious for the night to end. And as they waited for their guests to arrive, the viscount sat beside his wife, smiling proudly. Martha had to look away from her father. Why was he doing this to her? And how could he seem so proud of doing something that was making her so unhappy?
Chapter Six
Albert kept his gaze planted firmly out the carriage window as it carried him and his parents to the Elwood’s townhouse. His parents made conversation with small talk, but Albert would not contribute. He didn’t feel like making any conversation, let alone that involving nonsensical pleasantries. If the intent was to try to make him feel more social, it was a wasted effort. He only felt less sociable as the coach moved closer to the townhouse.
“Darling, you look very dashing this evening,” the countess said, offering her son a timid smile.
Albert glanced at her briefly and nodded, but he still didn’t speak a word. He knew it wasn’t his mother’s fault that his father had arranged a marriage for him. However, he also knew that there was little she would do to contradict her husband, even for the sake of her son. In truth, there was likely little she could do. No high society lady ever stood against her husband. Albert understood that. But he also understood that there was probably some part of his mother that believed the arranged marriage was good for him. That was the part of him that was unhappy with her.
His father mumbled something under his breath, and Albert didn’t know if it was meant for his mother, or as a passive-aggressive way to get Albert’s attention. Either way, Albert continued ignoring the earl. He might have to attend the dinner, and he might end up forced into marrying this stranger of a woman. But he would not be forced to be happy about it. Nor would he be forced to pretend to be.
“I understand that Lady Elwood is a wonderful hostess,” his mother said. Now, Albert thought she was trying to engage his father in conversation again and get him to stop focusing on their son. Albert personally didn’t care how wonderful a hostess Lady Elwood was. He would be polite and civil. But he also intended to get through the evening just as he was right then: saying as little as possible, and getting it done as quickly as he could manage.
Suddenly the carriage came to a halt outside the townhouse. Albert waited for his parents to exit the carriage. His father helped his mother out, then stood back to wait for Albert. Albert took his time stepping down, purposely avoiding eye contact with his father. He didn’t manage to take a step away from the coach, however, before his father grabbed his arm.
“Albert,” his father said. His voice was low and soft, but stern and determined, as well. “I expect you to at least try to be pleasant this evening. First impressions are everything, and you will only get one.”
