Page 54 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
Her footsteps whispered along the path, her fingers fiddling idly with the edge of her cloak. She truly didn’t really need it, but in that moment, it felt like a barrier against the outside world. Against the rumors, and against the eyes that slid over her without any discretion at all. She didn’t know how much longer she could endure the gossiping that followed her through every event, ball, dinner party. Worst of all, she didn’t know how much she could handle it affecting Edward and his family.
Lady Elena had confirmed as much.
Did that mean she didn’t have a hand in the rumor mongering, or was she simply playing her part well?
When Rebecca approached a line of cherry blossoms that were blooming, but had not yet bloomed enough to sprinkle over the park’s pathways, she looked around. People milled around, traipsing down different pathways, while other couples promenaded in public, their arms linked. Rebecca’s gaze lingered on them, on the closeness and easy affection.
Edward was her friend, but she could not imagine him being inclined to link her as such when they ventured out for walks. Would they even do things as a married couple beyond the social obligation of balls?
It was as she surveyed the couples and others around her that she saw the familiar blonde hair and eagle-eyed gaze that was already fixed on her. As soon as Rebecca met those eyes, Catherine looked away as if she hadn’t noticed.
Rebecca couldn’t keep putting off this confrontation, and she needed to know for sure if her suspicions were correct. Speeding up, Rebecca approached Catherine. At her side was Mary, who barely even looked at Rebecca. Only a few weeks ago, they had sat in Mary’s music room discussing their plans for theupcoming Season. How had it all fallen apart so quickly? How had this happened? Rebecca’s heart cracked, but in those cracks, anger filled the gaps and urged her closer until she stood directly before her friends, forcing their attention.
“Good afternoon,” she said, only to find herself with her friends’ backs turned on her. She huffed, angry and hurt. “Fine. If that is how you wish for it to be, but I at least deserve the courtesy of you speaking to me, of you explainingwhy, Catherine.”
After a long, punishing silence, Catherine turned to her, her mouth quirking as if angrily amused. “Of course, the courtesy of discussing things. Such a funny thing, is it not? How demanding of you, considering that you did not extend the same grace to me.”
“What?”
Catherine glared at her, and Rebecca felt the weight of it like a hard blow. “Do not play innocent with me. You did not discuss your intention to marry Lord Thornshire, yet you know I liked him.”
Rebecca made an impatient noise. “You did not. You perhaps liked his notoriety, but you do not like him. Not as a woman should with her husband.”
“And do you?” Her friend’s challenge came out, sharp as a whip, and Rebecca found herself stepping back.
“That is none of your business,” she answered, noncommittal. “Yet you have made plenty of things your business, have you not?”
Catherine tipped her head, her pretty hair falling to one side. “I am certain I do not know what you mean.”
Rebecca blew out a hard, annoyed breath. “I am speaking about the rumours you started, Catherine. You cannot pretend as though you did not start them.”
“Oh, but it is not a pretence, for I did not...”
“I heard you speaking about Harry Maudley and me at the Balkans’ ball. I overheard you suggesting that I had an indecent connection with him. That is where the rumour began, no?”
Catherine said nothing, but her mouth pinched, much in the same way that Lady Elena’s had. Rebecca considered, not for the first time, that the two may have been in league with one another. Her gaze went to Mary, her anger flaring.
“And you? Did you play a part in it?” Rebecca demanded.
At least Mary had the decency to look guilty as she let her focus drop from Rebecca. She shuffled. How pretty and innocent they looked in their simple day gowns, how deceivingly friendly, when Rebecca had needed her friends. When sheneeded her friends still.
“I did go along with it,” Mary eventually admitted, much to Catherine’s gasp and betrayed scowl. “But I did not realise how seriously people would take it. I thought it would be harmless fun.”
“Harmless,” Rebecca repeated flatly. “Harmless?”
“Now, Lady Rebecca, you do not want to cause a scene,” Catherine warned, and Rebecca flinched back, both at the warning and her friend’s formality.
Hurt swirled through her heart, bruising it even further. Everything squeezed that tender organ: her friends’ betrayals, Edward’s distance, Lady Elena’s disapproval, and her father’s actions. All of that combined with the rumors so maliciously spread—for yes, she had once liked Harry, as she kept protesting, but it had never been what people said.
“You could have ruined me,” Rebecca whispered to them both, looking between her once-friends. “We used to be friends.”
“Indeed,” Catherine agreed, her voice devoid of anything friendly or nice. It was utterly flat, bitter. “But friends would not have done what you did to me. No, I did not love Lord Thornshire, nor even find him all that handsome. But I saw himfirst, and you knew I wanted to give myself a good chance this Season. You took that from me.”
Rebecca stepped back, shaking her head. “I will not apologise. Not when he is my friend, and you were using him.”
“And what areyoudoing to him?” Catherine snapped. “We both heard you, Mary and I, speak about needing a husband wealthy enough. Youdidlike Harry Maudley, and had to drop his attention in search of a wealthy husband.”
“And I have been honest to Lord Thornshire about what our marriage will be,” Rebecca whispered harshly. “You did not have one honest bone in your body during your dances with him.” She hesitated, shaking her head. “I wish you both all the best for the remainder of your Season.”
