Page 74 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
Thrust over with the force of the collision, Becca tumbled into a puddle on her knees. Her gloved fingers were drenched in seconds, her skirt muddy for the puddle was the color of dirt thanks to the mess that had been left in the roads by the horses.
“Oh, I…” The woman halted as Becca stood, and her words tapered off.
Becca didn’t even bother to shake off the excess water from her hands as she was so drenched. She stood there instead, staring back at the woman who had evidently recognized her.
“I do not believe it,” the woman muttered, a wicked glint appearing in her eye. “Miss Thornton?”
“Lady Heather.” Becca bowed her head, not bothering to curtsy to the fine lady.
With a curl of her top lip, Lady Heather looked over her. She took in the poor clothes, their wet and dirty state, and seemedto spend a long time indeed staring at the tattered bonnet in her grasp.
“I have been asking for weeks now who you are. I have asked everyone I know who knows something of a lady of thetonknown as Miss Thornton, but clearly, I was asking the wrong people.”
Lady Heather made no effort to chase after her friend, who was now sheltering in the carriage from the rain. Instead, she kept staring at Becca, happy to get wet to have this moment of victory. “Look at you. You are no woman of theton.” She stepped forward, even flicking the edge of Becca’s pelisse in disgust.
Becca tore the pelisse out of her grasp.
“Have you been struck dumb as well as poor?” Lady Heather asked, tutting. “Lost the power of your tongue?”
“Leave me be.” Becca tried to walk around her, but Lady Heather stepped in the way, refusing to let her pass.
“You’re no lady of theton.You’re poor. Look at these clothes. That bonnet is so patchworked, it’s a wonder it’s holding together at all in this rain.” Lady Heather shook her head. “Whatever deception you have pulled over Lord Lancaster’s eyes, be assured, it will not last. I’ll be sure to tell him what caliber of woman you truly are.”
He knows!
Becca nearly bellowed these words into Lady Heather’s face, but what good would it have done? No good at all!
“He will not marry beneath him.” Lady Heather lifted her chin high. “I thank you for this meeting, Miss Thornton. You have made me happier than I have been in days.” She laughed and walked around Becca. “Oh, you dropped something in that puddle, by the way. Oops, never mind. It is simply what the horses left behind on a scrap of your gown.”
Becca looked down in horror. A piece of her gown had indeed been torn off in their collision and now hovered in the muddy water, dirtied by the horse manure.
“My friend?” Lady Heather called to the lady in the carriage. “Change of plan. We are going to call on Lord Lancaster at his home. There is something he must know.”
He will not be there.
Becca stayed where she was, staring and watching as Lady Heather climbed into her carriage. The lady bore a triumphant smile as she shut the door, and the carriage pulled away. She pointedly waved at Becca with glee, then the carriage turned,and the large wheels drove through the puddles in the cobbled road.
Becca was already so wet, it shouldn’t have made a difference. The carriage wheel scattered water from the puddle over the skirt of her gown and her shoes. Becca blinked, staring at the mess. Though it made no difference to her gown, it made her feel even worse than before. The view of her dirtied boots blurred as tears filled her eyes.
Slowly, Becca walked on, determined to put this street as far behind her as she possibly could. She kept her head bowed, refusing to look anyone in the eye, even though she passed many people in such a state, sodden to the bone and all hurrying home as fast as they could.
She debated going to see Charlotte at the print house, so her father would not see her in this state, but the closer she got to home, the more she had no wish to see anyone but her father.
When she reached the house, she flung the door open and burst into the house, shutting the door loudly behind her.
Conversation suddenly broke off in front of her. Frederick and their cook, Franny, turned to face her, their expressions both stunned as they stared at her.
“Franny, could you get me a towel, please?” Becca managed to utter through trembling lips.
“Becca…what has happened?” her father asked, as neither he nor Franny moved.
Becca blinked, trying to push the tears away, but it didn’t help. The tears pooled out of her eyes and streaked her cheeks just as great gasping breaths made her convulse.
“A towel, Franny, please,” Frederick said hastily, then darted toward her.
It didn’t matter to him that she was covered in rainwater and she was very muddy. He swept her up into his arms, and she buried herself in his chest, crying on his shirt. It was warm and safe in her father’s arms, but it was not enough.
“There now, Becca, whatever has happened, we can fix it. I promise you that.”
