Page 46 of Duke of Silver
As Elizabeth refilled her teacup, she noticed a sudden shift in the Viscountess’s demeanor. The lightness of their conversation seemed to evaporate, replaced by a somber air that was entirely uncharacteristic of Lady Compton. Elizabeth’s brow furrowed in concern.
“You mustn’t have heard, have you, Your Grace?” Lady Compton asked, her tone hushed.
“Heard what?” Elizabeth replied, a mix of confusion, concern, and curiosity threading through her voice.
The Viscountess set down her teacup, her eyes darting around the room as though to ensure they were alone. The weight of her next words seemed to hang in the air before she finally spoke.
“I’m afraid some unsavory news has been circulating about your marriage,” she said softly.
Elizabeth felt her heart drop, an unpleasant weight settling in the pit of her stomach. The rumors that had plagued them in town seemed to have found their way to the country, relentless in their pursuit. It was as if there was no escape, no end to the whispers that threatened to unravel the fragile peace she was trying to maintain.
She thought of Georgianna’s ominous warnings, and the shadow they had cast over her already troubled thoughts. The world seemed determined to remind her of the precariousness of her situation, and the isolation that accompanied it.
“Last night, I hosted a few relatives who were taking a respite from the festivities in Town,” Lady Compton began, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “As we spoke of the assembly and how lovely you appeared alongside the Duke, they shared some rather troubling news.”
Elizabeth felt her heart quicken, the air between them growing heavy with unspoken words. She had never seen the Viscountessso grave, and the weight of her concern only deepened Elizabeth’s anxiety.
“What news do you speak of, Lady Compton?” Elizabeth asked.
The Viscountess hesitated for a moment, then continued with a sigh. “It is being said that the Duke is the victim of an affair—a supposed affair between you and his brother."
“Oh God,” Elizabeth gasped, the words striking her like a blow. The very fear that had grasped her since their marriage was now confirmed in the ugliest of forms.
“Of course, I find the notion utterly ridiculous,” Lady Compton said, her spirits rallying as she spoke. “Such lies, such baseless attempts to tarnish the Sterlin name, are truly abhorrent. I felt it my duty to warn you as soon as I learned of it.”
“I appreciate your efforts, Lady Compton,” Elizabeth managed to say, though her mind was reeling.
“Oh, do not thank me. What are friends for, if not to look out for one another?” the Viscountess replied, waving off the gratitude with a kind smile.
Elizabeth attempted to return the smile, but the bitterness of the rumors settled like a stone in her chest. How could such vile gossip spread so quickly, so effortlessly? She thought of Alexander, of the tension that already existed between them,and wondered how this latest slander would affect them. Would he believe such lies? Would he blame her?
Long after the Viscountess had taken her leave, Elizabeth found herself pacing the drawing room, her thoughts tangled in the web of their conversation. The weight of the rumors pressed heavily upon her, each whisper a dagger aimed at her marriage, at the fragile bond she and Alexander had yet to fully form. The situation was far graver than she had initially believed; the scandal seemed to be spreading like wildfire, consuming all in its path.
Returning to London—yes, that must be the solution. It was the only way she could see to stem the tide of this vile gossip. If they presented themselves as a united, contented couple before society, perhaps they could quash the rumors before they took deeper root. The thought gave her a glimmer of hope, but it was quickly overshadowed by the daunting task ahead.
She would have to convince Alexander to return to Town with her, to join her in this pretense. The very idea of approaching him filled her with dread. After the previous night’s revelations, she felt the sting of her own insensitivity, of having probed too deeply into wounds that were still raw. The guilt knotted her insides, making the prospect of another conversation with him even more unbearable.
Elizabeth felt torn, caught between her desire to protect her marriage and the overwhelming fear of facing her husband again.
CHAPTER 21
Elizabeth was clearly still displeased with him; that much was evident. The memory of her cold dismissal in the front hall pricked at Alexander as he rode through the countryside. His grip tightened on the reins, and he urged his horse onward, seeking some solace in the wind that whipped through his hair. But the ride brought little relief.
Georgianna. Her name alone was enough to sour his mood further. She was fast becoming the bane of his existence, a thorn that pricked at the fragile peace he had hoped to find in this marriage. He had wanted nothing more than a quiet, uncomplicated life—yet here he was, ensnared in a web of complications.
He knew he needed to apologize to Elizabeth, but the words eluded him. How did one begin to mend what felt so broken? His thoughts were a tangled mess as he dismounted in front of Colin’s cottage, a charming abode that spoke of wealth and comfort. It was more befitting a king than a simple lord.
“I shall inform His Lordship of your call,” the butler greeted him as he was admitted inside.
“There is no need,” Alexander waved him off. “Tell me where he is.”
“Up in his chambers, Your Grace.”
“Good.” Alexander was already making his way up the stairs.
He entered Colin’s room to find it in a state of disarray, with boxes and luggage strewn about. “What about all these boxes?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Ah, I’m afraid it’s time for me to return to London,” Colin replied, a touch of melancholy in his voice.
