Page 29 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
Sidney took a breath. He could see what she was holding. It was the scandal sheets—one of the least appealing parts of London high society. Scandalous news was printed there, and he took a breath, knowing it had to be about him or Mama would never have deigned to read anything. He took it from her, eyes widening as he read.
“...that this scarred oddity dares to show his face at public balls is a disgrace by itself,” he read aloud. He blinked, his eyes filling with hot, angry tears. He bit his lip and turned away so that his mother could not see them. Being called unattractive was bad enough, especially given that he was handsome—or he had been, before the riding accident. Being spoken of like a creature, a beast not even granted human dignity—it was painful.
“Oh, son,” his mother whispered. She was crying, tears running freely from her pale green eyes. He reached for her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s not your fault,” he said stiffly. “You didn’t write the article.” He tried to laugh. Even he could hear the tightness in hisvoice.
His mother looked down. “I know. I should never have shown you, son. I just had to understand what it meant,” she added softly.
Sidney frowned. What it meant was evident, unless there was more. He read on. His eyes skimmed over the raw insults. He knew they would be there, and he did not want to know the details. He read on.
“...but that he chose to dance with Lady Anastasia, a young lady who made her debut in society just last year, is surprising. That a young lady so new among the ton should risk the dent to her reputation of taking the hand of this creature is surprising. Perhaps she likewise has a scandal up concealed.”
Sidney felt his hand close so forcefully that the paper tore.
“Sidney?” his mother asked, frowning. She looked worried. He took a breath.
“Sorry, Mama. I just...I suppose the tension of it all is too much.” He tried to hide his rage. Somehow, he did not want his mother to know of Lady Anastasia. She was beautiful, she was fresh in society. He knew his hopes were foolish. Mama would try to spare him, but she would try and dissuade him from pursuing her and push him towards someone he could reasonably aspire to wedding as they needed an heir.
“What happened?” his mother asked. “Who is this young woman? Have I at any time met her?” She sounded interested, not angry.
He took a breath. “I am sure neither of us have met her before,” he began. “Mama...please, do not worry. I assure you I will do my best. I know I must wed. Somehow, even if it means braving Almack’s again, I will achieve our objective.”
His mother frowned. “Son. I just wondered,” she said gently.
“I...” Sidney began, trying to assure her that he knew she was worried, and he would try to take the matter in hand, but then the door burst open.
“Your Grace!” The butler exclaimed, but before he could get a word out, a voice boomed.
“Where’s my cousin? You wretch! Show him to me.”
Sidney took a breath. “Giles!” he called out. He glanced at Mama, who was pale. He went swiftly to the door and found Giles there. The mix of unwashed clothes and brandy suggested to Sidney that Giles had likely not gone home, or that, if he had, he had slept in his clothes. He tried to smile and was enveloped in a hug.
“Cousin! There you are. I thought...I thought you were at the Grantham...” he swayed on his feet. His expression showed that he was in pain and Sidney felt a twist of compassion. The poor man had spent the night, and probably the day, drinking and not eating and there was a fair chance he had done himself some damage with that.
“Mr. Moreton?” he addressed the butler. “Please, send for Dr. Benfield.”
“At once, Your Grace.” The butler bowed.
Sidney turned back to Giles as his cousin let out a guffaw. “You sly thing! Sneaking off home. I thought you were at the Grantham...”
He turned around and Sidney winced, knowing the poor fellow was going to be ill. He quickly gestured to a passing footman.
“Please, Mr. Hensley—take my cousin to the guest suite. Make sure he goes to bed at once.”
The footman gave Giles a compassionate glance and inclined his head.
“At once, Your Grace.”
Sidney watched as Giles followed the footman down the hallway. He let out a sigh.
“Poor man.”
Sidney nodded. His mother was watching with a compassionate stare.
“Harriet is so worried. It’s on account of Lady Amery’s daughter.”
“I know,” Sidney replied sadly. Giles had been wildly enamored of the girl, but she had eloped with a sea-captain and gone to France with him on his ship. He felt his heart twist painfully. Giles had lost interest in everything after that, and thatwas why he drank.
