Page 22 of A Virgin for His Grace
"Nevertheless," she said carefully, "I would not wish my presence to cause difficulties for Livia. She has enough challenges to face without being associated with my... tarnished reputation."
"Livia's reputation will survive any association with you," Devon said firmly. "As will yours, given time and proper management. Society's memory is notoriously short when it comes to scandals that do not directly affect their own interests."
Before Arabella could respond to this reassurance, they wereapproached by a tall, elegant woman in her fifties whose sharp intelligence was immediately apparent in her keen gray eyes. Lady Worthington, their hostess, moved through her guests with the confidence of a woman accustomed to command, her silk gown and magnificent diamonds proclaiming her status as one of society's undisputed leaders.
"Ravenshollow," the older woman said warmly, extending her hand for his kiss with the familiarity of long acquaintance. "How delightful that you could attend this evening. And this must be the young lady I have heard so much about."
Her gaze moved to Arabella with genuine interest rather than the malicious curiosity she had encountered from Lady Huxley, and Arabella felt some of her tension ease at this evidence of proper breeding.
"Lady Worthington," Devon said with a slight bow, "allow me to present Miss Arabella Greystone, who has been kind enough to serve as companion to my sister. Miss Greystone, Lady Worthington has been a dear friend to my family for many years."
"Miss Greystone," Lady Worthington said with genuine warmth, extending her hand with the sort of recognition that marked her as a true lady. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Ravenshollow tells me you have been instrumental in preparing dear Livia for her debut. Such a sweet child, though rather shy. She is fortunate indeed to have found such an accomplished companion."
The genuine kindness in the older woman's voice made Arabella's throat tighten with unexpected emotion. After thecalculated cruelty of Lady Huxley's reception, this evidence of true breeding and compassion was almost overwhelming.
"You are too kind, my lady," she managed. "Lady Livia requires little guidance from me. She possesses natural grace and intelligence that need only minor refinement."
"Modesty becomes you, my dear, though I suspect you underestimate your own contributions." Lady Worthington's sharp eyes missed nothing as they moved between Devon and Arabella, clearly noting the charged undercurrent that flowed between them despite their careful maintenance of professional distance. "Tell me, where is our dear girl this evening? I had hoped to see how she goes on."
"She remained at home," Devon replied smoothly. "A slight headache, nothing serious, but we thought it best that she rest rather than risk overtiring herself."
The explanation was perfectly reasonable, yet Arabella knew the truth was rather different. Livia had indeed complained of feeling unwell, but her indisposition had been more nervous than physical. A reaction to the prospect of facing the same social scrutiny that had so recently destroyed her companion's reputation.
"Quite wise," Lady Worthington agreed with approval. "The Season will be demanding enough when it begins in earnest. No need to exhaust oneself at preliminary gatherings." She paused, her gaze sharpening with what appeared to be genuine concern. "I trust she is not allowing the current gossip to distress her unduly? Young ladies of sensitive disposition can be quite affected by such things."
The oblique reference to Arabella's scandal hung in the air between them, and she felt her cheeks burn with renewed embarrassment at being discussed so openly, even by someone as well-intentioned as Lady Worthington.
"Livia is made of sterner material than she appears," Devon said with quiet pride. "And she has Miss Greystone's excellent example to guide her. I have complete confidence that she will navigate whatever challenges society may present."
The note of steel in his voice suggested that anyone who attempted to use Arabella's disgrace to harm his sister would find themselves facing the full weight of his displeasure. A prospect that even the most determined gossips would think twice about risking.
"I am certain she will," Lady Worthington agreed warmly. "And Miss Greystone, you must know that you have friends in society who will not allow malicious tongues to go unchallenged. Lady Huxley and her ilk may enjoy their temporary triumph, but they will find that decent people remember the difference between mistakes and genuine character."
The unexpected support from such an influential figure made Arabella's eyes prick with grateful tears, though she blinked them back with determination. She would not provide additional fodder for the gossips by displaying weakness in public.
"Thank you, my lady," she said quietly. "Your kindness means more than I can express."
"Think nothing of it, my dear. Now, I believe I see LordStanton approaching, and I must speak with him about his latest parliamentary speech. Such tedious politics, but necessary, I suppose." She turned back to Devon with a meaningful look. "Do take care of Miss Greystone, Ravenshollow. She is a credit to your household and deserves to be treated as such."
As Lady Worthington moved away to attend to her other guests, Arabella found herself alone with Devon once more, the charged atmosphere between them intensified by their shared ordeal of social scrutiny.
"She is a remarkable woman," Arabella observed, grateful for a neutral topic of conversation. "Her support could make a significant difference to both Livia's prospects and my own... rehabilitation."
"Eleanor Worthington has never lacked for courage or compassion," Devon agreed. "She and my mother were dear friends, and she has watched over Livia and me with almost maternal concern since their deaths. Her good opinion is not easily earned, but once given, it is steadfast."
There was something in his tone that suggested Lady Worthington's approval of Arabella carried weight beyond mere social convenience, though she dared not examine too closely what that might mean for their increasingly complicated relationship.
"I am honoured by her kindness," she said carefully. "Though I fear others may not prove so... charitable in their assessments."
Even as she spoke, Arabella was acutely aware of thewhispered conversations that seemed to follow in their wake, the speculative glances and barely concealed pointing that marked her as an object of curiosity and scandal. The weight of their scrutiny pressed upon her like a physical burden, making her long to retreat to the safety of Ravenshollow Manor.
Devon's keen eyes noted her discomfort with the sort of perceptiveness that never failed to unsettle her. "You are thinking too much about what cannot be changed," he said quietly. "The past is past, Arabella. What matters now is how you choose to face the future."
The use of her given name in such a public setting sent a thrill of awareness through her despite her determination to maintain proper emotional distance. Yet before she could respond to his observation, they were approached by a gentleman whose appearance made her stomach clench with sudden dread.
Mr. James Whitmore moved through the crowd with the determined purpose of a man on a mission, his pale eyes fixed upon Arabella with an intensity that made her wish she could simply disappear into the elegant wallpaper. He was a perfectly presentable gentleman in his early thirties, with the sort of conventional good looks and adequate fortune that made him a reasonable match for any woman of modest expectations.
Yet the sight of him filled Arabella with something uncomfortably close to panic, her mind immediately returning to those unwelcome flowers and his presumptuous message about her "temporary exile."
