Page 16 of The Uncompromising Marquess
“I may have said a little too much.” With a sigh, Lady Wickton shook her head. “I do not mean to speak out of turn but Lady Florence is not only my cousin, but she is also my very dear friend. I wish to come alongside her, to support her and encourage her, for she has no one else. That is the spirit in which I came to you, Lord Applegate. I shall take my leave of you now.”
Joseph said nothing, only offering a bow towards Lady Wickton as she walked between him and Emily, returning to the ball without a glance back in his direction.
He ran one hand over his eyes and groaned.
“I think I shall take my leave also.”
Dropping his hand, Joseph reached to catch his sister’s arm. “Emily, wait.”
She looked back at him, that disappointment in her expression biting at him. Her shoulders were dropped, her head a little heavy, and the way she could not quite hold his gaze sent his conscience screaming with regret.
“I know I did wrong, Emily,” he said, the words fighting hard against being spoken, but he said them nonetheless, his fingernails biting into his palms. “I did not think about Lady Florence, I thought only of what was being overheard by so many others and –”
“And you wanted to protect yourself and your reputation over telling the truth.” Emily shook her head. “Applegate, you would soundly criticize any gentleman or lady who did such a thing. If you found out that someone in society had lied to keep their own reputation pristine, you would berate them aloud – and in public, no doubt.” Her gaze fell away from his face as she began to move away from him. “To be blunt, brother, you are a hypocrite and I find that very upsetting indeed.”
The desire to say something more to defend himself so that Emily would not think so poorly of him was great, but Joseph remained silent. There was nothing that hecouldsay, he realized, nothing that would do any good. Every word she had said was true, and Joseph despised himself for it.
Watching her walk away, Joseph’s heart began to tear. Yes, his sister irritated him greatly, and her determination to supposedlyhelphim find a bride had been deeply frustrating, but that did not mean that he was unaffected by her disappointment in him. Tugging his lips to one side, Joseph tried to think clearly, wondering what it was he could do to make amends.
I must speak to Lady Florence.
The thought of going to her for the second time to apologize – and this time, to apologize for something all the more serious – made him wince. It was not something he was used to but in this circumstance, Joseph saw that he had no other choice. He had not seen her reaction when he had denied all responsibility. He had been so filled with frustration over Lady Grangemouth’s interruption, as well as concern over his own standing, that he had not even thought to look in her direction.
But if Lady Wickton is upset, then I can assume that Lady Florence is all the more so.
Throwing his head back, Joseph gazed up at the ceiling, trying to collect his thoughts. He had the rest of the evening to enjoy and was meant to be finding even one young lady that he might begin to consider, but now, his thoughts were circling only one young lady – and she not even someone he would ever think to take as a bride! Nonetheless, Joseph feared that, until he spoke with her and apologized sincerely, she would not be gone from his thoughts… which meant that now, Lady Florence was his one and only consideration.
8
“Your sister and her husband are coming to London!”
Florence tried to smile as her mother waved a letter about in an excited fashion. “How wonderful.”
“They are going to join us for Christmas, which I think is most kind of Lord Brighton. Though that does mean that we shall have to decorate this house properly, does it not?”
With a nod, Florence reached for her teacup and then drained it before setting it back down. She had intended to call upon Helena this afternoon before an evening soiree they were to attend, but the snow had begun to fall again in the earlier part of the morning. Seeing it, her mother had forbidden her from taking out the carriage for fear that something would happen, leaving them unable to attend their evening occasion. Thus, Florence had been forced to linger in the drawing room, listening to her mother’s chatter and waiting for her to berate her terribly for lying to her. The ball last evening had proven disastrous, leaving Florence in a state of great despair. Lord Applegate had shown himself to be no gentleman at all, shattering her expectations and ruining her hope that hermother might, for once, understand that she was not to blame for all embarrassments or mishaps.
She did not know what to think now. There was, as far as she had seen, no real reason for Lord Applegate to pretend he had not done such a thing. Helena had tried to speak with her about it, but Florence had begged her not to bring the subject to the fore, battling to keep her composure for the remainder of the evening.
“We have only just passed Stir-Up Sunday, but I am certain Cook will be able to provide us with all that we need to make the Christmas pudding, even if it is a little late.”
Florence glanced at her mother and then looked into the roaring fire, feeling the heat from the flames, but the cold in her heart did not fade. Christmastime did not hold any sense of expectation or hope for her, not now. She would undoubtedly fail in securing a match, would upset her mother’s standing and reputation for having all her daughters wed in the first Season, and would bring yet more shame and upset to her family. No doubt it would be spoken of around the Christmas table by both her mother and her sister, for Laura had always been openly critical of Florence’s shyness.
“We must have everything we need to decorate the house,” Lady Grangemouth continued, as if Florence were not present. “Apples and oranges, yes? And hawthorn, laurel, and hellebore. I do so love hellebore, do you not? I am sure your father will wish to host some sort of occasion here very soon also, mayhap in time for Laura and Brighton’s arrival. That means that everything must be in place.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Lady Grangemouth tutted lightly. “You are showing no interest whatsoever, Florence. Whatever is the matter?”
If I tell you,Florence thought to herself,you will not understand.“I am a little tired, Mother, that is all.”
Her mother frowned. “At least the bruise on your cheek is fading.”
“Yes, it is.” Florence looked down at her hands, quite certain that a beratement was soon to follow. It was somewhat surprising that her mother had not mentioned the mark on Florence’s forehead, but that, she knew, had been easier for her maid to hide than the one on her cheek. All the one on her forehead had required was for her hair to be pinned in a particular way, so that it was quite covered.
“Lord Applegate’s sister – Lady Lanark, if I recall – corrected Lord Applegate on his confusion.” With another click of her tongue, Florence’s mother tossed her head. “I thought her a little rude coming to interrupt as she did, but I suppose she meant well.”
The chill that had been in Florence’s heart began to fade just a little. “I beg your pardon, Mother?”
