Jilted by a Scoundrel

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Jilted by a Scoundrel Page 20

by Cheryl Holt


  “He’s a dodgy character.”

  “He told me you’d denigrate him.” Ellen whirled to face her. “Look, I know you were sweet on him, and he spurned your affection.”

  “Is that how he explained himself?”

  “With how you threw yourself at him, it had to be so humiliating. I comprehend the basis for your low opinion. I really do.”

  “It’s not like that, Ellen. I was betrothed to him, and he jilted me at the altar.”

  “Why would he behave so despicably?”

  “He was marrying me for my money, but my father died, and we found out he was bankrupt. The moment Mr. Cartwright discovered the situation, he vanished.”

  “He just walked away? He disappeared in an instant?” Ellen snapped her fingers. “Was it like a magician performing a magic trick?”

  “Yes, it was just like that.”

  “It’s quite a riveting tale, Miss Watson, and you’ve had plenty of time to embellish the details.” Ellen scoffed. “He mentioned that you were still bitter, but I couldn’t have predicted the extent of your loathing.”

  “You have to promise me you won’t visit him again.”

  “I won’t promise you that. Your view doesn’t carry much weight with me.”

  “I’ve suffered egregiously because of him, and I can’t imagine your mother or uncle would like to hear that you’re involved with him.”

  Ellen bristled. “Will you tell them?”

  “Yes, I will—unless you give me your word that you’ll stay away from him. I’m not trying to get you in trouble, but if I can’t persuade you, then I’ll have to speak to them.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No! I’m merely anxious to convince you to stop this madness before you’re ruined. Mr. Cartwright doesn’t have any good intentions toward you.”

  “What would you know about it?”

  “I know him, and that’s more than enough.”

  Ellen studied her, then snorted with disgust. “You’re keen to scare me off.”

  “Yes! I absolutely am!”

  “You’re hoping I’ll leave him alone, so he can be yours again. He said you’re obsessed. That’s it, isn’t it? You want him for yourself!”

  “No, I don’t want him! You’re being absurd. How can I make you understand?”

  “You can’t. Just keep your mouth shut and keep away from Holden.”

  “Don’t force me to tattle to your uncle.”

  Ellen called her bluff. “Go ahead and tattle. I’ll deny any of your lies, and I’m a Dunn. You’re not. He’ll believe me over you, and you’ll sound like a jealous shrew.”

  She whipped away and stomped up the hill.

  “Ellen, wait!” Miss Watson pleaded. “Don’t be angry.”

  Ellen glared over her shoulder. “I’m not angry, Miss Watson. I simply think you’re pathetic.”

  The quarrel might have escalated, but from over on the cliffs, Bobby saw Miss Watson. He waved and started toward her, his ugly dog running up to Miss Watson to distract her.

  As she was petting it and talking to Bobby, Ellen continued on. She had no doubt Miss Watson would tattle. She was precisely the sort who would. She’d be delighted to destroy Ellen’s happiness, then she’d have Holden all to herself.

  Ellen couldn’t let that happen, so she needed to ponder carefully. If Melvina or John questioned her, she had to have her story straight.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “May I speak with you Mistress Dunn? In private?”

  Melvina glared at Miss Watson and said, “No, you may not.”

  “It’s about Ellen.”

  Melvina pulled up short. They were in the main hall, and Miss Watson had just announced that she planned to clean and rearrange the room so it was more functional at meals. She claimed John had requested it.

  Luckily, Melvina had been present to prevent any trouble. She had no idea when the building had been constructed, but she was certain the tables hadn’t been changed for centuries. She wasn’t about to let a shrew like Miss Watson implement any nonsense.

  She’d put her foot down, and the servants had all breathed a sigh of relief.

  No one listened to Miss Watson, and she was a fool to think she had any friends. She only had enemies, but was too stupid to realize the danger of her situation. For the moment, she’d charmed John, but the minute she lost his support, they’d all turn on her like a pack of wild dogs.

  The following day, they were celebrating the August moon, so they were hosting a huge party. Melvina hadn’t expended much energy getting ready. As with the layout of the tables, the gathering had been much the same for centuries.

  Cook Tim was in the kitchen, whipping up all the standard food. Kegs of ale would be opened, and in addition, people would bring home-brewed whiskey and wine to supplement various preferences. The same trio of musicians would play the same favorite tunes.

  Everyone knew their place and their role. Only Miss Watson was fretting. She’d complained that they weren’t concerned about the preparations. She’d actually dared to ask why they hadn’t swept or tidied and—with so many guests expected—shouldn’t they make a fuss?

  The woman was a nuisance who wasn’t nearly as smart as she assumed herself to be, and Melvina might have bitten her head off, except she’d mentioned Ellen. Melvina had many problems with Ellen, but they were between Melvina and her daughter. Miss Watson wasn’t allowed to have an opinion.

  “What about Ellen?” she demanded.

  “I need to share some news.” Miss Watson nervously glanced around the hall that was full of cousins. “But I’d rather not discuss it here.”

  “Fine. Come with me.”

  There was a small room close by that was ostensibly her office. Not that she ever used it. The castle rolled along on its on, and she rarely interfered. People had jobs to do, and they did them. Melvina wasn’t their nanny.

  She huffed off to it, and Miss Watson trudged in after her and shut the door. Melvina went to the desk and stood behind it. Miss Watson stood too, facing her.

  “What is it?” Melvina asked. “And please be brief. I’m not in the mood for a drawn out story.”

  “I’m happy to be brief.”

  “Get on with it then.”

  “There’s a man over in Dunworthy. A stranger.”

  “It’s a port town with a busy crossroads. On any given day, there are many strangers there.”

  “I have a history with him, and he’s a dodgy character. Ellen has been secretly meeting with him for several weeks.”

  Melvina froze. Ellen had been spending hours over in town. When Melvina had questioned her about it, she’d been vague as to her explanations. The girl was pretty and amiable, but foolish and naïve. If she’d been lured into stupid behavior with a devious male, Melvina wouldn’t be surprised.

  She would never admit it to Miss Watson though.

  Melvina’s tone was dubious. “You discovered this…how?”

  “I visited him at his rented room to find out why he was in Dunworthy. I didn’t believe it could be for a valid purpose, and as I was leaving, Ellen arrived. I talked to her about it later and tried to persuade her to stay away from him, but I merely made her angry.”

  Melvina scowled. “They’re romantically involved?”

  “I don’t know what’s happening. I simply know him, and he’s not a fellow you’d want sniffing around your daughter.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Holden Cartwright.”

  “Who is he to you?”

  “He was my fiancé.”

  Melvina was infuriated for a dozen different reasons. She was irked at Miss Watson, irked at Ellen, irked that some sort of action might be required.

  Melvina walked to the door and called to a servant. “Fetch Ellen for me. At once.”

  Then she spun to Miss Watson again. It only took a minute for Ellen to appear.

  “What is it, Mother?�
�� She blanched, then glared at Miss Watson. “What are you doing here?”

  Melvina jumped in. “Miss Watson claims you’ve been whoring with a stranger over in town.”

  “I never said that!” Miss Watson protested.

  “What’s going on?” Melvina said to Ellen. “Tell me the truth.”

  “I met a man—I don’t deny it. He’s charming and interesting, and he’s been very sweet.”

  “He’s dangerous, Ellen,” Miss Watson insisted.

  “Be silent,” Melvina snapped. “I want to hear Ellen’s version of this.”

  Ellen continued. “I stopped by—as a friend—to give him a gift of some Dunn ale. Miss Watson was there, and evidently, he’s an old beau of hers. On realizing he and I were cordial, she was very jealous. She ordered me to stay away from him, and she swore—if I didn’t—she’d get me in trouble with you.”

  Melvina snorted with disgust. “She’s definitely trying her best.”

  “I’m not trying to cause trouble,” Miss Watson said. “I thought you should be informed, Mistress Dunn. I’d hate for Ellen to be harmed.”

  “Yes, you’re a veritable saint, aren’t you?” Melvina said.

  Miss Watson shrugged. “I warned you, which was my goal. If this spirals into a huge catastrophe, don’t blame me.”

  Melvina gestured to Ellen. “That will be all.”

  “Are you sure, Mother? If she intends to spew more lies, I’d like to be here to counter them.”

  “She won’t spew more lies. Not any that I’ll listen to anyway.”

  Ellen dithered, then flounced off, and after her footsteps faded, Melvina said, “Will that be all, Miss Watson? Or is there further defamation you’d like to level against a member of my family?”

  “No, and I’m sorry to have bothered you about this. Obviously, it was a mistake.”

  “You constantly butt your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

  “I don’t view it that way.”

  “You’ve started to assume you have a position of authority in the castle.”

  “I don’t assume that.”

  “Don’t you? You’ve let Lord John crawl in and out of your bed, so you suppose it’s placed you above the rest of us.”

  Melvina hadn’t been completely certain about John and Miss Watson, but with how Miss Watson’s cheeks reddened, it was clear Melvina’s arrow had hit its mark.

  “Lord John and I aren’t involved,” Miss Watson said.

  “It’s too late to deny it, Miss Watson. We’ve been spying on you ever since you arrived. We know the sins you’ve committed, and your reputation is totally shredded.”

  Miss Watson looked as if she might faint. “You’ve had spies following me?”

  “Yes. You’ve tarried even though your mission has been accomplished with regard to Bobby and Jane. You’re thoroughly disliked and are surrounded by enemies. We couldn’t figure out why you were still in residence, and we were curious.”

  “Lord John said I could stay.”

  “I bet he did, but then, he’s always generous when he’s lifting a doxy’s skirt.”

  “I’m not a doxy!”

  “I was being polite in calling you a doxy. Aren’t you really a harlot? After all, you’re being paid for services rendered.”

  “I haven’t been paid for anything!”

  “Lord John is providing you with shelter. Isn’t that a form of payment? It seems like that to all of us.”

  “That’s the most insulting comment ever uttered in my presence.”

  Melvina ignored her paltry complaint and told the biggest lie she’d ever told. “You understand that John and I are engaged to be married, yes?”

  “I don’t understand that.”

  “It’s the Dunn tradition. He’ll wed me when he’s ready. In the meantime, I have to turn a blind eye as he enjoys his last flings as a bachelor. Of course, I would never permit him to slither between my thighs without my first having a ring on my finger. He’s begged me to let him, but I’m smarter than that.”

  Miss Watson paled. “I believe we’re finished. If you’ll excuse me?”

  Melvina couldn’t resist taking a final jab. “My mother advised me to never give a man any marital benefits until I was his bride. She said if a female spreads her legs too early, a fellow has no incentive to wed her.” Melvina chortled spitefully. “What did your mother tell you? Whatever it was, I guess you didn’t listen.”

  Miss Watson moaned with dismay and hurried out of the room. Melvina watched her go, then she went to track down Ellen and interrogate her.

  Ellen was a flirt and a fool, but she’d never be deliberately reckless. Then again, she was sixteen, and girls could be so silly. Melvina needed to remind her about choices and consequences. Ellen could be stubborn, but she knew right from wrong, and Melvina was determined that—for once—Ellen would heed her mother’s wise counsel.

  * * * *

  “Miss Watson!”

  Winnie staggered to a halt and whipped around. Freddie Townsend was marching toward her, and he appeared very angry, but she couldn’t imagine how she’d enraged him.

  She was at the end of a terrible day. It had begun with her pointless visit to Holden, then her stumbling on Ellen’s mischief. She’d compounded her misery by tattling to Melvina.

  Since that awful encounter, she’d been hiding in her bedchamber, hoping John might sneak in, but hoping he wouldn’t too. It was very late, and she was headed to the hot springs pool to bathe, being certain the therapeutic waters would soothe her low mood.

  She was near the stairs that led down to the grotto. Most everyone else was either in the main hall or asleep, so she was alone in the deserted spot. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of Mr. Townsend, but she wasn’t overly keen on chatting with him in such an isolated location.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Townsend?”

  “I’ve been searching for you for hours.”

  “I didn’t realize you were. I was tired, and I had supper in my bedchamber.”

  He approached until he was very close, until his boots slipped under the hem of her skirt. She actually felt a tad threatened.

  “What game are you playing, Miss Watson?” he asked. “You’re such a busybody. Has it ever occurred to you that busybodies are generally loathed?”

  “You seem upset with me, but I have no idea why. We’re barely acquainted, and you’re speaking in riddles. If you have a complaint about my behavior, please state it in plain English, so I can figure out what transgression I’ve committed.”

  “You were out of line in your disparagement of Ellen Dunn.”

  “So I’ve been told by her mother. I apologized for butting in, and I was thoroughly chastised by her. You needn’t reprimand me too. I won’t interfere again.”

  “How can we be sure of that?”

  “Trust me, I’m not a glutton for punishment.”

  She tried to walk on, but he had the gall to reach out and grab her arm, and his grip was so tight she had to pull furiously to get him to release her. As it was, she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d have bruises where his fingers had dug into her skin.

  “There’s no need to manhandle me,” she fumed. “I recognize that my conduct has incensed you, but I can’t fathom why.”

  “John is my best friend and always has been. I won’t let you denigrate any of his family, especially Ellen. Shut your mouth about her.”

  “I will, I have.”

  “Ellen is none of your business, and neither is Holden Cartwright.”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “In the future, I better not hear that you’ve mentioned his name. The fact that he’s been staying in Dunworthy doesn’t concern you.”

  “You’re correct, and I’ve admitted that you are, so I don’t understand all this animosity.”

  “You don’t have to understand it. You just have to be silent. No one wants you here. With your snippy attitude, you’ve offended peo
ple left and right. Why don’t you depart? We’re all counting the days until you leave.”

  The news broke her heart. She’d been struggling to fit in, but she should have grasped that it would be impossible to assimilate. She wasn’t ready to part from Jane and Bobby though. She simply couldn’t envision abandoning them, yet Mr. Townsend had a point.

  When her presence was so reviled, why would she tarry? She’d yearned to be accepted, to be liked, and such collective disdain wounded her.

  “Have you been apprised of the gossip swirling about you?” he asked.

  “No, but I suppose it’s hideous.”

  “Rumor has it that you’ve spread your legs for John. Is it true?”

  “Honestly, Mr. Townsend, I’ve been polite, but I don’t have to put up with your insults.”

  She tried to walk on again, and he grabbed her again.

  “You’re hurting me,” she seethed. “Let go.”

  “You might assume you can play the whore for John, but in the end, it won’t benefit you. He’s engaged to Melvina.”

  “Yes, yes, it’s what I keep hearing.”

  “So if you’re thinking he might marry you instead, you’re only fooling yourself. He would never perpetrate such an outrage, and his kin would never tolerate it.”

  “I will take your comments under advisement.”

  “Stop acting like a harlot,” he crudely taunted. “Mind your manners, remember your place, and flee Dunworthy as quickly as you can.”

  She couldn’t predict what might have happened, but behind them, laughter and voices suddenly echoed off the stone walls as a group of housemaids came up from bathing.

  Winnie yanked away. “Goodnight, Mr. Townsend.”

  “Don’t forget what I told you, Winnie. Heed me or suffer the consequences.”

  He whirled away and stormed back to the main section of the castle, and once he was out of sight, she muttered, “Don’t call me Winnie, you insolent pig.”

  She was trembling, and she forced a smile as she met the maids.

  “Are you the last ones?” she asked as they passed.

  “Yes. You’ll have the whole pool to yourself.”

  “Aren’t I lucky?”

  Though she was very nervous, she continued on. What if Mr. Townsend learned she was in the grotto by herself? What if he accosted her again?

 

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