He hesitated, unsure what more to say, and a little shocked at himself for having been so open about his situation. Generally, he would have rebuffed such a personal enquiry, determined to deal with all issues himself. Across the table, Lady Camellia Gardenbrook was regarding him with warm brown, sympathetic eyes. She seemed a kind young woman, with none of the sharp competitive nature so common in young ladies of the ton, despite her exquisite beauty. Perhaps that beauty gave her the confidence to have no need to compete. The Duchess of Hartswood also regarded him, but her expression was more considering. After a moment, she exchanged a glance with her husband, and then gave a tiny nod.
“If you will accept my assistance, I believe that you need no longer seek a sponsor for your sisters. I may not have been born to the ton, but I believe that I now have enough influence to be well placed to sponsor your sisters into society, and deal with any… lingering whispers.”
So – she knew of the gossip, which had seen an unfortunate resurgence of late.
Was she the right person? After all, as she had noted, she had not been born one of them. The fact that she had married a Duke did not redeem her in the eyes of some of the high-sticklers. But it did mean that they did not cut her, that they were pleasant to her at all times, hoping to curry her husband’s favour. And he was not, really, in a position to reject such an offer.
“Your Grace… Bella… I thank you. I am most certainly willing to accept your generosity – but… I suggest that you meet my sisters before you fully commit to this endeavour – I would not put either you or them in a position where you were not happy.”
A soft voice interjected at that point, and he turned his eyes to Lady Camellia, stunned, as he was every time that he saw her, by just how beautiful she was, and how unaffected in manner.
“Your Grace… I would offer my assistance as well. Not being married, I cannot sponsor your sisters – but I have a wide circle of friends, as well as a rather large family, all of whom I am sure will support them. My family are a little… unconventional… in their attitudes – but far too well connected for anyone to directly castigate us for that. And my sisters will likely be delighted to find new friends in your sisters.”
Deep in his mind, Damien discovered that he very much liked the idea of Lady Camellia and her family being involved in supporting Georgette and Marie’s coming out. For if they were, then he would have reason to spend more time in her presence. The thought disturbed him – he did not have time to become interested in any woman – would not, for that matter, wish to risk his heart and happiness by doing so. But still… she seemed so kind and gentle, so utterly unlike the other young women he had met. That might, of course, be a façade, he reminded himself.
“I thank you for your kindness, as I am sure Georgette and Marie will.”
He could do nothing but be gracious, and hope that his sisters liked these somewhat outspoken young women. The Duchess smiled brightly.
“Wonderful! We must arrange to have them come to tea as soon as possible. But… apart from your sisters’ needs, have you no plans for yourself?”
He felt his expression harden, and for a moment, his lips compressed. He had exposed himself enough this night – he would not grant further insight into his personal matters – despite the fact that he felt no animosity from those in the room.
“None, Your Grace.”
His tone made it abundantly clear that the topic was closed, and Bella leant back a little, as if unused to being so directly rebuffed – yet at the same time, her eyes narrowed slightly. He had the oddest sense that she understood, in some deeper than was to be expected fashion, his need to not allow himself to be vulnerable to any more gossip and prying.
He did not care for himself, but for his sisters… he needed to care.
The silence stretched and he was wondering what to do, to restore ease to the room, when Lady Camellia spoke again.
“Blackwater, I cannot imagine what it must be like for your sisters, to have so few close family. My family – both direct, and extended family – is so very large that there is always someone about, always someone I can turn to, if I need help. To not have that… would be very lonely, I think, at times.”
Damien met her eyes, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade into the background.
She was utterly sincere – he could see it in that concerned gaze. He did not know how to deal with that sincerity – not after the last year and more, of having had to reassess his entire life in the face of his father’s duplicity. He had ceased to trust that what anyone presented to the world was the truth – yet he found himself oddly certain that Lady Camellia was, indeed, as caring and kind as she appeared.
That left him disconcerted, and uncomfortable. As always of late, that sensation made him retreat behind a wall of cold politeness.
“Having not known any other situation, I cannot comment, my Lady. And I generally do not enquire into family matters. Experience has recommended such avoidance to me.”
It was Lady Camellia’s turn to flinch back, and that small shocked movement, in response to his somewhat pointed words, drove a pang through his heart in a most unexpected manner. He had not meant to hurt her, yet it seemed that he had. He felt, for a moment, like a cad. Which was another wholly new experience for him.
But the smile on her face never faltered, although it became somewhat more fixed, and after a moment, she spoke.
“I see. Then forgive me for commenting.”
At that point, the Duke of Hartswood turned the conversation to the follies of gentlemen’s fashion that year, commenting that he could see, from Blackwater’s plain and elegant attire, that he was a man of sense.
Damien allowed, gratefully, that he could not abide pointless fripperies on a man, and, as the next course was served, the moment of awkwardness was forgotten.
<<<
Camellia stopped the flinch as it began to happen, praying that he had not noticed the movement. She had not intended to pry, or criticise! Yet he had obviously interpreted her comment that way. She hated distressing anyone, and was mortified that she had apparently done so.
He was such a confusing man – one moment seeming open and friendly, and obviously genuinely caring for his sisters and their prospects in life, then the next moment cold and almost aloof, withdrawn, as if even the need to speak with others was trying. What made him that way? Did he have something to hide? And what had he meant about experience having recommended that he not discuss family matters?
Perhaps, when she met his sisters, she would learn more – of him, and of his family. That thought shocked her anew – was she truly actually wishing to use a man’s sisters to pry into his private life, when he so obviously expressly wished to keep it private? Chagrined, she had to admit that she was.
What was it about this man? What made him so intriguing, beyond his handsome appearance? For surely, in the past, any man who had been so dismissive to her would have been relegated to the list of those for whose company she did not greatly care. But with him, his manner simply made her want to know more.
She determinedly turned back to the food, after offering her apology, and was relieved when the conversation turned in another direction entirely. Still, the conundrum of his manner remained close to the surface of her thoughts, and she found herself looking forward rather intensely to the moment when she would meet Ladies Georgette and Marie Falton.
<<<
“What do you think about Blackwater’s behaviour?”
“What do you mean, Lady Weatherby?”
Lady Prunella Danby raised an eyebrow in Lady Weatherby’s direction. Whilst the widow was renowned for being a bit of a shrew, her insights were often worth considering. And anything on this particular topic was of interest to Lady Prunella – in a way. The other ladies in the room – all spinsters or widows aged forty and over – waited with somewhat bated breath for Lady Weatherby to explain.
None of them were exactly at the heart of fashionable soci
ety anymore, yet all were of respectable enough birth to be regarded as part of the ton. They met each week when they were in London, for tea and gossip, regardless of the weather.
“Well… one can’t help wondering – is he like his father? Does he have a roving eye and not too many scruples about who he seduces? One might expect it… but his behaviour, at every event where I have seen him, makes one wonder more. The silly young women flock about him, but he disregards them all. Nor does he seek out quiet liaisons with widows. So… what is he hiding?”
“What do you mean, hiding?”
“I can, my dear ladies, think of a number of possibilities. Could it be that he already has a fancy piece tucked away somewhere? Or….” Here, Lady Weatherby lowered her voice, as if what she was about to say was far to shocking to mention at a normal volume, “… or, could it be that he is… not interested in ladies…. that he is, in fact, more interested in… gentlemen? After all, he spent two years on the continent – who knows what depravities he was introduced to there?”
Gasps went around the room at her shocking suggestion. Lady Prunella drew in a sharp breath, and sipped her tea – good tea, far better than she had at home – and considered the idea. It was, she had to admit, not one that she had contemplated before. She already regarded Blackwater and his sisters as most likely lacking in moral fibre, as a result of the influence of their father – no matter what their mother may have thought, but this… if it was true, then just how much more tainted might they be?
The discussion continued, with various ladies holding forth on their opinions, one way or the other, but Lady Prunella did not contribute. She had far too much to think about to bother joining in.
Chapter Four
Camellia dropped into her favourite chair in Bella’s private parlour with a sigh.
“We are leaving for Chester Park in the morning, for Rose will be married within the week. And, as you can imagine, Elbury House is in total chaos with all of the arrangements. Is it bad of me to be glad that the wedding will be at Wrenton Hall, not here?”
“Of course not. How long will you be staying in the country?”
“Whilst Hyacinth would be overjoyed if we stayed with her at Chester Park for weeks, Mother has said no, for she wants to be back in London as soon as possible, and focussed on the coming Season – and her intent to find a husband for me.”
“Hmmm. I cannot be sorry that I will see you again soon, but I do sympathise with you – I will be forever grateful that my mother never had great ambitions for me, because of my merchant class origins. Stepping into society when Raphael was ennobled was bad enough.”
Camellia remembered those days all too well – her family had been one of the few to openly welcome Bella’s family when her brother had been made an Earl. Bella had been very much cut by many of the ton. Despite that, fate had brought her to the right place, and she was now a Duchess, married to a man she dearly loved.
“You are lucky that you did not have to go through a formal Season.”
“If you had asked me, two years ago, if I would agree with that sentiment, I would have laughed. Still, you are right – I am lucky. But society is full of most unkind people. Have you heard the gossip which is being passed around, about Blackwater, and even, a little, about his sisters?”
“Some of it, although I generally try to avoid speaking with the worst of the gossips – what they say is so often devoid of truth. But what have you heard? And can you make sense of it? For I admit, what I have heard has left me rather confused.”
What Camellia did not say, was that, for once, she had rather avidly been seeking the gossip – for the sake of understanding the challenges presented by her offer to help Blackwater’s sisters, she assured herself, not because she cared at all about what was said about him. Bella frowned, and gave a little shake of her head.
“It is confusing. As far as I can discover, some of it is based in truth – but most of it is the nasty minded thinking of people with far too much time to be petty, who can extrapolate far beyond the logical from the tiniest grain of truth. But Blackwater doesn’t help, with his tendency to be cold and aloof, and his refusal to confirm where that scar came from!”
Camellia laughed at the annoyance in Bella’s tone.
“He is rather mysterious, isn’t he? But I trust you, if anyone, will have worked out at least the rough shape of it, and what might be true – you have, haven’t you?”
Bella looked a little unsure, but sipped at her tea, then began to speak again.
“I think I have. Let me lay it out for you. The first gossip apparently went round near a year and a half ago, shortly after his father’s death. Around the time that Raphael was ennobled, and before anyone accepted me. So I heard nothing of it at the time.”
“And I wouldn’t have heard much either, as mother was still trying to limit how many of us went to social events, in the hope of finding a husband for Lily.”
“Exactly. But Lucien heard it then – although he would never have admitted to listening. What started it was the reading of Blackwater’s father’s Will. The information was spread by some cousin who had hoped to receive a bequest and had not – and was thereby incensed by the content of the Will. It seems that a bequest in the Will was the first that anyone knew of the old Duke having an illegitimate son – born two years after Blackwater was. And that bequest was in a sealed missive, or so some say, to be opened only before the recipient. I have my doubts about that, it’s very unusual – but it does seem to be true that no-one knows what the bequest was – or is, I should say, for it’s not been claimed.”
“So… there is an illegitimate son of the old Duke, that no-one knew about? And he hasn’t been found, hasn’t come forward?”
“Yes. Which has kept people gossiping. But by far the biggest aspect of the gossip has been the fact that the old Duke, who was always seen as a fine upstanding man, actually educed a woman, got a child on her, and wasn’t decent enough to acknowledge the child, and do right by him. They judge him as having been deficient in moral character, and then they make the leap to assuming that the current Duke, if raised by a man like that, may well be equally morally deficient.”
“Oh!”
Camellia shook her head at the madness of how society judged whole families by the actions of one person in the family.
“Yes, and the latest nastiness seems to be whispered suggestions that his sisters, having been raised in the same household, must also be tainted by moral weakness. It doesn’t seem to matter that there were no other improper doings in the household – that anyone has identified at least – for the rest of the old Duke’s life, there are those who would cast aspersions on ladies Georgette and Marie, simply because of their father’s one affair, before they were born.”
“That is so very unfair!”
“And I don’t even know how much of the story is true. That there was something unusual in the Will, and that it mentioned an illegitimate child, seems to be true, but everything else is open to question. And when you add in all of the whispers about Blackwater, about that scar, and duels, and whatever might have happened on the continent – none of which he confirms or denies – it makes fertile ground for the gossips’ imaginations.”
“I wonder how much his sisters know about all of this?”
“I am not sure – I suspect that he would have wanted to protect them from it – the gossip at least – but I can’t see how they could possibly not know about the bequest and the illegitimate brother, for surely they were at the Will reading. We shall have to be careful when we meet them.”
“Yes – I will invite them for tea at Elbury House, within the few days after we return from Rose’s wedding. You too, of course.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan.”
<<<
Damien spun on his heel, with that fluid grace which came from many long hours of sword practice, and strode across the room. Around him, the quiet conversations of the men in White’s slowed to a stop
. He reached a group in one corner, who met him with a mixture of belligerent and guilty expressions.
“I believe that I heard my name mentioned, gentlemen?”
“Ah… err… we were just…”
“Gossiping. Disparaging me, and my sisters, for want of anything better to do, I believe. Be warned, I expect such talk to stop. If it does not, perhaps I will feel motivated to demonstrate to some among you the skills which resulted in this scar.”
He waved a hand to his face, with a casual air, and waited. He was almost tempted to laugh, for, if the truth be known, he had worn the scar since his last year at Eton, and a drunken fall from a tree. But it made an excellent tool for impressing fools.
One young man began to bluster, but his friend pushed him aside.
“Duelling won’t be necessary, Blackwater. Please, accept my apology, if you are offended. But really, you can’t blame us for being interested! It’s not often that news of an illegitimate son of a Duke stays hidden for twenty years and more – and it’s still a mystery, for, unless you know something we don’t, the man’s current location has not been identified.”
Damien kept his face impassive, cold, and hard – the last thing he wanted to do was reveal to the men before him that those words were no longer true.
“Regardless of how fascinating you find it, my family is not a subject for idle speculation. What my father may have done long ago bears no relevance to me, or to my sisters, now. You would do well to remember that.”
The man gave him a shallow bow, and Damien turned away, the bitter frustration rising within him. Would his father’s betrayals never stop causing damage?
A Diamond for a Duke : Book 4: Camellia: Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters - The Elbury Bouquet) Page 3