The Scandal of Lady Eleanor

by Regina Jeffers

  “I believe he did, Lady Worthing.” Prinny turned his attention to the school teacher-looking woman standing quietly among the Thornhill party. In a silent request, James prayed the Prince would ask the right questions.

  “Miss Nelson.”

  “Yes,Your Highness.” The woman refused to raise her eyes to Prince George.

  “You will tell me the truth.”

  “Yes,Your Highness.”

  “Have you recently traveled in what is known as the Lake District of England?”

  “Yes,Your Highness.”

  “And have you spent time at Viscount Worthing’s estate in Derbyshire?”

  “I have, Your Highness. It was an honor to be among Lord Worthing’s guests at his wedding to Lady Fowler.”

  “Are you related to either the Fowlers or the Kerringtons?”

  “No,Your Highness. My parents were Baron and Lady Nelson of Lancashire.”

  “It is impossible!” Levering seethed with anger. “I made her up. There is no Miss Nelson.”

  The snickering became more prevalent, and Levering whirled around to silence his critics. “So, you do not believe me. Well, you will believe this.” He pulled one of the black diaries from underneath his coat. “Read it,Your Majesty. It is my mother’s diary. In it, she describes her relationship with the late Duke of Thornhill and a very young Lady Eleanor.” The crowd pressed forward to hear better what Levering said.

  “Easy,” James cautioned in Ella’s ear. “Stare him down. We burned the real books.”

  With James by her side, Ella looked down her aristocratic nose at the baronet. “My father was a duke, Sir. He would have had nothing to do with a man who only achieved his title because three cousins died in a freak drowning accident. My family has controlled the dukedom for nearly two hundred years. As for your mother, she threw herself at my father, but he loved only the Duchess Amelia Braton Fowler.”

  “May she rest in peace,” Aunt Agatha made the sign of the cross. “My sister was of the finest cut.”

  “Here, here.” Lord Witherspoon confirmed. “Have we not heard enough of this whippersnapper’s lies,Your Highness?”

  “Read it,Your Majesty,” Levering insisted, his expression sobering his critics. “Read it aloud for all I care. It is not very flattering to my parents, but I am willing to shoulder their shame to prove why Thornhill and Worthing despise me and why they have set about to smear my good name.”

  Prinny took the book and handed it to one of his footmen. “Ask the captain of the guard to come to us.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The man cleared a way through the crowded room.

  “Do you have a favorite entry, Sir Louis?” Prinny motioned for the servant to take up the book.

  “December 5,Your Highness.”

  “Please read to us the entry dated December 5.” Prinny leaned on his walking stick, looking casually amused by this scene.

  “At once, Your Highness.” The guardsman turned to the required page, cleared his throat, and read in a voice that reverberated off the gold inlay of the walls.

  December 5

  Robert took too much to drink again tonight. Between the port and his love of the black powder, he is often incapacitated, although from the beginning, he was never much good that way. This evening, I found him passed out in his bed, dressed in my favorite nightgown. Sometimes I believe he looks better in it than do I.

  “Stop it!” Levering ordered, before charging forward to grab the book from the man’s hands. “That is not what it says. It must not be the right diary.”

  “It is your proof,” the Duke’s hatred became more evident. He turned to the Prince. “Your Highness, I believe we have tolerated Sir Louis’s tirades long enough. He has slandered my father, my sister, my friends, and me. Everything he said was false. I am a loyal Englishman and do not wish to break English law, but I demand satisfaction. I will not let Worthing do this; he has a family—an ailing father, a mother, a son, a sister and brother, a new niece, and a new wife, my sister. I have only my daughter, and I am willing to give up my title and return to the Continent for the gratification of running Sir Louis through with a sword.”

  Levering began to edge to the side, but Crowden and Swenton blocked his retreat.

  “If you do not mind, Your Grace, I find this all so amusing, and I would like to hear more of Lady Levering’s words.” Prinny placed a good-natured pat on Bran’s shoulders before motioning the guardsman to again take possession of the book and to continue his oration. James and Bran exchanged a worried look. They had planned to issue a challenge to the baronet. Now, they would have to play the hand the Prince dealt them.

  Louis recently lost more money at the tables. I wish he spent as much time in his university studies as he does in the gaming hells and houses of ill repute. Of course, what should I expect? The boy is exactly like his father, and I do not mean Robert. If he were Robert’s son, I would need to dress him as my daughter.

  Again, people began to laugh, including the Prince’s cortege, and everywhere Levering looked smiling faces and pointing fingers greeted him.“Cease!” he demanded, rushing at one group and then another. “Stop it this moment!”

  “Sir Louis would look fine as a female; he has attractive eyes,” Lord Witherspoon taunted. “Maybe he is Levering’s son, after all.”

  “If he is not Levering’s son, then he is not the baronet.” Marcus Wellston’s voice silenced the growing turmoil. He maintained his distance from the Fowler group, appearing to be part of the interested throng.

  Prinny laughed, and all his cronies laughed, and then the rest of the guests and servants followed suit. “You are correct, Lord Yardley, and if Sir Louis is not the baronet, Huntingborne Abbey is not his.”

  “Your Highness, you cannot mean to take away my home.” Levering now stood alone. A semicircle of the cream of the ton surrounded him.

  “By your mother’s own words,” the Prince began, “you are not Robert Levering’s son. If so, you are not a baronet, and by your mother’s own words, you were born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

  “I am not a bastard!” Levering bellowed. “I am a baronet!”

  Prinny bristled at Levering’s tone, his amusement with the scene dwindling. No one spoke to him that way. “You are a baronet, Sir, only if I say you are.” Prince George’s tone warned of an atmospheric change. “And I, Sir, say you are no longer a baronet. England owns Huntingborne Abbey. In fact, I have a better idea. Mr. Lowery?”

  “Yes,Your Majesty.” Carter bowed properly.

  “You, Sir, are a second son, are you not?”

  “That is correct,Your Highness. My elder brother Lawrence is my father’s heir.”

  “Would you care to be a baronet, Sir? You may take possession of Huntingborne Abbey tomorrow if you accept. At least, I know that you have served England faithfully.”

  “It is a great honor,Your Highness. I am speechless.”

  “I hope you have the ability to agree to my offer.”

  “Yes…” Carter stammered. “Yes, I gratefully accept your offer, Your Highness.”

  “No!” Levering threw himself at the Prince, half in anger and half in disbelief. “It is my home!” He took the Prince by the shoulders and shook him violently. Guards immediately grabbed him and bent Levering over a nearby chair, but he fought until they subdued him completely.

  “He attacked the Prince!” someone from the rear of the room exclaimed. “Sir Louis attacked Prince George. No one attacks England and lives!”

  “Throw him in Old Bailey and throw away the key.” An elderly man supporting a grey-haired matronly woman declared.

  Worthing spoke at last.“I suggest transportation.Australia’s penal colony for life would satisfy me.What of you,Thornhill?” James had orchestrated this whole charade, but he had never expected Levering to grab the Prince. He had only hoped for a turn of the royal head while either he or Fowler faced Levering on a dueling field.

  “I would accept transport,” Bran bowed to the Pr
ince, “if you deem it appropriate punishment,Your Majesty.”

  “In the olden days they would have cut out his tongue for speaking such invectives against the good name of the English aristocracy,” Witherspoon added.

  The elderly lord observed, “In King Henry VIII’s time, the man would have had no head.”

  “Immediate transportation seems reasonable.” Prinny motioned the guards to remove his attacker. They carried a screaming and combative Louis Levering from the room. When the fracas died away, the Prince acknowledged Fowler again. “You shall have to attend my parties more often, Thornhill. I cannot remember the last time I was so entertained. Lord Worthing, I offer you and your viscountess my apologies for allowing Sir Louis’s mad ramblings to smudge your reputation, but then how else might we have proven him insane? Imagine a woman of your quality even looking at a man such as Louis Levering out of more than pity.You are too benevolent, Lady Worthing.”

  “I am,Your Majesty. It is a character flaw upon which I will seek improvement, although my heart sometimes controls my head.” Ella tried to smile, but she wondered how many people would believe Levering.

  “Your wife will suit you well, Worthing, but I insist she walk with me about the room.”

  James eased Eleanor from his hold. “Lady Worthing would consider it an honor, Your Highness.” He bowed as the Prince extended an arm to Ella.

  Dutifully, she accepted the prince’s proffered arm and strolled by his side. Each time they stopped, Prinny introduced her as one of Queen Charlotte’s favorites, relating the Queen’s tale of Ella’s strong sense of propriety and her upholding of the traditions of Society. He rejoiced in making her known to those in attendance, but Ella still smarted from the previous scene.

  As they moved to another group, the Prince leaned in to whisper, “I knew your father’s tastes permeated your household, but I am pleased to see that you and your brother have risen above the late Duke’s reputation. Now, Viscountess Worthing, for the rest of the room, I wish for you to converse and smile as if Levering was nothing more than the fly you have just killed on the wall.Viscount Worthing was correct. Whatever he told you about not letting the likes of Louis Levering defeat you has served you well. Dare these people to question your worth by showing them a woman who faces life as it is. They will believe what you want them to believe. Cower, and they will promote the accuracy of Levering’s rants. Hold your head high, and they will see him as a madman.”

  “Thank you,Your Majesty, for doing this.”

  “For thwarting an attack on the English nobility? Think nothing of it; it is my destiny.” Prinny took her free hand and brought it to his lips. “Are you sure you would not prefer a prince to a future earl, my Lady?” he teased.

  “Maybe some day I will tire of the Earl.” Ella smiled at him and caught his arm a bit tighter.

  Prinny barked out a laugh. “You are delightful,Viscountess.”

  After an hour, Prince George returned Ella to James’s side. “You are a lucky man, Worthing.”

  “I am,Your Highness. I have found something few men of our stations can claim.” He extended an outstretched hand to Ella, and she curtsied before leaving the Prince’s side.

  “Thank you,Your Highness, for your kindness and your attention.”

  “Good evening, Lady Worthing.” With those words, Prinny returned to those who waited attendance on his every wish, and Ella walked into a life of which she had never allowed herself to dream.

  Thirty minutes later, the Fowlers and the Worthings offered their excuses before making their way to their carriages. Of course, various “friends” stopped them to lend their support and to capture the moment, adding their own slants to Levering’s bizarre display. However, finally they achieved their goal of the privacy of their coaches.

  “The rest of the Realm will be to supper tomorrow,” Bran declared as he assisted the Dowager Duchess into his largest coach. “You will join us,Worthing?”

  “Ella wishes to take tea with the ladies. We will come early.”

  “That would be entertaining.” Fowler laughed audibly before touching his hat in a salute to his sister. “Rest well, Eleanor.” He bowed before following Velvet and Cashé into the carriage.

  Silence blanketed the newlyweds. In their coach, Eleanor and James said nothing for several minutes. He simply took her in his arms and held Ella close, offering comfort and protection. “It is over, Sweetheart.” His voice caressed the hair by her ear, although he realized the explanation sounded too simplistic, even to him.

  “Yet, so many know of my downfall.” Sobs shook her shoulders as the truth came crashing in.

  James’s fingers stroked her temple. “They needed to hear it—the ton. Now, you will never fear the past again. It is out in the open, and any truth behind it will be buried in Sir Louis’s insanity. Yes, there will be the occasional gossip who prefers Levering’s version, but with the Prince’s attention and Queen Charlotte’s support, you, my Dear, shall rule Society. When that lone gossip beshrews your name, he will be shouted down by a dozen who will swear they were here tonight when our future King proved Louis Levering a madman and a liar.”

  “This was your plan, my Husband?” Ella drew back to where she might see him in the dull light of the carriage lantern.

  He smiled at her, the image of a squirming Levering being carried from the room turning up the line of his mouth.“I did not plan for Levering to self-destruct and to grab the Prince,” he chuckled. “But I do admit to planning to make Levering appear a fool.”

  “At my expense?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

  “It was for your liberation, Ella. Your brother and I discussed it, and we decided you should never fear being exposed to public shame again. Who is to say Levering did not tell one of his cronies, and someone might threaten you or Thornhill or Linton Park? We had to crush Levering’s hold on you, and the only way was to face it without blinking an eye. Levering knew your brother’s penchant for staring down the ton, but he ignored that well-known character flaw because greed and revenge were all he considered when he saw you.”

  “Did you read Lady Levering’s diary?” Ella demanded.

  “I told you I would not, Ella. If you want me to know specifics, you will tell me.”

  “Did Bran read it?”

  James paused briefly, trying to find the right words. “We never shared that information; however, knowing your brother, I would assume he did.Yet, does it matter, Ella? Brantley Fowler believes in his sister—in his words, he would move mountains for her. And your husband, Eleanor Kerrington, loves you beyond reason. He would be the one clearing the way to make those mountains fit into your world. Two men love you unfailingly—know your faults, but find them miniscule in comparison to the magnitude of the woman you are. How is that an unfavorable situation?”

  Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. “How can I argue against such reasoning?” Ella bit her bottom lip tentatively, considering what he said. “Did you not trust me enough to tell me all of what you had planned?”

  “I do not wish you to believe it was a matter of trust for it was most certainly not. I thought it best to protect you. If you had known, Ella, what Levering would say tonight, there is no way you would have agreed to make an appearance.” Eleanor acknowledged the truth found in his words. “You must know, Sweetheart, how much I wanted to rip out Sir Louis’s heart and serve it to my hounds for his laying his filthy hands on you; but, to free you, I swallowed that hatred and allowed the man to hang himself. I simply wanted the pleasure of running him through with a sword. The fact that the Prince now sends Levering to a penal colony was never part of my thoughts.”

  “What if Sir Louis talks while in prison?”

  “Who would listen to the man?”

  “It is not your reputation, James,” she objected.

  Worthing’s arms clasped behind her waist, nudging her to him. “I must take exception, my Dear.You are my wife, and what happens to you concerns me. However, I care not for what Levering
says. I know an Eleanor Fowler he will never know—a woman of tenderness and empathy and passion. My son respects you. My parents and my sister adore you, and I cannot breathe unless you are in my life. Without wishing to minimize your feelings, we could analyze this all evening, but nothing would change. I wanted to give you freedom to choose and beg for you to choose me, Eleanor.”

  She hesitated, picking at the invisible lint on his coat. “It was quite delightful to witness Sir Louis’s coup.” She kissed his lips briefly. “And the Prince was most kind to favor me.”

  James grumbled, “Much to my chagrin.”

  “Were you jealous, my Husband?” She accepted another brief kiss from him.

  “Is it mutinous to consider calling out one’s King for the attentions he gave my new wife?” James settled her in his arms.

  Ella snuggled into his chest. “I could become the future King’s mistress if I tire of you,” she teased.

  “That shall never happen.”

  “Your words smack of conceit, my Lord.”

  “I promised to please you.” James turned her chin so he might kiss her properly. “And if I ever fail to do so, you may freely choose his Royal Highness or any other man with my blessing.”

  “I choose James Kerrington, Viscount Worthing.” Ella nibbled on his ear as he lifted her to his lap. “I choose to be your Viscountess—your wife—the mother of your children.” She met his lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

  “Such a life with such a wife,” he mumbled as desire overtook his reason. “Even Shakespeare could not complain.”

  “What do we do about Fowler and Kerrington?” The two men clung to the shadows of the misty street corner outside of Carlton House.

  A dark line crossed one man’s face as he pulled up the long coat he wore. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Although it was midsummer in England, the dampness of the country sank deep into his bones. It was certainly nothing like his homeland—a place where a man might sleep without his clothes and still never feel the chill. “I have an idea,” he snarled. “We find what pleases them most and take that away.”