Molly’s face was ashen. “They’s givin’ these out on the street, mum,” she explained, after handing it over.
Molly was the newest chambermaid in Mrs. Bentley’s household, and always averted her eyes when Ariana entered a room, or passed her in a hall. Somehow it was different from the way other servants displayed that they expected to be ignored. Ariana sensed fear in the girl, and supposed it was due to timidity, or perhaps from having served in a cruel household; so she tried to spare the girl’s feelings by ignoring her in turn.
Mrs. Bentley glanced quickly at the broadsheet and then threw it upon the table. “I’ve no time for gossip, now,” she scolded.
When Ariana felt it was safe enough to enter the room, Mr. Pellham greeted her warmly. “My dear, I warrant I shall be up and about before you know it. Our little outings will begin, I assure you.”
“I am happy to see you looking so well,” Ariana offered. “When you do recover, I will of course be honoured by your company on those outings, I promise you.”
A knock on the front door below was heard, but Ariana paid no attention, knowing it was probably a cart monger or some such person. Haines was well-trained in handling them. But it was not a vendor of wares. The butler judiciously led the visitors to the second parlour and announced, when he came to the door of the best one, “Mr. Mornay and Lord Horatio, ma’am, in the second parlour. Shall I bring them here?”
Both ladies were dismayed by the illustrious guests. Mrs. Bentley smiled to herself, however, interpreting the call as confirmation of his lordship’s interest in her niece. Ariana felt a strong sense of caution, but she was also curious. She would not give the slightest hint of encouragement to his lordship, lest indeed he was interested in furthering their acquaintance as her aunt suspected. She would merely be polite.
“Come, Ariana,” her aunt said. “Randolph, we shall return presently, when the gentlemen have gone.”
“Bring them here!” he admonished.
“But Randolph, you dislike my friends!”
“Have they come to see you or your niece?”
She put a hand over her heart. “I cannot say!”
“Bring them on.” His tone had the sound of a man ready to face the enemy. “I wish to see how these gadflies are treating Ariana!”
Mrs. Bentley folded her arms across her chest. “Are you determined to be civil? I cannot subject Mr. Mornay to—”
“Oh, bring them forth, Mrs. B.! I daresay your Mr. Mornou can handle an old codger like me!” He was enjoying himself. Ariana got up smilingly from the escritoire in the corner of the room, and went to sit by him on the sofa. Her aunt surveyed her.
“Your gown! Quickly! To your chamber and out of it! Out of it!”
Ariana was wearing an afternoon dress she had brought from home. It was not unbecoming, but too plain to satisfy her fastidious aunt, who had agreed to let her niece wear it only on account of there being no visitors to entertain, and to save her finer garments for needful occasions.
“To be seen in that, in front of Mornay! I won’t have it.” Mrs. Bentley was practically impelling Ariana across the floor in her rush. Ariana scooted past the second parlour, thankful the door was shut, and hurried to her chamber. Her aunt was fast on her heels, and she strode directly to the bellpull and yanked it energetically more than once. A few servants rushed in the room to be told, “Get Harrietta!” in the lady’s well-known impatient tone.
Poor Harrietta came rushing in breathless, holding onto her cap. “Yes, ma’am! ”
“Help!” Ariana’s chaperon motioned toward a dress she had selected, while she removed the long muslin over her niece’s head. “We must change Miss Forsythe speedily! We have important guests.”
She had chosen an afternoon dress of deep aubergine, sprinkled liberally with tiny flowers of white and yellow. A light-coloured spencer with puffed, banded sleeves went with it, and there was a small cherusse at the neck which framed her face quite becomingly.
“Even Mornay will have to approve,” Mrs. Bentley said, watching as Harrietta set upon her niece with vigour. “I will explain Mr. Pellham’s unfortunate accident to our guests, and bring them to the first parlour. Make haste!” And Mrs. Bentley quickly exited to do just that.
Ariana thought she could have spared the words. “You have more determined energy than my old nurse!”
“I daresay your old nurse did not have Mrs. Bentley to answer to,” was the quick reply. When the gown and spencer were on and adjusted and fastened, Harrietta scrutinized her young miss and exclaimed, “Now for the hair!”
“I put it up myself!”
“Indeed, miss, an’ it shows! You must let me fuss it up a little.”
Ariana sat down reluctantly. She felt that queer little flutter in her stomach, which Mr. Mornay’s presence always brought about. She hardly liked the man, but his presence was a bit exciting given his wide renown, not to mention her earlier encounters with him. That must be the reason, she thought, while Harrietta finished styling her hair, gingerly placing two tortoiseshell combs in advantageous positions, that her heart was beating so fast.
When she entered the parlour, the gentlemen (except for Mr. Pellham) stood politely and bowed. Ariana meant only to give a cool nod in way of greeting, but when she saw Lord Horatio’s eyes alight at her entrance, her natural good humour took over and she permitted herself to smile. Her countenance faltered when she met the dark eyes of Mr. Mornay, but she sat down calmly and let her aunt pour her a cup of tea from the tray upon the table.
“Glad you could join us, my gel,” said her aunt, as if Ariana’s presence was a surprise. Lord Horatio added, “Yes! Very glad.” Ariana gave a little smile and tried not to look again at the other gentleman, but ended up shooting a quick glance in his direction. He had said nothing, and his countenance was unreadable as usual, though his eyes were fastened upon her.
He was dressed comfortably in another fine outfit. She had barely noticed gentlemen’s clothing in the past, but when in his presence, why was it she had to take note? There was nothing loud or colourful in his dress, and yet he managed to somehow exude a presence that was downright daunting. Even Lord Horatio, whose clothing was undoubtedly costly, looked slightly askew beside his dignified friend.
Mrs. Bentley turned to her niece. “My gel, we have been discussing a matter that seems to have us all perplexed, and perhaps you may be able to shed light on the subject.”
“I?” Ariana asked, surprised.
“Miss Forsythe, without alarming you unnecessarily,” said his lordship, “we came to inform you and your aunt that Lady Covington (one of the patronesses of Almack’s, you know) has made it her mission to not only bar you from that Assembly, but to spread doubts throughout the ton about your character. Your aunt says there has been a decline in visitors, which makes it plain that Lady Covington’s scheme is working.”
“She is behind that?” Ariana gasped.
“Preposterous!” Everyone looked in surprise at Mr. Pellham. He had spoken out of loyalty, forgetting for the moment his wish to remain aloof from the company. Mrs. Bentley had warned her guests that he was a dear old friend, but a noted eccentric, and not to expect any conversation from him. Mr. Pellham seemed quite as surprised by his sudden contribution as the rest of the occupants of the room, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Indeed,” said his lordship, after a moment of uncertainty as to whether to respond or not. “To be plain about it, Miss Forsythe, the countess has used Mr. Mornay’s name to cast a dreadful slur upon yours.”
“Upon my word!” Mrs. Bentley’s hand flew to her heart.
Ariana was looking in perplexity at the men. “What sort of a slur, my lord?”
Mr. Mornay chose that moment to enter the conversation.
“She claims that you have…favoured me with certain of your charms, which, let us say, would cause the sturdiest reputation to topple. In addition, she maintains that you cherish the illusion the impropriety will force an event.” He eyed her
keenly.
Mr. Pellham cleared his throat loudly, barely managing to contain his displeasure. He searched for his cane and would have banged it upon the floor, only it was at home, since he had used footmen for his support, not the walking stick. Ariana nodded at the sympathy and outrage she saw in his eyes, correctly interpreting his expression. Mr. Mornay refused to even look in his direction though Lord Horatio gave him an uncomfortable glance before returning his gaze to Ariana, who had gone pale.
“An event!” She knew what an “event” referred to: marriage. “Between us?”
When he nodded, her paleness gave way to a ridiculous embarrassment that sent a crimson streak across her cheeks. Then, as it all sank in on her, it became hurtful. That anyone should foster such lies about her! In moments, she was blinking back tears, feeling a terrible sense of injustice. Nothing she had done deserved so nasty an attack by a fellow human being. Ariana looked in agitation to her aunt, her own hand rushing to her breast as if to calm herself. Her aunt was regarding her with an equally agonized expression.
“My gel; I am beyond words! I cannot account for this animosity!”
Ariana forced herself to think clearly; she must remain calm. A glance at Mr. Mornay sent a fresh wave of humiliation over her, and her cheeks burned brighter than ever.
“So this is what everyone now believes of me?” She kept her eyes averted, too mortified to do else. Lord Horatio frowned and shifted in his seat. Ariana hated to think of what Mr. Mornay must have thought when he first heard the falsehood. Oh, it was too unbearable!
“Not everyone,” he said just then, to her utter relief. “But the mere scent of a scandal around a young woman’s name in society is rather like having the plague; they won’t come near you until they know of a certainty that you are safe.”
Mrs. Bentley was now holding a handkerchief to her mouth as if she might moan audibly. Everything had been going so perfectly… until this!
Mr. Mornay was studying Ariana’s reaction. Suddenly he said, “As to the charges, which are nearly as much against me as you, I was convinced they were not your claims, Miss Forsythe, or I would not have come to your drawing room, believe me. Since the countess has abused my name in her scheme, however, I find it is beyond my powers of self-restraint to stay aloof from the situation. For this reason, you will have me as your ally in the matter.”
“Humph!” murmured Mr. Pellham, in what was actually a sound of approval. He had forgotten, once again, that he would be heard by everyone else and looked around apologetically.
“You are a godsend, Mr. Mornay!” Mrs. Bentley felt remarkably revived. Having the Paragon on their side changed everything.
Ariana’s defeated expression lifted enough so that her eyes glittered gratefully across the room at him. As could happen at times, they were suddenly sparkling gold, like jewels in her face, he thought; lively, intelligent jewels that were focused on him in evident gratitude.
“I am much obliged to you,” she said simply.
He nodded.
“Is there any reason you know of, Miss Forsythe, why the countess would single you out like this?” Lord Horatio looked intently at her.
“Think, Ariana! I have never been in love with Lady Covington, but I maintain we have never quarreled, either. I am severely provoked by this, most severely!” Mrs. Bentley gave her niece an exasperated stare. “It is exceedingly good of these gentlemen to come to our aid. We must give them some explanation, and you alone, I daresay, must know it. No one else does.”
There was silence while Ariana decided how to reply. She folded her hands upon her lap and said, “I think I am able to supply a reason.” She looked about apologetically. “It is really quite simple; astonishingly so!” All eyes in the room were fastened upon her and not a sound was heard. She looked up, facing the circle of inquisitors and confessed. “At Mr. Mornay’s estate I walked into the countess, awkwardly, but not intentionally. I apologized immediately but she was not mollified in the least, I am afraid.”
Lord Horatio had been leaning forward in his seat but at her words he sat back with a plop. “Is that all? That’s preposterous!”
Ariana’s eyes stayed far from the face of Mr. Mornay, for she had also collided into him on the very same day and had no doubt but that he was thinking of it.
“How on earth, Ariana! However could you do such a thing? What were you about?”
Ariana shut her eyes for a moment, knowing exactly what she had been about, and she flushed pink afresh at the memory. She had been staring, transfixed, at the peculiarly arresting gaze of the man across the room, as they both very well knew. She said nothing, therefore, but her gaze came up to peek at his face, and something in those inscrutable dark eyes made her think that he absolutely remembered: he had witnessed the whole thing.
“Ariana? Well?”
She answered falteringly. “I was—I think—that is, I failed to see her coming. I believe it was entirely my fault.”
“Obviously.” Mrs. Bentley’s eyebrows had risen exceedingly, and her tone was dry. “But what were you occupied with?” How annoying of her aunt to ask her again! Ariana glanced once more at the man watching her and thought that his silent expression now held a lively interest in the proceedings which did little to help her state of mind. Odious man! What could she say?
“Does it signify, Aunt? The thing is I offended Lady Covington and I did not cower at her feet afterward as she would have liked.”
“Ariana!” Mrs. Bentley glanced nervously at the gentlemen. But his lordship let out a delighted laugh and even Mr. Mornay’s stern features cracked into a smile. Mr. Pellham could not allow the moment to pass him by in silence, so he again cleared his throat loudly in support of Ariana.
“Ma,am, I do think Miss Forsythe has the right of it, indeed.” Lord Horatio came to her defense. On his account only, Mrs. Bentley refrained from firing a riposte at her ungenteel niece.
“There is only one thing to do, and that is to gain an audience with her ladyship so Ariana may apologize prettily; publicly, so that her ladyship’s sensibilities will be satisfied.” Mrs. Bentley looked to the two men for approval of her scheme, but they looked doubtful.
“I daresay going public would be a great risk,” ventured Lord Horatio. “Lady Covington could hardly pass up the opportunity to finish what she has begun, which is to ruin a young lady’s reputation.”
“Is she so cruel?” Ariana’s eyes were large in her face.
His lordship’s head bobbed vigorously. “The countess is a lady she-devil, if you will pardon the expression.”
“But she must respect me!” interjected Mrs. Bentley. “The other patronesses have promised us vouchers. Will she not show some kindness to my niece for my sake?”
Mr. Mornay gave the answer. “She delights in…shall we say, vendettas. And it would indeed give her great pleasure if you go crawling to her for help, particularly in public.” A moment’s tense silence passed, and he added, “But I hasten to add it would have no effect upon the rumour regarding Miss Forsythe and myself. Were the countess to forgive you wholeheartedly, it would make little difference, for the seed of doubt she planted has been growing in the minds of people.”
“Perhaps if we see her privately?” Mrs. Bentley’s tone revealed she had little confidence in the suggestion.
“I would not recommend it.” He spoke lightly but with such utter weight to his words that Ariana’s aunt knew she was defeated and threw up her hands.
“Then what shall we do, Mr. Mornay? I beg you to find some answer for us!”
Another silence descended, and all eyes turned to the Paragon. His reputation forbade him to do anything for anybody except himself, but he had helped Ariana down from the tree and protected her from humiliation. She still suspected that he had indeed allowed Lady Sherwood to win at cards in order to do them some good. She watched him now, certain that if anyone could refute the falsehoods, it would have to be he.
Mr. Mornay met Ariana’s gaze, and then looked to her au
nt. “It would not do for me to simply deny Lady Covington’s accusations. Society would humour me, perhaps, but not believe me, and Miss Forsythe would remain in social disgrace. Likewise, if Miss Forsythe simply denies them, no one will believe her.”
A sense of frustration settled over Ariana. It seemed there was nothing she could do to help her situation. He cleared his throat.
“I am forming the opinion as we speak that only a drastic action will answer.” The company waited breathlessly to hear what the “drastic action” would be. Mr. Mornay did not keep them waiting long.
“Lady Covington is depending upon me to behave in my usual cavalier manner, and to keep my distance from your niece. Indeed, under normal circumstances that is precisely how things should have turned out, for it is simply my style. Naturally that would not be taken as a reflection of her character, but only of mine. In light of the countess’s accusations, my attitude toward your niece will decide all. It goes without saying I would publicly avoid her at all costs if the charges were true. Therefore, my usual manner of conduct would be taken, regarding Miss Forsythe, as a confirmation of the allegations.”
Every word the Paragon spoke increased Ariana’s feeling of helplessness. The thought came to her, however, to ask for Divine help. She could pray, at least. Silently she began to pray from her heart: Father God, even Mr. Mornay cannot decide my fate—only You can! Send me the help I need. Clear my name!
She had not prayed eloquently or gratefully, but out of desperation. And yet, the next moment she heard Mr. Mornay saying words she knew came in response to that prayer.
“The only answer which will serve is to convince society that I have determined to court Miss Forsythe. If they believe she has been foolish enough to set her cap at me then they must be made to believe I return the sentiment. If I am seen to behave in a proper manner toward her, no one shall entertain the notion of an impropriety. No man of my position would court a woman he has already abused.”
Before the Season Ends Page 11