But Pierce! Pierce? What reason would he have had to hurt Rome?
When he’d confronted her in the kitchen at Summers Park, if anything, he’d appeared to care for his employer a great deal. His warning to her had been borne out of what seemed like an unusual possessiveness.
Was it possible that he was the one with unusual inclinations?
Is it possible that he is in love with Rome?
He’d been adamant in his warning to Rose. The man had not wanted to share his employer with anyone, least of all a woman. And when had the rumors first surfaced? Shortly after Rome’s engagement to Lady Eliza.
Was it possible that Mr. Pierce had felt so threatened that he’d began telling lies?
But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was that the rumor be disputed.
Think, Rose, think. There has to be something I can do.
Of course, she could do nothing hiding inside of a closet, feeling sorry for herself.
Perhaps there was something she could say. Rome had most certainly provided her with irrefutable proof. Was it possible…?
She snatched one of the napkins from the shelf, wiped at her eyes, and after coming to a decision, inhaled deeply.
She could change everything with a single visit below stairs.
She hoped.
If she could count on nothing else from the servants she had known, it was their propensity to gossip, their excitement to share the next meaty tidbit of scandal.
She prayed they would not fail her in this.
She stepped soundlessly in her silk slippers as she went in search of the servants’ dining room. This part of her plan posed no difficulty. She merely followed the sound of the clinking silverware onto dishes and the hum of conversation. Urgency spurred her forward.
She could not take the time to reconsider her actions. It was now or never.
As she rounded a corner, the dining hall came into sight. She stepped backward so as not to be seen. Her timing was good, not a single place at the table was vacant.
Taking a moment to prepare herself, she smoothed her gown, ignoring the tear where her skirt met her bodice, and then lifted her chin. She would set matters straight for Rome, once and for all.
Summoning all of the confidence she’d known earlier, not allowing herself to think twice, she strode along the short remaining distance in the hallway and stepped boldly into the crowded room.
Nerves nearly sent her bolting, but she would be courageous for once.
Unfamiliar servants sat eating, talking, and laughing at a long wooden table, the benches on both sides crowded. Large dishes of food were placed all down the middle, half-empty plates strewn about.
To her right, she recognized the voices of the men from outside the closet. Not satisfied to keep such information to themselves, they were sharing it with two of the maids.
“You lost, miss?” an older man called out from across the table, at last drawing everyone’s attention to her appearance. In an instant, the room fell silent.
This was what she wanted. She wanted them to be fascinated with who she was and what she had to say. She had been a guest. She wore a beautiful gown. They would listen to her. They have to!
“I am not lost.” She leveled her eyes at the two men to her right. She took a deep breath and then spoke with all the conviction she felt. “You are wrong about Viscount Darlington. His valet lies.”
She had their rapt attention. “How would you know?” one of them piped up.
“You say that Mr. Pierce told you?” she countered with a lift of her chin. “He told you that Lord Darlington had unnatural inclinations?”
“Said he was a Molly!” The other man nodded.
“He lies!”
Tension mounted in the room as each of them seemed to study her and contemplate her assertion.
One of the older ladies, likely a cook, spoke up. “And how would you know such a thing?
Rose leveled her gaze on as many of them as she could. This was her moment. There would be no turning back after this. “Because I have been with him.”
Nothing.
“In the biblical way.” She pushed out her bosoms. “And trust me. A lady would know if he was not an enthusiastic… participant.”
Brows lifted all around and some nodded knowingly. “Why’d the valet make something like that up, then?”
She didn’t know the answer to that question. She had suspicions but could not be sure. All she knew was that Rome needed her to be convincing. His very life might depend upon it.
“No one knows why people do vile things, but I know for certain Viscount Darlington is no Molly. You can trust me on that.” And then she put the final nail in her coffin. “Such an appendage as I’ve never seen. Nor have I known a gentleman so capable of… dare I say… pleasing a lady?”
Several eyebrows rose and a few of the younger maids giggled until they were silenced by the appearance of an imposing woman. Likely the housekeeper, the late arrival stood frowning in the doorway, her hands on very generous hips.
“You’re that girl, the one from upstairs. The imposter.” She nodded at the two men from the hallway. “Remove her from the property at once.”
Rose didn’t care that she was about to be ousted like a common criminal, but the sight of her being hauled might discredit her claim. It was vital that they believe her. With as much dignity as she could muster, Rose tried to shake off her captors and held her head high. “I’ll go on my own, thank you.”
They ignored her assertion and gripped her arms painfully.
Her days in London were over.
“What you did was illegal, impersonating someone you are not.” The woman’s voice echoed from behind her. She obviously had no sympathy for another servant who didn’t know her place.
Rose had not been impersonating another person, though. She had reclaimed her own identity. And she had not lied. Hopefully, her words would put an end to the rumor. Hopefully, she could do this one thing for him.
Because in protecting him, she’d lost him forever.
Not that she’d ever had him. He’d been a lovely dream.
The shorter of the two men released her and opened a door that faced the mews. As the stench from a nearby wheelbarrow loaded with discarded food and rubbish filled her nostrils, other ramifications of the night nagged at her.
She could not remain with Margaret. Nor could she return to Penelope.
“Just because you lay down with a nob don’t mean you’re any better ‘an the rest of us.” The man who’d been dragging her along whipped her out the door, sending her sprawling onto all fours for the second time that night.
This time, she landed in mud, filth, and likely, shite as well. She ducked her head and at the sight of her dress, decided that its condition was likely now the only thing more tarnished than her reputation. But she would not regret what she’d done.
She pushed herself to her feet experiencing a strange sort of calm. She’d fall into despair later. Tomorrow she would mourn the loss of the promises that had been ripped away, but for tonight, she would do what she must.
She’d fallen out of hope, out of favor, and hopefully someday, she’d fall out of love.
Wishful thinking on her part. He’d hold her heart forever. She’d love him until her dying breath.
A cool breeze pressed her gown against her legs. Grateful for the cover of darkness, she headed back to Margaret’s townhouse so that she might collect a few of her belongings and return the pearls.
If there was any justice in this world, Rome’s life was no longer at risk. With far more satisfaction than she could have thought possible, she marched into the darkness alone.
Rome knew the instant he returned with the lemonade that something either shocking or outrageous had occurred. Excited murmurs had replaced what had been a relaxed hum of conversation when he’d stepped away.
Which couple had done something ridiculously inappropriate, he wondered? Or had one of the new debutantes erred on the danc
e floor? Glancing around, an awareness pricked the back of his neck.
People were staring at him now, trying to be subversive in their curiosity but failing miserably.
He searched the room again. Neither Rose nor Margaret were standing where he’d left them. The Willoughbys were absent as well.
“Your dear Miss Waring has been exposed.”
Rome turned to verify that the voice beside him, did, in fact, belong to the Duke of Monfort.
“My duchess recognized her in the park yesterday but hasn’t said a word to anyone. It was her blasted aunt, Riverton’s wife.”
Rome didn’t know Monfort very well, only having met him at one of his father’s house parties and at a few ton events. Little over a year ago, in fact, the duke had ruined Penelope’s cousin at Raven’s Park. He’d then shocked them all by marrying the chit and, most surprising of all, the marriage appeared to be a love match.
“Which way?” Rome asked, eager to find her.
“Lord and Lady Willoughby are meeting with Asherton’s widow and the baroness in Willoughby’s study. It’s possible she’s with them now.” The duke jerked his chin toward Rome’s left. At the same time, Natalie appeared at his side.
“Oh, Rome! This is horrible. You must go after Miss Waring! You must find her!” His sister looked as though she would burst into tears, but he didn’t have time to comfort her.
“Find your husband, Nat. And spread the word that the baroness is wrong. Rose was born a gentleman’s daughter, the only time she’s ever impersonated anyone was when she pretended to be a maid.”
Natalie nodded and Rome felt some comfort when Lord Hawthorne arrived at her side.
Rome then excused himself and headed in the direction Monfort had indicated.
There was no time to waste. If Rose wasn’t with Lady Asherton… He dare not imagine other possible scenarios.
“My lord!” Lady Asherton looked as though she could use some reinforcements when he stepped into the room.
“Is she not here?” Rome’s gaze flicked around the masculine abode to answer the question for himself. “Where is Miss Waring?”
“The servants are searching for her,” Lady Willoughby interrupted him. “Likely the poor girl is hiding in one of the retiring rooms. Please sit down, My Lord. They’ll bring her to us shortly, I’m certain.”
“Rosie never did know her place.” The baroness added.
She and Lady Riverton sat together on a richly upholstered settee, while Lady Asherton paced the carpet near a large hearth. Lord Willoughby had seated himself at his desk, looking more than a little annoyed.
“She is Miss Waring and she was raised to be a gentle woman,” Rome stated in no uncertain tones, pinning his gaze on the crone who’d gone out of her way to hurt the woman he loved.
Lady Riverton shrugged. “She’s my daughter’s maid, and for her to show up here, like this, is presumptuous beyond comprehension. I simply assumed her to be an imposter. How was I to know that she was acting as Lady Asherton’s companion? If my daughter only saw fit to inform me of her decisions on occasion, I’d not be put in these positions.”
Rome scrubbed a hand down his face. “She is not an imposter,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, but it was horrible, My Lord. And this is all my fault.” Lady Asherton dabbed at one eye with the handkerchief clutched in her hand. “Rose panicked… and she’d been having such a lovely time.”
If they didn’t locate her within the next few minutes, it was likely she’d fled from the house.
A knock at the door drew their attention just as Rome moved to go in search of her himself.
“Enter,” Willoughby commanded.
Willoughby’s butler walked across the room and leaned forward to whisper something only the elderly earl would hear.
“Well, send her in, Thompkins. What are you waiting for? If she says she knows something, then we must speak with her directly.”
“I’m so very sorry, Catherine, for making such a fuss.” Lady Riverton waved a fan in front of her face. “It’s just that when I saw my daughter’s maid, wearing pearls, for heaven’s sake, I simply could not abide such a deception. And that horrible fuss she made, throwing herself onto the floor like that.”
“She tripped on her dress.” Lady Asherton sent a scowl in the baroness’ direction.
Lady Riverton pinched her lips together and shrugged. If she were a man, Rome didn’t think he could keep himself from strangling her.
“Was she hurt?” At the image of Rose running alone through the dark streets, injured… Rome swallowed hard. Why hadn’t she waited for him?
“Her pride suffered, more than anything else, I believe.” Lady Asherton looked near tears. “Oh, why did I suggest this?”
Rome shook his head. “What matters most now is that we find her.”
“Excuse me,” A young woman, one of the kitchen maids, if Rome were to guess, stood in the doorway now, clutching her hands nervously.
“Tell them what you told me, Mavis.” Willoughby’s manservant urged the uniformed woman inside.
“The lady, the one which is really a maid. She came down to the servants’ quarters. She told us all somethin’.” She glanced toward Darlington with wide eyes. “And then Mrs. Lester had her removed.”
“Had her removed? Where did she have her removed to?” asked an outraged Lady Willoughby.
“Off the property, M’lady. It was before we knew you wanted her upstairs.”
“What did Miss Waring say to you and the other servants?” Lord Willoughby pressed.
Again, the young woman glanced in Rome’s direction.
But it was Thompkins who answered. “She informed them that a circulating rumor was patently untrue. A circulating rumor concerning the viscount, here.” He jerked his head toward Rome.
She couldn’t have! Rome’s heart dropped into his shoes. No, Rose! No!
“And how would she know anything about that?” Willoughby asked, looking more intrigued than he had all night.
“She said she knew it to be untrue because she said she’d been with Viscount Darlington, My Lord.” Thompkins covered his mouth with his fist and cleared his throat, glancing sheepishly toward the ladies. “Forgive me. She said that she’d been with the viscount in the Biblical way, that is.”
Lady Willoughby went quite pale.
Lady Riverton smiled smugly.
Lady Asherton fainted.
Chapter 27
Dear Lord Darlington
“Why would she do something like that?” Lord Willoughby asked no one in particular, bushy grey eyebrows raised.
“Isn’t it obvious? She’s a flooz—” Before the baroness could complete her statement, Rome cut her words short with a bruising glance. The maid who’d come forward with the information had been sent for smelling salts and a cool cloth for Lady Asherton, who’s fall had luckily been cushioned by the settee she’d dropped onto.
Lady Willoughby sat beside her, waving a handkerchief in the widow’s face.
Rome pressed a fist into his forehead. He knew why Rose had done it. She’d heard someone discussing the blasted rumor. She’d done it for him. After having her status questioned in the ballroom, she’d assumed she had nothing to lose.
“If no one has need of me, then…” Lady Riverton edged toward the door. “I’ll return to the ballroom.” Likely she couldn’t wait to share all the tidbits she’d gleaned during the course of this private meeting.
“It’s best you don’t return to the ballroom.” Lord Willoughby halted her. “Since the baron didn’t attend with you this evening, Thompkins can have your carriage brought around.”
Lady Riverton frowned petulantly at the earl’s dismissal, but at last, showed an ounce of intelligence by not arguing with him.
Lady Willoughby assisted Lady Asherton into a sitting position just as yet another knock sounded.
“Enter!” Willoughby shouted, looking irritable again.
This time Rome almost felt some relief
to see the new arrivals: Hawthorne and Natalie. Unfortunately, they didn’t bring any real news. They merely confirmed that despite a thorough search of the premises, Rose was nowhere to be found.
“She’s at home, more than likely,” Lady Asherton, blinking in wonder, shook off her weakened state. “I must go to her. I cannot imagine how distraught she must be.”
“Is it true?” Natalie stared hard at Rome. “How could you?”
The accusation in her eyes revealed that Rose’s announcement had already spread upstairs to the guests.
“She’s my betrothed.” It was the best he could do at this point. And it would be true. As soon as he located her.
His sister gasped but Lady Asherton slid a skeptical sideways glance in his direction.
“We haven’t time for this now, Nat. Lady Asherton and I must assure ourselves that Rose—that Miss Waring—has made it home safe.” He assisted the widow to her feet and was glad when she did not resist. He couldn’t wait here any longer. He should have gone searching for Rose as soon as he’d heard that she fled.
“I apologize for disrupting your ball, My Lady, My Lord,” Lady Asherton offered over her shoulder as Rome led her to the door. “It was my fault. Miss Waring did nothing wrong.”
“Harrumph,” Willoughby grumbled from his desk.
“Send a missive ‘round to let us know she’s safe,” Natalie called out, clutching her husband’s arm, looking as distraught as ever.
Rome wanted to rail at his sister and Lady Asherton for convincing Rose that the charade had been necessary, but that would serve no purpose now. And if he’d truly thought there was any real danger, he could have put his foot down from the outset.
As they stood outside waiting for his carriage to come ‘round, Rome couldn’t stand still a moment longer.
“I have to go to her.” He touched Lady Asherton’s sleeve.
She turned and nodded, seeming to understand his urgency. “I’ll meet you there.”
It was all the convincing he needed to take off on foot.
Just as she had done.
Lady Be Good: Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 5 Page 25