Simply Scandalous (26 page)

Lady Elkins passed from bewilderment to indignation to dizziness, and the coachman was obliged to
turn the barouche around and carry them all home
again. Though wounded, Lady Elkins left cards at Silvercombe, so they waited at home every morning
for three days afterward for the Silvercombe ladies to
return the call, but they did not so much as send
cards. Lady Elkins was mortified. Never in her life had
she been treated so shabbily, and for days, she spoke
of nothing else.

Cynthia was relieved. "It is well you did not agree
to marry Lord Swale," she whispered to her cousin, "if his sister is so haughty. She would have crushed us
with her contempt."

Juliet, who had rather the opposite thought, did not
reply.

If the Silvercombe ladies had considered themselves above all company in the neighborhood, Lady
Elkins might not have felt the slight so keenly. But Lady
Maria and Lady Serena were not shy in receiving
other visitors. They even made several well-publicized
trips into the village to the delight of the local ladies.

And everywhere their ladyships went, wherever
possible, they cut Miss Wayborn and made glad the
ears of the neighborhood gossips with tales of her exploits in London and Hertfordshire. To Mrs. Wyndham, they expressed astonishment that Sir Benedict
permitted his sad romp of a sister to move at all in Society, and Sir George Brabant was warned against
letting his daughters visit the notorious Miss Whip, lest
their own reputations be tarred. In church, their ladyships occupied the Skeldings's pew, which stood opposite the Wayborns', but they never looked in that
direction. With the utmost civility, Colonel Fitzwilliam
would speak to Sir Benedict after the services, and
Lord Redfylde, when he was in the neighborhood on
a Sunday, which was not often, would gravely nod his
fair head, but the ladies refused to acknowledge the
very existence of their female neighbors.

It was not long before the women in the neighborhood, overawed by the fine London ladies at Silvercombe, began to follow their lead. Juliet accepted
her own disgrace with little more than prickly irritation, but the slights dealt to her aunt and her cousin
were insupportable. She was indeed the notorious
Miss Whip and was perhaps deserving of contempt, but Lady Elkins and Cynthia had done nothing to
deserve such cruelty.

"I daresay they think you should lock me up in
the attics and not even permit me to attend religious
services! " she remarked to her brother as they left the
village church. Cynthia and Lady Elkins had taken Sir
Benedict's barouche back to Wayborn Hall, but Juliet
and her brother always walked home in fine weather,
cutting through the meadow to take the path along
the lake. "I might think they had come to Surrey
with no other object than to ruin me in my own
county!" she added bitterly. It filled her with indignation to see people who had known her all her life
and who liked her, now pretending not to see her,
huddling their children away from her, and whispering about her behind their hands.

Benedict was plainly so aggrieved that she felt
obliged to make a light remark. "At least my disgrace
keeps you safe from Lady Serena," she teased him. "I
had feared she might wish to be mistress of Wayborn
Hall. I daresay it would amuse her to flirt with you
after breaking poor Cary's heart." At least, she thought
viciously, until she receives a farm offer from Swale.

"I doubt Wayborn Hall is enough to tempt Lady
Serena," Benedict said dryly. "And I am not at all the
sort of friend she would like. I think I am safe from
her indeed, my dear."

"She liked Mr. Devize very well until she saw Castle
Devize in Suffolk, not at all a modern place, I think.
She dropped poor Mr. Devize like a hot potato, I
can tell you, and began to pursue our brother. As for
her brief interest in Cary, I can only believe that
someone exaggerated the importance of the Tanglewood estate."

"Hot potato?" Benedict sighed. "Did you learn that
vulgar expression from Bernard?"

"No-Cary," she replied. "But very likely, he learned
it from Bernard. It answers the situation very nicely,
I think, though I have never actually handled a hot
potato. After my disgrace, her ladyship wanted no
more to do with Cary or me. I hope-I hope he
doesn't blame me. Her affection could not have been
sincere in any case. And now, if the rumors are true,
Lord Swale is pursuing her. Won't they make a charming couple? Her beauty and his money?"

Benedict shuddered. "She is to be pitied, I think.
Lord Redfylde is unlikely to advise against the match,
and without his lordship's consequence behind her,
she may well capitulate."

"I think Swale is more to be pitied," said Juliet.
"She has a pretty face but a cold heart. How you can
take her part when she has snubbed your aunt and
worked so much mischief against your only sister, I
shall never understand. I knew I should have difficulty
in London, but in my own county, with my own
people-! Mrs. Oliphant has invited my aunt and
my cousin to a card party on Wednesday, but Miss
Juliet, you know, need not trouble to come!"

Benedict sighed.

"And poor Cynthia! There is nothing for it, Benedict. As sorry as I am to see her go, Cynthia can no
longer stay here. Every day, she joins in my disgrace.
She says it does not matter; she will not play cards at
Mrs. Oliphant's, but it can't be pleasant for her. She
must go home unless ... unless you wish to make her
a tenant for life and mistress of Wayborn Hall?"

She gave his arm an encouraging squeeze, but
Benedict agreed, with less reluctance than Juliet
liked, to write to Dr. Cary at once. "Oh, Benedict! " she rebuked him. "She'll be going to London next Season,
and very likely, she will marry someone else if you do
not ask for her soon."

"I am thirty-six years of age," he told her irritably.
"Miss Cary is a child of seventeen. It would be ridiculous, not to say repugnant, for me to form any serious design on a mere child."

"Gammon! What does age matter if you love her?"

"I have the greatest respect for Miss Cary," said
her brother with maddening sangfroid. "She seems
a very good little person. She is very pretty. She does
not distress her family by racing across the country
with strange gentlemen. I don't underrate her value,
I assure you. But if I love her, Juliet, it is only in the
fertile territory of your imagination." And he laughed
at her expression of bitter disappointment. "I am
equally certain that Miss Gary's affection for me is
made of much the same stuff. Do not matchmake for
me, sister. You would not like me to choose your husband for you."

"No," she admitted. "You would choose someone
very dull indeed."

The following week, in response to Benedict's
letter, Horatio arrived at Wayborn Hall driving a very
smart new barouche pulled by a beautiful pair of
bays. Lady Elkins was overjoyed to receive him and was
excessively sorry that he did not mean to stay. There
was nothing she would have liked better than to be
driven about town by the handsome Captain in his
new barouche. Juliet, of course, would sit beside Horatio on the barouche box, and Mrs. Oliphant and the
Brabant girls would gnash their teeth with envy.

Alas, it was not to be. He meant to leave that very afternoon for he had pressing business in London.
However, since Horatio's rapid advancement in the
Royal Navy had been largely due to Lord Redfylde's
influence, he naturally felt it was his first duty to call
at Silvercombe. "Though for your sake, Juliet, I take
no pleasure in it," he told his cousin apologetically.

Juliet tried not to show her disappointment, but she
felt that again the Silvercombe ladies had triumphed
over her. She had hoped that since Lord Redfylde
himself was not at home, Horatio might escape the
obligation, but it was impossible. Not even the reports
of Lady Serena's coldness to his sister could deter him.
"I do not say it is a pleasant duty, Cousin Juliet, but
it is nonetheless a duty. I daresay her ladyship will receive Miss Cary with every indication of pleasure
when I present her."

"Oh no!" Cynthia cried in dismay. "I could not go
to Silvercombe, Horatio. Lady Serena and Lady Maria
have been monstrous cruel to Juliet and to Lady
Elkins too! I will not set foot in any house where my
cousin isn't welcome."

Horatio insisted. "You must consider your brother,
Cynthia, and you must consider yourself. Juliet will not
feel you have betrayed her simply by paying a morning
call to your neighbors. Your first loyalty must be to your
brother. And I need hardly add, you will not do yourself
any good by making enemies of their ladyships."

But it was only after Juliet urged her to go that Cynthia consented.

The duty visit was accomplished before luncheon,
and Juliet received a full report from her pretty
cousin during the meal that was to be Cynthia's last
at Wayborn Hall. Not only had Lady Serena received
Miss Cary with every appearance of delight, but Lady
Maria Fitzwilliam had also been everything kind. "She asked me to take a turn in the garden with her,
and we walked arm in arm while Horatio waited on
Lady Serena. Her ladyship is not at all haughty, Juliet.
She said I was a dear, sweet girl and that if I should
go to London, I should be a great success and she
would help me."

"And how did you like Lady Serena?"Juliet asked
slowly.

"If anything, she was even more kind to me than
Lady Maria. She privately told me she hoped to be
married soon and to have the nicest sister in the
whole world. She must really mean to marry Lord
Swale and be Lady Maria's sister! Oh, Juliet!" she
fretted. "Do you think I ought to have warned her ladyship about Lord Swale? I am convinced no one
could be happy married to him."

"I don't think happiness will be Serena's chief
reason for marrying Swale,"Juliet said dryly. "And so,"
she went on, "you are persuaded that all good society will be opened to you if you will only deny your
scandalous cousin Miss Wayborn."

"Oh no," Cynthia cried in dismay, but there was a
guilty shyness in her eyes.

"I daresay Lady Maria has promised to obtain
vouchers to Almack's for you when you go to London
next year, and Lady Serena to take you for drives in
her pony phaeton."

Cynthia's lower lip began to tremble so violently that
Juliet relented and hugged the girl. "Never mind! I
am not in the least angry. The truth is they will be of
greater assistance to you in Society than ever I could
be. And as I shall not be in London next year, you
need never have to choose between them and me."

"Horatio is convinced your disgrace will be
forgotten by next year," said Cynthia, her smile charged with meaning. "I think you will be in London
next year if my brother has anything to say about it,
my dear Juliet And next year, I hope, you will be more
to me than a cousin, and much closer too!"

Upon taking the hint, Juliet was seized with blind
panic and a sneaking guilt. She could not deny that
she had given Horatio a great deal of encouragement since his return to England. In those first weeks,
she had liked him very well indeed and had even cherished a hope of marrying him one day. When had her
feelings begun to change? It was not difficult for her
to know exactly-it was the moment he had rebuked
her for setting Swale's carrots on fire. A quiet word
at a later time would not have been amiss, she felt, but
he had publicly taken the enemy's part over hers.
Even after the enemy had ceased to be an enemy, she
had nursed a secret resentment against her handsome
cousin, and in the week following the injury to her
leg, when Horatio had been at his most attentive, she
had formed the opinion that they would not suit
after all. Her cousin had a tendency to correct her that
she had not noticed before and that reminded her unpleasantly of Benedict. She certainly did not require
a husband who criticized her as freely and severely as
her own elder brother!

But had she given him as much discouragement since
the change in her feelings as she had given him encouragement before? She had tried by spurning his
efforts to induce her to read this book over that to
show him that he was no more her idol, but she
feared he had merely thought her irritable because
of her injury. A proposal now would force her to be
more plain and lay her open to a rebuke that, she felt,
she must justly deserve for awakening his hopes.

When Horatio asked to take his leave of Juliet in private, there could be no mistaking his intentions,
but despite her niece's frantic and surreptitious signals, Lady Elkins cheerfully agreed. Avery faint and
unhappy Aunt Elinor had been carried out onto the
terrace to recover from her disappointment at not
being taken for a ride in Captain Gary's barouche, but
she happily returned to the house quite under her
own power, leaving Juliet no choice but to hear Horatio's proposal.

"My dear Juliet," he began, "I have been separated
from you too much, and here I am taking leave of you
again. I wish-"

"Indeed, it must be Fate keeping us apart," Juliet said
quickly and emphatically.

Horatio did not take the hint. "I do not believe in
fate," he replied, seizing her hands. "I believe it is up
to us to order and arrange our lives in such a way as
to secure our future happiness. To secure my future
happiness, I would make a life with you. In this new
life, I would never again take leave of you. I know my
happiness would be safe with you, and I believe, dearest, loveliest Juliet, that I could make you happy too.
Will you consent to be my wife?"

Juliet bit her lip. Anything she said would be certain to cause him pain. He clearly had no inkling she
meant to refuse him, and that too was her fault.

"Do not answer me now," he quickly begged. "Do
me the honor of considering my proposal with the
same sober thoroughness with which I decided to
make it. I am leaving now to bring Cynthia back to my
mother, but I will return in three days. Dear Juliet, may
I have your answer then?"