Page 54 of The Duke's Vice

Elizabeth glanced at Candace who shrugged slightly, while still keeping her eyes down.

Her mother’s maid took a deep breath. “Well, it’s like the gossip sheet said, people are talking about how two people who previously wanted nothing to do with society events are nownot only showing up with interest, but engaging with only each other.”

Beatrice started, “I engage with other people,” but Eleanor interrupted.

“There’s more, Beatrice.”

Beatrice swallowed. The only other “more” involving the Duke had to do with her list.

Oh no.

Have they been caught? Beatrice sat on the sofa next to her mother. Her mind racing with ways she can explain her actions to her mother without sending the woman to an early grave.

“Go on, Elizabeth.” Eleanor encouraged.

Elizabeth looked to Charlotte who was staring out into the distance, chewing her bottom lip.

“Someone who looked like you was seen going into the Duke’s opera box last night.”

Beatrice’s eyes widened in horror while a whimper escaped Charlotte’s lips. Charlotte wiped a stray tear from her eyes as Beatrice’s world came crashing down around her.

Her mother’s greatest fear was coming true, Beatrice was ruined. And while spinsterhood was now her only option, she did not want to achieve her dream this way. Not at this cost to her family.

“However,” Elizabeth continued. “The Duke was seen talking with a woman after the opera who also looked like you. The widow Connors, so most likely it was her. But with people speculating that there was something developing between you and him, some think it was you. However, from what we heard,” Elizabeth gestured to Candace, “a majority of people think it was the widow and you are considered an injured party since they have resumed you took an interest in him. Most agree it was the widow since her and the Duke have known each other since they were children.”

Beatrice sat in stunned silence. Her emotions ran the gamut of dread, to horror, confusion, hurt and relief.

The widow Connors? She knew of the woman, but not much. Was the Duke seeing her? Was it a problem if he was? She had no claim to him, no right to him. He was a Duke. He could do whatever he pleased.

So why did hurt overwhelm the feeling of relief that most assumed it was the widow sneaking in and out of his box? She should feel elated that their ruse of acquaintances was still viable. Yet, a strange buzzing sounded in her head while her chest felt as if it were caving in.

“Finally, she gets it.” Charlotte proclaimed.

“Beatrice?” Eleanor’s frame came in front of her, even though Beatrice’s eyes couldn’t focus on her features. She was lost to her emotions, processing the information that was just given to her.

“Beatrice? This is good news.” Eleanor said gently, as she sat next to Beatrice, taking her hand. “Most think it was the widow, and Mama mentioned that even the Duke himself said he saw you unwell and that’s why you weren’t in the box with Mama last night. People will believe his word. But this is why you must be careful.” She implored. “A simple line in a gossip sheet may seem like nothing, but it can be so much more when pieced together with other sources.”

Beatrice slowly shook her head. “I understand.” She forced the words out. She was beginning to feel nauseous.

“Candace?” Eleanor stood. “Will you see Beatrice back to her room? I think she needs some time to herself. Don’t you agree, Mama?”

Charlotte was holding the gossip sheet in her hand, her eyes now dry. “At least we have confirmation that Beatrice is the newly crowned Diamond of the Season!” She crooned.

“Mama.” Eleanor chastised. “Not now.”

Charlotte shrugged off her eldest. “I must write to Sarah!”

Eleanor returned her focus to Beatrice taking her head in her hands. “Go rest. And remember, we only want what’s best foryou.” Her eyes flickered to their mother. “Even her, in her own way. If you were really in trouble she would be the first person to come to your defense, she just gets a little carried away.”

Beatrice trusted Eleanor’s words but her heart and mind were no longer on her mother’s silly obsession with marrying her off. Instead her heart was wrapped up in the perceived relationship of the Duke and widow.

“I know, Eleanor. I think you’re right. I just need to process this situation. It seems I’m a bit more like Mama than I care to admit. I must have gotten carried away and had not realized the spectacle I was taking part in.”

Beatrice knew she said the right words, but felt nothing. She said what she needed to say in order to escape the closing walls of the parlor. She wanted the refuge of her bedroom, away from the gossip sheets, curious eyes, whispering maids, and dramatic mothers.

Beatrice sat near her window watching the rain fall. She spent the majority of her day in her room. Her mind wavered between hating the man, deciding the widow can have him, to utter despair on how she will continue on her intended journey without his help.

She berated herself for caring who the Duke was seen with and once again affirmed her relationship with the Duke must remain as a partner in crime, of sorts, not a partner in life.

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