Page 25 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
“Fairfax, really! Don’t be ridiculous. It says right here—” she picked up the gossip sheet again “—that Mr. Beckford, ‘who gallantly came to the rescue of the fallen lady, if one can still call her a lady—’” Her mother paused and patted Freddy’s hand. “They wrote that, dear. I am not saying that of you. Of course, your father and I don’t believe you are not still a lady. I raised you better than that, didn’t I?”
Freddy scowled. It was vastly unfair that she had been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion as a light-skirt based on the claims of one deceitful man, and that Beckford was being called gallant, though he was thought to have been the partner in her scandalous behavior.
“Frederica!”
Her mother’s wail brought Freddy’s attention back to her. “Yes,” Freddy said, “I’m no light-skirt.” A searing memory of Beckford’s lips on hers gripped her. His hands on hers. His smell on her. She’d been raised to act like a lady, but she’d most assuredly, in the eyes of theton, her mother, likely everyone, acted like a light-skirt by letting Beckford kiss her in his carriage. By wanting him to do far more than that. It had not seemed wrong. It had seemed natural and, frankly, fair that she should take her pleasure where she found it, just as a man did. Men didn’t require marriage or love for pleasure, so why must she? Why were men not labeledlight-pantsfor such behavior, but women had to live by different, unfair, and very restrictive rules?
Her mother tapped on the gossip sheet. “It says right here, the very first paragraph of the gossip sheet where your reputation is brought into question, that the Duke of Carrington—” Mama paused and smiled fondly “—and the new Duke of Lionhurst, both publicly announced that they are in partnerships in very profitable businesses with Mr. Beckford.”
Freddy was surprised by the mixed emotions that filled her. She was happy that Beckford had two such men, good, honorable, and incredibly influential in theton, to back him. By their public announcements, they’d made silent declarations that no one of thetondare treat him as if he were not accepted, but those public announcements, his new backing, did make her mother’s idea viable. Freddy groaned. This was horrid. How had her plan to live in Covent Garden gone so wrong? Never had starting a new life there included embroiling a man in a scandal that might possibly lead to her needing to wed him.
“Frederica! For heaven’s sake, after everything that has occurred, you must behave above reproach and comport yourself as a lady at all times. Ladies do not groan in public!”
Nails on a schoolroom slate. That’s the feeling her mother’s words caused Freddy. She arched her upper back but managed to keep any rejoinder between her clenched teeth.
“As I was saying, these public announcements make Mr. Beckford respectable and acceptable as a husband.”
“Mr. Beckford was already acceptable and respectable, Mama.” Or he was to her, which meant nothing for her problem if he wasn’t acceptable to theton. However, now he was, and somehow that solved part of her problem while creating a new one.
“I didn’t make the rules, Frederica. I simply live by them, as we all must.”
No, not everyone lived by those rules. The people in Covent Garden didn’t. Beckford didn’t live by rules that were so very restrictive on women. And yet, he had turned her offer to be her lover down. Too complicated. Was it his love for his dead wife that he was speaking of that made it too complicated? Or was it simply Freddy and that who she was didn’t suit him at all, even for a tumble in the sheets?
She’s mine.
The words whispered through her thoughts. He hadn’t meant it. Of course, he hadn’t. And she didn’t care. Of course, she didn’t. Hadn’t she decided long ago that she neither needed nor wanted love? And he… He had simply been trying to ensure that Lord Brooke understood to leave her alone.
Except Beckford’s words had made Lord Brooke’s claim seem true. She hadn’t even cared about that, not really, but what she could not dismiss sitting there now, thinking about his words, was that the idea of being his was… Well, heaven help her, it was appealing. A fissure of fear went through her. She didn’t want to desire something or someone who might never return those feelings.
“Frederica, it’s rude to ignore a question.”
Freddy blinked and met her mother’s gaze. “I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”
“I said, don’t you think you should go change into something more appealing to meet with Mr. Beckford?”
Freddy’s mouth slipped open. Surely, her mother was not truly serious. When her father started to rise, Freddy let out a relieved breath. He would not agree to such a thing. He was more reasonable than her mother. Among them, Guinevere and Carrington included, they could think of another solution that would lead Lord Asterly’s father and mother to grant their blessing upon a union between their son and Vivian.
“George, where are you going?” Frederica’s mother demanded.
He turned to face them, one foot out of the breakfast room. “To fetch my card and a pen. I think the note to call upon me to discuss Frederica should come from me, don’t you?” He was not looking at Mama but at Freddy.
Her blood made an odd whooshing sound in her ears so that she could hardly think. “Papa, I cannot—”
“—choose your own desires over your sister again. Yes, you are correct.” His tone was formidable. “I have faith,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly, “that you will not do so. But I do think you should have a say in whom I summon.”
“George!” her mother protested.
But he didn’t act as if he heard Freddy’s mother. His gaze stayed trained on Freddy. “Whom shall I summon, Frederica? Mr. Beckford or Lord Brooke?”
“Mr. Beckford,” she said, worry stabbing her heart.
Chapter Nine
Gabe’s office door creaked open, and Blythe appeared in the doorway with two glasses of whisky clutched in her hands. She held out a glass to him, which he took, then clanked hers against his.
“What are we celebrating?” he asked, taking a sip of the whisky. Maybe it would help release some of the tension he’d been unable to shake since the ball. Worry for Frederica had plagued him every waking moment—and his sleeping ones, too. Damn it all to hell. Worry and fear for her were things he did not want.
“I thought we’d celebrate the announcement by Lionhurst and Carrington that you’re their respectable business partner.”
