Page 42 of One Night of Scandal
They arrived at Grandmama’s brougham, and it was immediately evident that she already knew. A group of people hurried away from the vehicle. Grandmama sat inside, her gaze icy as she stared at Viola. “Get in.”
The footman helped Viola into the vehicle, and when she tried to sit beside her grandmother, Grandmama gestured to the rear-facing seat. “Sit over there. Where I can glower at you.” She looked down at Jack. “When is the wedding?”
Jack returned her stare without wavering. “I will call on you tomorrow to discuss it.”
“You will call on us right now.”
“Grandmama, we aren’t getting married,” Viola said, hating the impassivity of Jack’s expression. He was obviously angry, but was he anything else? She couldn’t tell.
Viola expected her to argue, but Jack spoke first. “Yes, we are,” he said firmly and without looking at Viola. He continued to stare at the dowager, then inclined his head before turning and walking toward the gate.
Was he going to Berkeley Square? Why didn’t he just ride with them? She was about to suggest that, but her grandmother’s furious expression quashed anything she’d considered saying.
“Drive,” Grandmama said to Turner.
As they left the park, Viola finally summoned some words. “I wasn’t really with him.”
“It hardly matters. You said you were, and all of Mayfair has now heard it.”
“Surely notallof Mayfair.”
“Don’t be cute with me, Viola. I am positively livid you would behave in this manneragain. You seem to think you are immune, that somehow my influence will shield you from Society’s judgment. It will not. It barely did the first time, and it surely won’t now.”
“I don’t expect protection. I was trying to protecthim. Mr. Barrett. He was being accused of something he didn’t do.”
“So you made up a story about spending the evening with him?” Grandmama settled herself back against the seat. “Explain yourself.”
Viola decided it was time to tell her the truth—about everything. Mostly everything. Some of the bits between her and Jack she would keep to herself. Not only did she not want to share it, she was confident Grandmama wouldn’t want to hear it. As it was, she wouldn’t like much of what Viola was about to reveal. “I suppose I should start at the very beginning.”
“That would be a good place,” Grandmama said testily.
“About two years ago, I began to dress as a man called Tavistock.”
Grandmama’s eyes nearly bulged from her head. “Youare Tavistock? The columnist in theLadies’ Gazette?”
“It was the only way they would allow me to write for them. They don’t hire women.”
“To write for a woman’s magazine?” Grandmama pursed her lips. “Idiots.”
Viola tamped down a smile—now was not the time to indulge in humor. In the amount of time it took to drive to Berkeley Square, she’d explained about being Tavistock, about pursuing the story regarding the attack on the Prince Regent, and about working with Jack and how he was now the target of dangerous gossip and accusations.
“I see why you wanted to protect him, but it was foolishly done,” Grandmama said as the brougham pulled to a stop in front of her house. “Actually, I don’t see why you wanted to protect him. Are you in love with Mr. Barrett?”
“I— No.” She’d been about to say she didn’t know. But she suspected shedidknow, and she preferred to pretend she didn’t. So she’d lie to her grandmother and to herself.
When they were out of the brougham and walking to the house, Viola continued, “I had to protect him because he went to that meeting last night for me, to help with my story. I can’t let him suffer for aiding me—he could end up in prison.”
“Balderdash. He would never go to prison.” Grandmama preceded her into the house. In the entrance hall, she paused to remove her hat and gloves, which she handed to Blenheim. Viola did the same. “Mr. Barrett will be calling shortly, Blenheim. Show him into the library.”
Grandmama moved into the library, and Viola followed. When the dowager was situated in her favorite chair and Viola perched on a settee, her expression was much improved. She almost looked…pleased?
“No, Mr. Barrett would never go to prison. He’s an important MP with a brilliant future, likely a title.”
Viola began to understand Grandmama’s transformation. Jack was now her favorite person in the world because he was about to do what no one had been able to do—secure Viola’s hand in marriage. Only that wasn’t going to happen. Just as with Ledbury, this marriage would never take place.
Chapter 12
Jack took his time walking to Berkeley Square, not because he was dreading the interview with the dowager, but because he wanted to calm his thoughts. He also didn’t want to be a sweaty mess.
