Page 117 of Oddity of the Ton
“Isn’t it obvious?” Juliette said. She turned the page, and the party gave a collective gasp as she revealed a study—a veryintricatestudy of the part of him that had given Eleanor so much pleasure.
“Bloody hell!” Mr. Moss cried. Lady Fairchild lifted her hands to her mouth in a gesture of outrage that would have been far more credible had her eyes not first flared with lust.
“That’sobscene!” she said. “Lady Howard—I demand to know what’s going on.”
“I think the drawing speaks for itself, Lady Fairchild,” Mr. Moss said with a grin. “It’s remarkably well executed.”
“It’s not a laughing matter!” Mother said. “Eleanor, what have youdone?”
“Calm yourself, Grace,” Papa said. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”
“An explanation, yes—but I doubt it’s reasonable. I always knew she had an overactive imagination—butthis? What kind of a mind dreams up such things? Itoldyou we should have had her seen. I knew almost from the moment she was born there was something amiss.”
“Mother—” Eleanor began, but she was cut off.
“Hold your tongue! You’ve no right to speak. Howdareyou disgrace our family!”
“I’m sure it’s just a silly prank,” Papa said. “Isn’t that right, child?”
Eleanor opened her mouth to reply. Then she glanced around the room. Multiple pairs of eyes stared at her. She glanced from one to the other—the cold mirth in Mr. Moss’s eyes, the haughty disdain in Lady Fairchild’s… Then she shifted her gaze to Colonel Reid, and her heart faltered at the anger in his expression.
“Colonel…”
“I should have known better,” he said flatly. “Is this how you and your sister plotted to humiliate me a second time?”
“Surely you don’t think—”
“I don’t think what? That you’ll spread your legs like any harlot to get what you want?” He glanced at Juliette, then let out a sharp laugh. “Of course! I should have guessed.”
Juliette paled and lowered the sketchbook. Then she swayed to one side. A footman caught her before she collapsed, and the sketchbook fluttered to the floor.
Eleanor’s mother stooped to pick it up, but Eleanor darted across the room and snatched it out of her hands.
“That’s mine!” she cried. “And it’s private!”
“Not anymore it’s not.” Mr. Moss chuckled.
“You’re hardly one to take the moral high ground!” Papa scoffed. “It’s Society’s worst-kept secret what you get up to with your paramour.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what—”
“Heath, please!” Lady Fairchild interrupted, and Eleanor could have wept with relief as she felt the party’s attention shift away from her, the release from the burden of their gazes almost making her lightheaded.
But not all of them looked away. Colonel Reid still stared at her. With her gut twisting at the disgust in his eyes, she turned and fled.
*
Shortly after Eleanorentered her chamber, clutching her precious sketchbook to her breast, Harriet appeared at the door.
“Oh, miss!” she cried. “I came to see if you’re all right.” She glanced at the sketchbook and blushed.
“So you’ve heard,” Eleanor said.
“James is tending to Miss Juliette. He said you might need some assistance.”
“Are the staff gossiping?”
Harriet’s blush deepened.
