Page 126 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“That’s not what I asked. A man who forgives merely because he believes that his God has instructed him to do so is not demonstrating goodness. Rather, he is demonstrating self-righteousness, declaring himself superior to whomever he forgives.”
“Then what must the man do, Lady Arabella, if he is witness to sin?”
“He should understand,” she said. “Especially if the alleged sinner is a woman. We live in a world ruled by men. When a man sins he does so with the full knowledge that Society, the law, and the church permit him such liberties that legitimize the sin. When a woman sins, her reasons are often more complex.”
“Sin is sin, is it not, Lady Arabella?”
“You speak the words of a man with little understanding, Lord Radham.”
“Bella, love. Are you lecturing my friend?” Baxter appeared at his wife’s elbow.
“Forgive me, Lord Radham,” Lady Arabella said. “My unfortunate husband has married a harridan.”
“You are entitled to your opinion, Lady Arabella,” Andrew said.
“But perhaps I should not always express it so freely.”
“I would rather be responded to with honesty than listen to niceties that are only spoken to maintain social convention, Lady Arabella.”
She nodded, then gestured toward Lady Trelawney. “Alice in some ways is similar to Juliette. They both committed acts that they regret, and for which they have suffered. Some may call them sinners, but those who know and love them understand that they are guilty of nothing more than having committed acts of survival in a world ruled by men.”
“Survival?”
“If two doves are caged together, eventually they will turn against each other to survive,” she said. “But rather than condemn the doves, you should look to the man who caged them in the first place, and the world that enabled their incarceration. I myself was a caged dove—and until you have suffered such imprisonment, you cannot condemn the inmate for merely trying to lessen her own suffering.”
“You make me quite ashamed, Lady Arabella,” Andrew said.
“I did not intend to—” She broke off, a smile illuminating her features. “Oh, the children!” she cried. “How delightful. Gather round, my darlings, and say how do you do to our guests, then we can bid you good night.”
Andrew glanced up to see a thin woman in a neat, crisp gown, surrounded by a gaggle of children and issuing instructions to her charges in a soft voice with a country burr. Her voice seemed familiar.
Where had he seen her before?
Then their eyes met and recognition slid into place. She let out a cry and stepped back. She collided with a footman, who dropped his tray, which fell to the floor with a clatter and explosion of glass.
It was Loveday Smith.
She stared at the mess on the floor, then grew pale as she lifted her gaze to the footman.
Baxter approached her and she flinched, her eyes widening with terror. She took a step back and he raised his hand.
“Stop!” he cried.
She cringed, hunching her shoulders as if in anticipation of a blow.
“Baxter!” Andrew said, leaping forward. “Leave her be! It was an accident.”
“I know that, you numbskull,” Baxter huffed. “But there’s glass on the floor and I’m not wantin’ Mrs. Smith to tread on it and hurt her feet.” He resumed his attention on the shivering young woman. “Keep still, love, while Simon clears the mess up, You don’t mind, do you, Simon?”
The footman shook his head and crouched to the floor, plucking shards of glass from the rug.
“Children, come here,” Lady Arabella said. “Careful not to step on the glass.”
Three of the children sidestepped the shards and approached Lady Arabella, who steered them toward the other guests. The fourth clung to Loveday.
Andrew approached them, offering his hand. “Here, let me help you.”
Loveday shook her head.
