Page 12 of Loving Mister Stratford
It took Simon several moments to realize how the situation actually appeared. He turned his head to Miss Leroy, still in shock in his arms, swung across his lap, her skirts in disarray. As quickly as he could, he stood and helped her find her footing.
“That’s not what transpired,” he attempted to defend the scene, but he could already tell it was a losing battle. Miss Leroy, however, was either more adamant or less aware of this fact.
“Mr. Stratford has never had untoward attentions—this is all a misunderstanding. He was shut in this room awaiting a message. I was accompanying my mother back to the parlor and—”
“But Odette,” her mother interrupted her, her large, beautiful eyes wide and doe-like as their host continued to support her arm;“you never came to meet me in the powder room. I stopped waiting for you and went back to the parlor alone, assuming you’d been held up by a conversation.”
Odette’s mouth snapped shut.
Simon was unable to read her expression, but her crystalline eyes grew wide and suspiciously bright.
“It would seem that she’d been waylaid by something else, indeed,” chimed in the other nameless guest, wicked delight in every syllable.
Immediately, Simon, Miss Leroy, and her mother were shown into another sitting room where they could speak in private. They all knew that the closed door was only an illusion; there was likely at least one person lingering outside hoping to capture a juicy tidbit to feed to everyone like a scrap to ravenous wolves. Doubtless, the rest of the party had long since learned of the titillating scene that had been discovered when their host had offered to show off a rare book in his collection.
“This is entirely unacceptable, as I’m sure you’re aware, Mr. Stratford,” the older woman addressed him.“It is one thing to hold hands or steal a kiss or two, butthis…” She seemed rather well-recovered; her color was much higher than it had been when there was more of an audience.
“I assure you, Mademoiselle Auclair, that the situation is not what it appeared to be,” Simon tried to remain calm and sound reassuring, but the blood pounded nearly deafening in his ears.
“And if that is the case…ifthat is not the way it appeared… Well, if I have learned one thing from my time amongst your kind here in London, it’s that they care little for the truth and far more for appearances.” Her French accent became more pronounced as she continued, her tirade gaining speed, though never losing focus.“Do you think one person here will believe that what we just witnessed was innocent?”
“But—” Miss Leroy attempted to interject, but she was swiftly cut off.
“And what of her reputation? My daughter’s name will be slandered. Every ounce of meager respectability she has will lay in tatters.”
Simon risked a glance at Miss Leroy as her mother railed. He briefly frowned when he saw a flicker of tears in her eyes before she turned them down to her hands clenched so tightly before her.
How had this night gone so horribly awry?
“Then what would you suggest, Mademoiselle?” Simon asked her mother, forestalling any further impassioned monologue she might have spewed.
“Why, Monsieur Stratford, I would suggest you marry her.”
*****
Several exhausting hours later, Odette and her mother finally returned to their flat. Odette had remained stubbornly, painfully silent as her mother had made their excuses to the rest of the party and then on the carriage ride home. Now, as they were alone, all of the pain of her mother’s betrayal spilled over following her mother’s bright statement that,“That all went rather well.”
“Well?” demanded Odette, raising her voice to her mother for perhaps the first time in her life. “You call that‘rather well?’You plotted the whole thing; you shoved me into his arms without so much as a‘by your leave.’You entrapped him. You entrapped both of us.” Odette sobbed and swiped at the tears coursing down her cheeks, staining her ivory gloves beyond all repair. She was tired of bottling up the storm brewing deep inside her and she unleashed her anger and pain in great gusts of emotion.
In the face of Odette’s pain and tears, her mother simply crossed her hands before her and tilted her head.
“He didn’t have to agree to marry you, but he did,” she said matter-of-factly.“And you said so, yourself, that you cared for him. What is the problem?”
“Did you ever once bother to consider that I might desire a marriage born of love instead of entrapment? You’ve stolen that chance from me—from Mr. Stratford as well.
“Even if there had been a chance that we might one day love one another, you’ve unforgivably forced our hands. We’ll never know for sure what might have been.” Odette’s chest heaved and ached.
Her mother scoffed.“Do stop being so fanciful,ma fille cherie; I thought you were past the point of fairy tales. No one truly marries for love, not if they want security.”
“I refuse to believe that,” she snapped at her mother, tearing off her ruined gloves and throwing them at the chaise; the result was less satisfying than she’d intended.“Just because you weren’t able to hold onto your love doesn’t mean love doesn’t exist.” The words struck her mother as if she’d been slapped across the face. Several tense moments of silence ensued; both women were wounded in ways they’d never believed the other would strike.
“You heard me,” Odette panted, practically trembling with emotion;“I’ve always realized the truth of it. You loved my father—whoever he is—but you couldn’t keep him for yourself. It is why you’ve always been so restless; you’ve moved on from one position to the next, one lover to the next, never willing to settle down despite the proposals and offers of protection. Just because it ended poorly for you doesn’t mean love cannot work for someone else.”
Odette stormed past her mother before she could reply.
Chapter Four
The next afternoon, Odette received a letter from Mr. Stratford. The writing was as straightforward and unpretentious as its author; his handwriting was neat and orderly, painstakingly legible. In it, he told her that he’d explained the engagement to his parents. Their response had been to procure a special license and, given the circumstances, to retreat to Bridleton, their estate in Kent, to prepare for the wedding in two weeks. After all, the official start to the Season had not yet begun, so they wouldn’t be missing much in Town anyway.
