Page 17 of The Duke of Scandal

“Well, papa. You always predicted it and now it has come to pass. Rebecca is out of control and we stand on the verge of scandal and destruction. What do I do? I had not even foreseen this sequence of events. Will this be the eventual ruin of the Boltons?”

CHAPTER 11

Edward put his head into his hands, running them down his face. He stared into the shadow at the grave marker that had been laid over his father’s body. After leaving Rebecca, he had played the host, danced, and mingled with his guests. It had all been a sham. The smiles and laughter went no deeper than the surface. Within, he turned the problem of Rebecca over and over. There was no way out. Either she married a man beneath her station to the detriment of the Boltons. Or it came out as a scandal. And the Bolton name would forever be sullied.

“It is my fault. I should have been stricter with her. As you were,” Edward said. “I always thought you were wrong in your discipline. But, if this is the result…”

He shook his head, clasping his hands in front of him as though in prayer. Then he stood abruptly. Talking to the moldering corpse of a man who, in life, had been notoriously laconic.

“This is ridiculous!” he whispered to himself.

He whirled at the sound of a twig breaking. It came from somewhere behind. It was followed by a muttered imprecation, as if of someone swearing at making noise when they had been trying to remain silent. This was the absolute limit. To be spied upon on top of everything else! Edward lunged for the tree, reaching around the trunk and into the deeper shadows behind. His fingers made contact with hair and he grabbed for it.

A woman yelped and an elbow was thrust into Edward’s stomach, driving out his breath. There was the sound of someone running. Pushing off against the tree, he lunged in the direction of the sound and cannoned into a dashing, female figure. He wrapped his arms about her waist, lifting her off her feet and turning her so that he stood between her and the path.

“You!” Edward snapped as a break in the clouds above allowed pale moonlight to penetrate the branches of the oak.

He recognized the palely beautiful face revealed before him. She kicked at his shin and it took some effort for him not to hop away from her, clutching at his lower leg. Instead, he hissed through his teeth at the sharp pain but held firm to her waist. The slap was expected, Edward caught her wrist and pushed it down. The lady just slapped his other cheek instead, rocking his head to the side and making his ears ring.

“Unhand me! You beast!” the lady demanded.

Edward released her. “That is some right arm you have. I have known prize fighters with a weaker hook.”

“When a lady is accosted she does what she can to protect her honor.”

“I heartily approve. But your honor is in no danger from me,” Edward replied, “why were you spying on me?”

“I was not spying. I came out here for some fresh air and a break from…frivolous chatter.”

“Indeed. I’m sorry to hear that you have not enjoyed my ball. No expense was spared.”

The lady paused and took a half step closer.

“You are the Duke that I met earlier? Edward Bolton?”

“At your service,” Edward said wryly, rubbing his stinging cheek.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Your Grace. I was taken by surprise. I heard you coming and hid behind the tree because…well I didn’t want to speak to anyone.”

“The very same reason I came here myself.” Edward realized that he still stood in the opening in the oval of laurels that formed the alcove, the oak tree at its center. He stepped aside, returning to the bench in order to assure the lady he was no threat. She moved away from him but did not leave.

“You were talking to someone,” the lady said.

“My father. Or his spirit rather. That is his grave,” Edward pointed into the shadows where the slab lay.

“Oh. Well, I give you my word, Your Grace, I was not spying. I tried not to hear anything.”

“But, you did hear something,” Edward said.

The lady shrugged. “It was private. Anything I heard, I shall not speak of. You have my word on that as well.”

He regarded her for a moment, her face fading in and out of the shadows. But he remembered it from the house. Seeing her emerge from the crowd, it had been as though a beam of sunlight had picked her out. Dressed simply but elegantly and with a beauty that outshone the brightest of the jewels worn by the other women. He had found her captivating. A delicate perfume reached him as the breeze shifted.

It had been disguised in the house by the thousand other perfumes and colognes. It was floral with a hint of clean, sharp citrus.

“I will leave you to your solace,” she finally said, moving back towards the path.

“No.” Edward put up a hand. “I find that isolation is no longer what I’m looking for. Would you stay, and sit with me for a moment?”

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