Page 20 of The Duke of Scandal

“Think nothing of it. The responsibility of a great house and estate is an onerous burden at times, it takes up all of one’s time. Add to that a niece of marriageable age and, I must confess, I have not been as sociable as I would like. Now, how can I help?”

Harriet revealed the drops of blood. “It is nothing really, I pricked my finger on a plant while exploring the garden. I just don’t want to return to the company with this marring my dress. My cousin, Eleanor, is fetching her brother and he will send for the carriage.”

“Nonsense, my dear. You will take our own carriage. I was speaking to your mother, the Dowager Countess just a few moments ago. I will tell her so that she may wait with you while I arrange the carriage.”

Harriet’s horror deepened. She had deliberately not asked for Eleanor to find her mother. She would faint at the sight of blood and be scandalized at the thought of her daughter walking alone in the gardens at night. The Lady Lauren would insist on accompanying her daughter home and the entire journey would be an unending diatribe on the proper behavior of young women and a comparison with her own youth.

“Do not trouble yourself, please, Lady Olivia. Eleanor is already on her way to fetch Simon,” Harriet protested.

“No trouble at all, my dear. Lauren is my oldest friend. Nothing is too much trouble. Ah, I see your young cousin has beaten me to it. Here comes Lauren now.”

Harriet looked around in despair. Her mother was hurrying towards her, holding her antique, gold-encrusted skirts to avoid contact with the ground. Her face looked far paler than the powder she wore should account for, and her eyes went to the stains on Harriet’s dress as soon as she was close enough to see. A hand went to her mouth which had opened into an almost perfect circle.

“Mama, please do not distress yourself. It is only a prick of the finger. Nothing at all really,” Harriet said, hurrying over.

Eleanor stood at Lauren’s elbow, her mouth twitching with the urge to smile. Harriet didn’t look at her, knowing that she would see a smirk when she did.

“I could not find my brother. But I did find the Lady Lauren. I thought she should know of the trouble you’d gotten into.”

“Trouble? Trouble? Oh my, oh goodness. That does not look like a pricked finger, Harriet. What is this trouble? Tell me. Tell me!”

Lauren’s voice was rising in stridency. Olivia was at her elbow in an instant, supporting her.

“Now, now, Lauren. It is not as bad as it looks.”

“It really isn’t mother. Just a prick of the finger, as I said.”

“And why didn’t your companion immediately bring you back to the house and raise the alarm?” Lauren demanded with increasing hysteria.

“I was alone, mama,” Harriet said.

Now, the Dowager Countess did swoon. Eleanor and Olivia caught her between them, lowering her to the floor. Other guests began to gather, expressing concern as Harriet clamped her hand to her chest once more to cover the blood stains. This was becoming a complete nightmare.

CHAPTER 13

“But we simply must stay. Poor Aunt Lauren is not up to a long and arduous road journey in her current state,” Eleanor said.

“We cannot impose on the Boltons, simply because my mother is highly strung. I would be mortified,” Harriet protested, dabbing the stained front of her dress with a damp cloth.

Simon stood before the fireplace in the Duke’s private library. The Dowager Countess was reclining on a chaise longe, being fanned by her niece, Eleanor, who sat next to her. Harriet tried to maintain an outward facade of calm, while inside, she seethed at Eleanor’s blatant attempts to manipulate the situation into something more.

“I know that you are enjoying the ball, Eleanor. But, I think mama’s health is more important. She should be at home.”

“I am thinking of Aunt Lauren’s health, cousin. And only that,” Eleanor protested.

The sidelong look she gave to Harriet when Simon’s back was momentarily turned gave the lie of her words. Harriet suddenly wondered if this were an attempt to spend more time in the company of the Duke, who was, after all, unmarried. She wondered at the stab of jealousy she felt at that thought. He was nothing to her, in fact, she would be happy if she never saw him again after the embarrassment of their last encounter.

“Will you two please stop arguing,” Simon said wearily. “I am in agreement with Eleanor. I do not think being bumped about in a carriage will help. There are some bad roads between here and Erdington. I will speak to His Grace at once.”

Harriet’s heart nearly stopped as Simon reached for a bell pull to summon a servant. Lauren raised her head weakly.

“I quite agree, Simon. There is no possibility that I could travel at this moment. It would shatter my nerves.”

“Quite, Aunt Lauren. I will send for His Grace and prevail upon his hospitality. Don’t fret.”

“But, I do not wish my frailty to end this glorious evening for all of you. I ask that you and Eleanor return to the ball.”

“Aunt Lauren, we will not hear of it,” Eleanor protested, taking Lauren’s hand.