Page 38 of The Duke of Scandal

Edward ran his hands through his hair.

“I did not know they were so…close. Who else knows of their…liaison?”

“No one outside of this room. There will be those among the staff who speculate about the presence of the young animal doctor in the kitchens and the argument that ensued. They will wonder what he said to cause such rage.”

Yes, my anger will have sparked all kinds of gossip among the household staff. Had I kept control, perhaps there would have been nothing for them to wonder over.

“There is also speculation about why a popular young vet should find himself dismissed from service and effectively driven out of the county,” Olivia continued.

Edward sighed. “God in heaven. What a mess this is. Do you have any notion of where she might have gone?”

Olivia spread her hands helplessly. “I do not.”

The revelation had further implications. Guests were on their way to Wrexham Castle. The fine June weather was being exploited to the full and a marquee had been erected in the park. Trestle tables and benches were set up for the two hundred invited guests. Casks of ale and porter beer were being rolled up out of the Castle cellars, along with wine. The kitchens had been a hive of industry, day and night.

And there was no way of telling the guests to turn around until they had already arrived. Edward stood in the Great Hall, the servants were at a standstill, having been given curt orders to stop whatever they were doing. Outside, Edward could hear the approach of a carriage, crunching on the gravel of the drive. He steeled himself for the words he would have to deliver.

To tell them they must about-turn and leave because there is no bride. I have sent word to the church, where Grantley will be waiting. And then I will have to deal with the wrath of the Stamfords. Friends of the Regent. Damn and blast!

“The Earl of Sandleigh, Simon Worthingham, Dowager Countess of Sandleigh, and Miss Harriet and Eleanor Worthingham.”

The Worthingham family appeared in the doorway but Edward only had eyes for Harriet. She wore a white bonnet, tied beneath her chin, and a light summery dress of yellow and white. By contrast, her cousin, Eleanor, wore a much finer dress with jewelry at her throat. But she was outshone by Harriet.

“Welcome back to Wrexham,” Edward said graciously. “But I fear your journey has been a wasted one. There is to be no wedding.”

After the expected consternation and a particularly dramatic reaction from the Dowager Countess, the Worthinghams were ushered into a drawing room for refreshment. Edward remained in the Great Hall waiting for the next arrival.

“Is there anything I can do?” Harriet asked.

Edward whirled. She had returned to the Great Hall alone and looked anxious, bonnet in her hand.

“I fear not, Harriet,” Edward said. “I do not know what I can do, let alone anyone else.”

“Would it be impertinent of me to ask what has happened?” Harriet asked, closing the space between them with tentative steps, as though Edward were a skittish colt that needed to be approached slowly.

“It would,” Edward replied.

“But I shall ask anyway. I do not see that I have anything to lose. And you do not know whether someone can help until you ask,” Harriet replied boldly.

Edward smiled, despite himself. He moved away from Harriet to stand beside the doors, looking out. He expected the Duke of Stamford to arrive like a thunderstorm.

“I had forgotten how refreshingly direct you are, Harriet,” he said.

“Sometimes it is the only way to get things done.”

“My sister has absconded with a man I banished from the county some months ago. A vet,” Edward said bitterly.

“Absconded? You mean…” Harriet didn’t finish, swallowing the word.

“Eloped?” Edward whispered. “Yes, that is what I mean. The scandal every father dreads, and, as head of the family, I stand as Rebecca’s father.”

“What will you do? Will you go looking for her?”

Edward sighed. “I must. That is my duty.”

“Your Grace. You look so sad I wanted to see if there was anything my brother or I could do,” said another female voice from the door of the drawing room. It was Eleanor. She stood with one hand on the door frame and her lower lip caught between her teeth. She looked down, then back up demurely, watching Edward through expertly enhanced eyelashes.

Harriet, her back to Eleanor, rolled her eyes and Edward suppressed a smile. The Dowager Countess appeared behind her niece, fanning herself.

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