Page 44 of The Duke of Scandal

Please God do not let this be a scandal concerning Rebecca. If there is to be scandal, let it fall on me, not her. And not Harriet either.

The story was not a scandal. It featured in a section of the paper devoted to news of London society, proclaiming deaths, births, and engagements. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he read the first of the featured engagements.

“His Grace the Duke of Wrexham, Edward Bolton is to be married to Miss Harriet Worthingham, cousin to the Earl of Erdington, Simon Worthingham. The date to be confirmed.”

CHAPTER 30

“Harriet! Your mother has come to see you!” Eleanor called out through Harriet’s door.

The words, in the privacy of the floor on which they shared rooms, were delivered with a contemptuous tone that she would not use in public. Eleanor thought little of the Dowager Countess and probably less of Harriet. The shouted words stopped the scratching of Harriet’s pen against the paper of the letter she was writing to Edward. Barely three days had passed since her last letter, but she found the temptation too great. It was the closest thing to actually speaking to him.

Blotting the paper and then putting away her writing materials, she stood and strode briskly to the door. Then stopped with a start at the sight of Eleanor just outside. Harriet had assumed she would have walked on, her message delivered and in as bad a grace as she could manage.

“Thank you, cousin. I was not expecting her,” Harriet said formally.

Eleanor sneered, she looked over Harriet’s shoulder into the room.

“You seem to spend an awful lot of time in this room lately. What are you up to?”

Harriet closed the door behind her and gave a forced smile.

“Maintaining my correspondences. And I spend as much time out of doors as I do in here. Have you missed my company?” Harriet smiled sweetly and Eleanor snorted.

“Hardly. I wondered if your correspondence was with the handsome Duke of Wrexham perhaps?”

“Handsome? Do you think so?” Harriet said as she began to walk along the hallway.

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re not aware of it. With the amount of time you have spent in the man’s company,” Eleanor replied, keeping pace.

“He has been through a terrible ordeal, trying to find his sister. And an embarrassing one for his family. Any support I can offer is gladly given. Our family needs all the good favor it can get.”

Eleanor stopped. “What does that mean? Why would we need good favor?” she demanded.

Harriet also stopped, silently cursing herself for her clumsy words. She had no desire to cause unnecessary worry to her cousin or go back on the promise she had given to Simon. Over the last few days, he had asked for her help trying to find a way through the financial quagmire he waded through. It had involved a great deal of time spent looking over books, contracts, and ledgers, alone with him. Harriet was uncomfortable with this, suspecting his feelings for her. At every other opportunity, she had taken herself out for walks or rides, escaping into the country.

“A poor choice of words. I just meant that anyone would welcome the friendship of the Bolton family,” Harriet said.

Eleanor watched her for a moment with narrowed eyes, then resumed walking. As she passed Harriet she said, “Yes, I suppose the Duke is in need of support trying to cover up the shame of an elopement. I would die of it.”

Now it was Harriet’s turn to stand stock still, watching her cousin.

“And that comment stands a great deal of explaining, cousin. What makes you think that Rebecca has eloped?”

Eleanor’s mouth opened a little as though she had been caught with words in it that she should not. Then a smile formed. “Speculation only. Though from your reaction, I would say it is not far from the truth.”

“My reaction was to the idea that Rebecca Bolton would elope. It is a shameful slur.”

“Oh, so you are the champion for the Boltons now? What loyalty to a man you hardly know,” Eleanor said with venom.

“He is my friend. I am proud to say it,” Harriet replied with heat of her own.

“Yes. Your…friend. And his sister resides at Wrexham Castle after an attack of…cold feet,” Eleanor scoffed.

Harriet composed herself, hoping that she had not inadvertently let Edward’s secret slip out in her moment of surprise.

Why would Eleanor jump immediately to that conclusion? There must be some gossip along those lines, I suppose, but it is not unknown for a young girl to get wedding nerves. Especially for an arranged marriage. What does she know?

Harriet thought that it would serve Edward well to know what Eleanor had learned, or thought she had. And in that case, Harriet’s duty for him was to put aside the rivalry there had always been with Eleanor, though not instigated by Harriet. She forced a smile.

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