Chapter Twelve

“Oh, Aunt, I’m mortified.”

“You will survive mortification, Samantha. It does not matter at the moment.”

Lady Minerva snapped, “Samantha, close your mouth,” She adjusted her shawl around her small shoulders. “Should I assume your apparent shock is because of the enormity of the gift I’ve just bestowed upon you, or is it that you are upset at the sight of His Grace with his mistress?”

Samantha tried to emulate her aunt’s calm composure, but tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Aunt Min, be serious. How could he? To see his mistress there, so real, so beautiful, and clinging like a choking vine, I wanted to dash him to pieces.” She took a linen handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her eyes. “Tell me the truth, Aunt Min. Is she more beautiful than I?”

“She has a mature beauty and has lost her youth. As far as I’m concerned, you are a beautiful and rare woman. You have intellect, a warm heart and embrace fantasy notions, but I love you. There is more to a woman than mere beauty, you’ll learn. I see your blatant flirtations with him, but I thought you didn’t like Raven. Since when does he have to be concerned with how you feel about him and his mistress? Men and their courtesans are part of our polite society. They are accepted and appreciated by many a wife. I would’ve killed my husband if he had a mistress, but then I’m of a different opinion. Why are you upset?” She took Samantha’s hand in hers and held it close. “You’ve said to me time and time again that you don’t wish to marry. Why? Could it have been painful for you?”

Samantha bared all in unbearable detail, like an unexpected monsoon. Samantha sobbed as the tears trickled down her cheeks. “It was not a marriage, Aunt Min. It was a sham.” She held her aunt’s hand and tightened her grip. “He… Percival could not…” Her breath raced and her eyes widened.

“Could not what?” Aunt Min asked.

“Percival was unable to…” She paused and blurted out, “Consummate the marriage.”

Aunt Min’s eyes engaged Samantha’s. “Because?”

“Im-impotence. How do I know? He was a liar and deserted me on our wedding night.” She released her aunt’s hand to dab at her tears again. “I lived with the lie and allowed people to refer to us as the ideal couple, besotted with each other. In truth, I hated Percival for what he did to me. My husband took a whole and romantic young woman much in love and deceived me into marriage. His deviousness knew no bounds.” With her other hand, she reached for her aunt again. “Aunt Min, if he didn’t die when he did, I know I’d have shot him at some future point…or at the worst, compromised my principles with a lover. I have always wanted children. Percival knew that. How could I have children if he didn’t want to touch me? Was I that abhorrent? How could he have been so cruel? Why did he marry me? Was it only for my dowry? I hate this society and its inequality toward women.” Samantha agonized.

“In all this time, why didn’t you tell me, Samantha? I could’ve helped and guided you. You know I would’ve been discreet.” She hugged her niece and held her close.

“Yes, Aunt Min, but it was such an embarrassment. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even you. Forgive me. You know how much I love you. Shame poured over me like a tidal wave. It was like everyone could read my mind and know, as if I was unclean, unwanted, and unused.” She reached for her aunt’s jeweled hand. “How could I tell you—or anyone—my new handsome husband left me alone on our wedding night because of his impotency, while he went out to his club or some other haunt I didn’t know. How could I suffer the slander if the ton knew when my husband died, he left behind a virgin wife? What would they have said of me? Would they think me frigid? How would an annulment affect my brother and all that he tries to do for us?”

Minerva whispered in her niece’s ear in sympathy. “What a turn of events, Samantha. I need to dwell on this further. To have all the pain of your marriage with none of the joys is more than a disappointment to a young bride.” She shook her head, perhaps in reminiscence. Her hand caressed Samantha’s tear-stained face. Lady Minerva stated in a low, firm voice, “Tell no one about this, not even your brother.”

They rode back to the house in stony silence. Upon their arrival, they ran into Winston.

Lady Minerva’s tone indicated no concern or restriction. She removed her bonnet and gloves. With nonchalance, she smiled. “Ah, Brandon, while at Mr. Pilgrim’s, we met His Grace, Ravensmere, with Lady Louise Buxton.”

Samantha sulked her way up the steps, desolate and ashamed. Hurt beyond all measure, she yet again allowed another man to deceive her. She would never trust him. He was a brute of the tallest order. How would he feel if she were with another man and Raven came across them in a jewelry store? She chastised herself at the question. They meant nothing to each other—at the moment. She determined never to see him again under any circumstances.

The ensuing days passed at a slow pace for Samantha. Even the auction for her Foundation didn’t excite her.

When the day of the Almack’s auction arrived, in the tumult of the preparation and afternoon festivities sponsored by the premier social committee, Samantha busied herself with attention to details. She slipped in and out of the room, cognizant of the conversations, but did not participate. Her aunt reminded her brother of his promise not to bid for his sister’s picnic basket. “Better to let it be unsold than let the ton know her brother saved her face.” She smiled at Winston. “I know you would spare her this, but she has to accept whatever happens on her terms. Respect Samantha’s wishes. It’s better she learn life’s lessons in preparation for her future.”

Winston acquiesced, as usual.

The porters assisted in the transfer of baskets and passengers in the carriages and landaus under Samantha’s watchful eye. The picnic lunches graced the head table while the invited guests waited in line for their names to be crossed off the invitation list and announced.

True to his word, Raven came alone and joined Lord Winston and Lady Minerva. He noted the auction’s decorations showed a high degree of good taste. Damask-covered tables and chairs added elegance across the lawns. Expensive china headed each place along with silver and gold plate ware. Crystal glasses sparkled and complemented each setting. Flower petals lay on each table for their scent. Floral candelabras substituted as centerpieces and although a picnic lunch, the auction would not commence until three in the afternoon as was appropriate for the special event.

“Winston, I find that this is a well organized affair. As I gaze around, everyone seems to enjoy the festivities. Just look at those young ladies sauntering up and down the verdant gardens. They are flirtatious with the eligible men of their acquaintance,” Raven said.

Lady Minerva said, “It promises to be a wonderful afternoon. Mothers will hover nearby to keep a watchful eye in case there would be a need for their protection.”

“This will be a well-remembered occasion,” Raven commented to Winston. “I do hope your foundation will reap sufficient monetary funds for its needs.”

“Your Grace, er, Raven, the foundation is funded by my sister. I thought you were aware of the fact.”

“No, I wasn’t. Such sponsorship is an expensive endeavor,” he commented while deep in thought. This became another side of the lady and her far-reaching magnanimous nature. Duly impressed, he concluded there was much more to know about this unusual woman.

“My mother left her a sufficient inheritance, and my father’s trust fund remains endowed in her name. She had a large dower when she married Sir Percival. I believe I mentioned to you her frugality, but she is also passionate about this charity.” Winston paused and reviewed the crowd of gatherers. “I do feel at times there is sadness within her that she can’t share with her family because it’s too painful.”

Raven took note that even her brother believed Samantha harbored a secret. He was curious to find out what it was and decided at some point he’d find out from her willingly.

“I’m sure when she is prepared to tell you, she will. Most likely, she waits for the appropriate time. Don’t be overly concerned. Sometimes it’s best not to know.”