Beth fought the urge to flee from Mr. Coulsen and the ballroom entirely. What could he possibly know about Alex that she did not?
“If you are referring to the duke’s notorious reputation,” she said coolly, “I can assure you I am already aware of it.”
“No, that’s not it.” He propped his hands on his hips, thoughtful yet fierce, looking every inch the noble knight. “I fear that the news may trouble you, and yet, I feel I must disclose it.”
She doubted that he referred to the fire or Alex’s parents or even the attempts on his life. Instead, she had the sense that Mr. Coulsen was about to tell her something far more personal.
“Please,” she said softly. “Whatever it is that you must tell me … just say it.”
He let out a long, slow breath, as if the revelation would pain him too. “After we spoke at Lord and Lady Claville’s ball, I found myself dwelling on our conversation, specifically the part where you told me that you and your sisters were known throughout the ton as the Wilting Wallflowers. Once I recovered from my shock, I couldn’t help being appalled … and angry.”
His outrage on her behalf warmed her. “I appreciate your concern for our reputations. But we’ve learned to ignore the vicious barbs and superior stares. You needn’t fret on our account.” Still, it was nice to know someone did.
“I made some inquiries,” he said. “To try and discover the source of the ridiculous label. I was determined to confront the scoundrel. Anyone who would treat three young ladies so cruelly and callously deserves to be called out for his behavior.”
Icy dread filled her veins. “What does this have to do with the duke?”
Mr. Coulsen’s jaw clenched. “He is the one who gave you and your sisters the name, Beth. He dubbed you the Wilting Wallflowers.”
She blinked, dumbfounded. It simply couldn’t be true. Alex would never have been so malicious. Mr. Coulsen was probably just maligning him in order to gain favor with her. Perhaps he was jealous of Alex or held some sort of grudge.
“I … I don’t know what to say.” Suddenly chilled, she rubbed the tops of her arms.
As though privy to her thoughts, he said, “I wouldn’t blame you for doubting me. And I won’t deny that I had hoped to further our acquaintance. Of course, I’m disappointed to learn that your affections are otherwise engaged, but I tell you the truth only so that you may be armed with the facts.”
“I understand,” she said numbly—even though she understood nothing. Mr. Coulsen had essentially accused the man she loved of causing her and her sisters years of untold pain. Her heart simply refused to accept it.
Snippets of intimate conversations with Alex echoed in her head.
Promise me something. The next time someone calls you a wallflower, see yourself the way I’m seeing you right now … Don’t give that word an ounce of power over you. Don’t let it define you.
She swallowed the painful knot in her throat. No, no. He’d defended her. He’d helped her break free from the name. He couldn’t have been the one to launch the horrible, hateful name that had haunted her and her sisters for the last three years.
“I appreciate your candor and do not doubt that you are well-intentioned,” she said stiffly. “However, is it not possible that you were misinformed in this instance?” After all, the ton had been incorrect about Alex’s reputation as the prince of rakes. They could be wrong about this too, couldn’t they?
“I don’t think so,” Mr. Coulsen said regretfully. “The person who confirmed the fact for me is a close friend of the duke’s—none other than Lord Darberville. He happened to be present on that dubious occasion. You may ask him yourself if you’d like.”
Beth didn’t want to hear any more. Alex trusted Lord Darberville more than anyone. And if he claimed that Alex had done it … Oh, God.
It must be true.
The ballroom tilted, her fingers went numb, and a low buzz started in her ears. “I think I require a bit of time to consider all you’ve said.”
“Of course.” His forehead creased in concern. “Forgive me if I’ve spoiled your evening. Shall I return you to your sisters?”
Her mouth turned dry as burnt toast. “No … thank you. I think I shall take a moment to freshen up. Please excuse me.”
Her heart galloping, she fled toward the nearest door, amazed that her wobbly legs carried her out of the ballroom. Once in the hall, she hastily shrugged off the red cloak that seemed to be choking her, slumped her back against the wall, and gulped air.
She mustn’t swoon. Closing her eyes, she willed her heart to slow and the floor to cease rocking.
It worked. After a minute she no longer felt like she might faint … but it took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep from bursting into tears.
How could she have been so terribly wrong about Alex? Had she been so desperate to believe that someone needed and cared for her that she’d fallen into bed with the first man who’d paid her a compliment or two?
She’d thought that what they’d shared was real. But he’d lied to her. Perhaps, as they’d made love, he’d been chuckling at the irony of it all. He’d dubbed her a wallflower and then bedded her.
And if he’d been bold enough to lie about this, who knew what other falsehoods he’d told? He might have exaggerated the story about his parents’ death to gain her sympathy. He might have seduced her so she’d cooperate with his plan to move his grandmother to the country. And at every turn, she had willingly, nay, eagerly taken him at his word.
He could have confessed the truth and she most likely would have forgiven him. But instead, he’d played her for the fool.
Now, in the wake of Mr. Coulsen’s revelation, she felt beyond humiliated.
For only the most naïve sort of person would ever believe in dragons.
She swiped at her eyes. Whatever magic the masquerade had once held for her was lost. She had no wish to return to the ballroom, but she had little choice in the matter. The dowager would be looking for her, as would her sisters and Uncle Alistair, and she couldn’t worry them by disappearing for the rest of the evening.
The worst part was that, in spite of his betrayal, Beth couldn’t completely turn her back on Alex either.
His deception made her question everything … but tonight, she’d do what she could during the ball to help expose his would-be killer.
Because while he might not deserve her love, he did not deserve to die.
She would go to her bedchamber, splash a bit of cold water on her face, and gather herself for no more than a quarter of an hour. Then she would return to the ballroom and carry on, pretending that she wasn’t hollow inside—and that her foolish heart hadn’t shattered into a million tiny pieces.
* * *
After spending much of the last hour watching Haversham and the gypsy engage in drunken amorous activities on the verandah, Alex felt the need to scrub his eyes. Or at the very least, have a strong drink.
But he could not let down his guard, especially as the evening grew late and the guests grew more raucous. At that very moment, the killer could be drinking his champagne, gliding across his dance floor, or, God forbid, talking with his grandmother.
Moving briskly, Alex stalked to the meeting spot on the mezzanine and immediately scanned the throng below, sure that he’d be able to spot Beth from that vantage point. But he saw no sign of her bright red cape. He gripped the railing tightly and checked again. Surely, she wouldn’t have left the ballroom.
Her sisters were both on the dance floor. Her uncle viewed the festivities from one of the chairs along the wall, not far from where Alex’s grandmother also sat. But Beth was not beside either of them, so where was she? And who was she with?
Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, he scanned the crowd again, this time looking for Coulsen. Alex had defended him to Darby, but the way his cousin had been looking at Beth made Alex want to punch something—or someone. Maybe he’d been too hasty to dismiss him as a suspect.
Alex spotted the knight with a group of other young bucks near the refreshment table. He stood slightly apart from his companions and wore a somber expression that Alex hoped resulted from being soundly rejected by Beth.
But Alex no longer trusted him.
He checked his pocket watch. Darby was five minutes late, and neither he nor Newton seemed to be in the ballroom, which meant he’d likely followed Newton somewhere, and Alex needed to find both of them—quickly, just in case Newton was up to no good.
There were five ways to exit the ballroom. Alex could eliminate the verandah as a possible point of departure, which left the main doors, the side door, the tea room, and a back staircase.
He left the mezzanine and headed toward the back staircase, looking for Darby’s black scarf—and any sign of trouble.