Chapter Twenty-Six

Gregory didn’t hear a word any of the partygoers said to him as he circled the ballroom, desperate for the clock to strike midnight so he could leave. Julia had all but begged for him to say he loved her, and in his weakness he’d nearly capitulated. But that would only have made her cling tighter to him than before, and then he could never leave. Leaving was essential to his plan. He had to protect her. He had to safeguard his own sanity.

“You seem to be without your Cinderella, Ashworth.”

Huntington emerged from out of the crowd as multiple young ladies’ heads turned in the wake of his passage. The duke had donned a version of a huntsman costume, though most rugged hunters did not wear capes of rich green velvet. More was the pity for them.

“And you’re without your…whatever you are,” Gregory replied.

“The woodsman from that story with the red-hooded girl.”

“Interesting choice. Surprised you didn’t elect to be someone’s perfect prince.” There were loads of princes in fairy stories, after all. Gregory thought that in the world of a fairy tale, a prince was more common than a really good baker, and far less necessary.

“There are plenty of wolves here tonight, both in and out of costume,” the duke drawled. “I prefer to keep the most despicable members of the ton nervous.”

Gregory laughed as they watched the dancers turn about the ballroom. Huntington was a rare one, a man of high rank and wealth who despised society almost as much as Gregory himself did. If Julia were here, she’d be delighted by the duke’s observations and probably make a few pointed ones of her own. But she was off with Susannah, probably, taking some air and wrestling her disappointment with the man she’d married.

“I know Percy already spoke with you,” Huntington said.

“Then you know nothing will change my mind.”

“Men like us are raised by society to be careless of what we own.” The other duke charged valiantly ahead, nevertheless. “With good reason; almost everything we possess can be replicated again. A house can burn down, or a horse can die, and another can be bought or built. We can purchase more land, and we can all but pay to have any wife of our choosing delivered to us.”

“Yes. Wealth does increase feminine ardor, in my experience,” Gregory said. Now he wanted to get away from talking to his friend and find something more pleasant to do. Like drinking himself into oblivion.

“But you can’t buy the love of an excellent woman.” Huntington’s gaze was particularly cutting. “Once you lose that, you may never find it again.”

“Worry about finding and losing your own duchess, friend. My affairs are mine alone.”

The two dukes had been at school and university together, and over the years Gregory had borne witness to Huntington’s especially charmed life. His parents’ marriage had been filled with love and joy, and they had lavished affection upon their son and his two sisters. The old duke’s death seven years past had been painful for his friend, but Gregory saw the inheritance of a substantial dukedom as serious compensation. Even with all these gifts, Huntington preferred to remain aloof and uncatchable. He’d marry when he chose, probably to a woman of grace and beauty who loved him as he loved her.

Huntington, like Percy, had good intentions but no comprehension of the real issues at play. Even though Huntington knew of Gregory’s struggles with his family, he’d never truly understand.

“You really are a damnably stubborn ass.” Huntington sounded testy. “I’ve half a mind to call you to a duel this instant, just to shock some sense into you.”

“Never threaten a duel in idleness, Hunt. Wait until you’ve a lovely young bride and I’ve debauched her. You’ll be grateful you saved calling me out for just such a moment.”

“Perhaps you need to be bashed around the ears a few times,” Huntington growled. Gregory walked away, not caring a toss if it was rude or not. He stalked through the party, temples throbbing as he considered finding Julia and planting himself at her side for the rest of the night. At least then his friends wouldn’t come up one by one to berate him for his failings as a husband. They’d too much tact for that, and Gregory had long believed that only fools valued tact.

“Oh! Your Grace?” A woman halted in front of him so suddenly that Gregory nearly bashed into her.

“May I help you?” He didn’t know the lady for a moment, as she’d donned the most purple wig he’d ever seen. She was also outfitted in a pale lavender gown with a pair of bright gossamer wings attached. Within a moment, however, he recognized her as Lady Beaumont. As if the night hadn’t been painful already. “I see. Playing the Fairy Godmother tonight, are we, my lady? Forgive me for saying so, but supernatural benefactor never seemed to be your role in this particular tale.” But Lady Beaumont wasn’t in the mood for his jests.

“Please. I need help locating my Susannah. It seems she’s escaped from the ballroom; she really is the most headstrong girl.” Lady Beaumont tittered, but the quick flap of her fan and the strain in her voice belied how confident she sounded. “I’m not concerned, you understand, only I do know how society loves to gossip. I should hate for her reputation to be in any way tarnished.”

“Of course.” Gregory smirked. “Then you wouldn’t be able to use the girl as a grappling hook to climb the very pinnacles of society.”

Lady Beaumont appeared horrified, the first truly authentic reaction Gregory had ever seen from her.

“We may not get on well, Your Grace, but I hope you don’t think me the sort of mother who wants to see her daughter shunned and mocked. Susannah’s a terribly gentle soul; it would wound her to her very core.”

The woman might be a brittle fool, but Gregory couldn’t deny that she loved Susannah. Gregory sighed, feeling a bit caddish now.

“Perhaps your daughter is with my wife. They are so close, after all,” he said.

“The duchess is gone, too.” Lady Beaumont’s irritation was growing more pronounced.

“Then I should think they are together.”

“Find her. Please, Your Grace? Please find Susannah.” Lady Beaumont fluttered her fan so quickly it was a miracle she didn’t knock herself back with a heavy gust of wind.

“Very well, madam. I’ll do so at once.”

He bowed and made a hasty departure. As Gregory prowled along the corners of the ballroom, searching everyone in the crowd, a rather unpleasant idea began to itch at the back of his brain. He surveyed the sea of faces once more, looking for a particular man. He didn’t know what costume Mr. Campbell would be wearing, but Gregory doubted he’d have trouble recognizing the fellow. When you disliked someone so fiercely, you always seemed to know them at once.

Campbell wasn’t present, either.

While there was no real connection to make between these three absences, Gregory began to grow suspicious. His instincts were nearly as good as his wits, and he had the awful feeling that something unpleasant was occurring. He did not allow his emotions to show. Instead, he made his way out of the ballroom as discreetly as possible.

…

Julia’s damned shoes kept almost slipping from her feet as she dashed outside. Music floated on the wind overhead as she stole toward the queen’s gardens, her ears pricked for the slightest noise. She couldn’t very well go bashing around yelling for Susannah or Campbell. If anyone heard her calling for one or, God forbid, both of them, Susannah’s reputation would be shredded in a matter of seconds.

Thankfully, no one else was about as Julia hunted through the mazes of the hedgerows. Most of the flower buds were closed up for the night, sleeping softly beneath the moon. They saw nothing that went on; if only the rest of the ton operated on the same principle.

Julia was about to make her way back to where she’d started when she heard a soft gasp nearby.

“Stop! Stop! I-I’ll call for someone.”

It was Susannah’s voice, and despite its gentleness Julia could hear the panic laden within it. Even at her most volatile and angry, Susannah could never become truly threatening. She was too sweet for this viper’s pit of a society.

Julia’s heart knocked hard against her ribs. If anyone were to come this way, Susannah’s reputation would be gone in an instant.

Julia had no time to find a polite, quiet way around the dense row of bushes placed directly before her. She pushed through the vines, thankful that nothing caught at or ripped her frock.

Susannah gave a soft cry of despair as Julia appeared. The girl was caught in Campbell’s arms, and he’d pinned her against his body. Julia’s stepsister clearly did not welcome these advances. If anything, she was fighting the bastard off as valiantly as possible. She shoved against his shoulders, but couldn’t break free from his grip. One of the cap sleeves of her gown slipped down her arm, and her carefully arranged hair had begun to come apart in tangles about her face.

“Oh. You,” Campbell said, his triumphant smile vanishing when he realized the interloper was Julia instead of some random member of society.

“Julia!” Susannah gasped tearfully, finally breaking from Campbell’s grip. Julia gathered the girl to her, and felt Susannah trembling in her embrace.

“What did you do to her, you bastard?” Julia snapped. All propriety was slipping away, and she didn’t care. She’d swear at this terrible man all she wished, and then she might call him out to a duel on the spot. If he refused, Julia was more than happy to take one of Gregory’s pistols and go after the man anyway. So what if she were hanged? So what if women didn’t do that sort of thing? How dare he assault her stepsister’s innocence like this?

“I’ve done nothing to Miss Fletcher. Not yet, at any rate.” Campbell sounded utterly bored by her presence. “Come now, Julia. There’s no ill intent here.”

“That seems the opposite of what I saw.” Julia kept a sharp lookout. Now that she was here Susannah was a bit safer, but if they were all discovered the gossip would still be too delicious. To save Susannah, she had to get the girl away from this man. Quickly.

“He followed me outside. He wouldn’t stop hounding me.” Susannah gulped, trying to stabilize her voice. “Then when I thought I’d lost him, he came out of nowhere and tried to…”

The poor girl couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence, but Julia more than understood.

“Was it not enough that you nearly ruined my life? Did you have to attempt to destroy Susannah’s, too?”

“Any ruination would have been swift. She only needed to be compromised enough that she’d agree to a hasty marriage. Once we were wed, the ton would not have cared about pre-marital indiscretions.”

“Except that she does not and never will love you! When I think you couldn’t disgust me more, somehow you find a way.”

Campbell never lost his infuriating smirk, though his shoulders tightened. Julia was aggravating him, something she loved to do to terrible men. But more than her own fate hung in the balance now.

“I need to marry an heiress,” he said.

“Then find one!”

“But none of the other debutantes are as beautiful or rich as Miss Fletcher. Besides which, none of them are related to you, Julia.”

“And is that so important? You have to hound a woman who doesn’t want you merely to tweak my nose?” Julia was astonished at the insipid pettiness of this man’s mind.

“You’ll have to suffer an indignity every time you imagine Susannah in my arms. I assure you, that will be a sheer delight for me to envision.”

Julia’s stomach curdled, revolted at the thought of Campbell taking Susannah. She hoped her disgust was evident beneath the moonlight.

“She’s safe from you now,” Julia snapped. “I’m taking her away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

Susannah gasped as Campbell circled around them, blocking their exit. He was too large a man for Julia to successfully skirt past, especially if she had Susannah to look after.

“Then I shall scream!”

“Do it. I would like that very much, indeed.”

“I’ll tell them you’ve assaulted her. Frightened both of us! You’ll be turned away from every respectable door in town.” But Julia felt that her threats had no real weight behind them.

“That may be true, but it is also true that your stepsister will be compromised by the scandal. She will be an unmarriageable pariah as well.”

“I can live with that!” Susannah said, but Julia paused. She was older and more world-wearied than her stepsister. Susannah said right now that marriage did not appeal to her, but Julia wanted her to have every option in the world. One stupid moment when she was eighteen shouldn’t have a huge effect on the rest of her life, but it would if Julia did not protect her.

“You understand.” Campbell smiled at Julia’s evident frustration. “Enough with these pretenses.”

“Yes. Enough, indeed.”

Julia released Susannah and stepped toward Campbell with as much dignity as she could muster. Her stepsister cried out in horror at Julia’s seeming acquiescence to the man.

“So? No screaming?” Campbell grinned with his mockery. Julia imagined he delighted at having her meek and broken before him. But she would do anything at all to protect Susannah, and the girl could not be found here with a man in such a disheveled state.

“I shan’t scream, and neither will my stepsister.”

“Good.”

Julia peeked up at the man from beneath her eyelashes, a particularly feminine move that often worked in the novels she read. It seemed that the authors of garish romance knew their business; fire sparked in Campbell’s gaze.

“I must admit, I was disappointed when I learned you had no fortune,” he said to her. “I should have liked a wedding night with you.”

“I’ve learned much since marrying,” Julia admitted. “Including those spots most sensitive upon the male body.”

Julia had always been a tall woman, and was now properly glad of the fact as she kicked upward and connected her slippered foot to the center of Lucas Campbell’s trousers. She could not see much of his face in the semi-darkness, but what she did observe appeared twisted with agony. He bent over, breathing heavily, but then lunged at her. Julia kicked at him once again.

And this time, the glass slipper left her foot and went flying off into the darkness.

“Susannah! Go!” she hissed. Her petrified stepsister finally sprang into action and hurried off into the hedgerows. Julia could only hope the girl would have enough sense to stop and make herself presentable before she calmly returned to the party, but already her fears had lessened. Susannah would be safe now.

Unfortunately, Julia had to make her own escape while missing a shoe. There was no time to hunt for it as Lucas Campbell straightened himself and came at her like some furious bull.

“You damnable bitch! I will have satisfaction.”

And to think, she’d once considered him a gentleman. Julia evaded him and hurried away.

“I believe you’ve had enough satisfaction for one night,” she said over her shoulder. Julia realized that she’d become disheveled in their tussle, and began to furtively pat at her hair and tug at her clothes.

She stopped dead when a man appeared before her out of the garden.

“Julia.” Gregory didn’t seem horrified or furious, merely astonished to find her here. She winced as she heard Campbell come around the corner, knowing he’d be red-faced and excitable. She had no doubt what conclusions her husband would draw from this. “What on earth is going on?”

She could tell him what had transpired. He might even believe her. But it wouldn’t stop that little voice of self-congratulation he harbored. The part of him that would take this whole, awful ordeal as further proof that their marriage should end in all but name.

There was no way to fight against his certainty. With a frustrated cry, Julia simply rushed past him and out of the garden. She crossed the lawn, hoping she wouldn’t be seen so that she could order the carriage and go. The duchess left behind both the men who’d broken her heart.

A fitting end to the false fairy tale, indeed.