“They might!” Leo said, throwing his arms up into the air as if he had given up at trying to make Winston see logic. “The Bow Street Runners chased us to Mayfair last time, Winston. They probably suspect that the vigilantes attacking members of thetonthat harm women are members of thetonthemselves. It would not take a genius to put two-and-two together. How else would we even know about these men’s crimes?”
Winston’s mouth had gone dry. But after a moment or two, he shook his head. “No one will think it is me,” he said, shaking his head. “Not when I was merely defending my betrothed from a lecherous and cruel man.”
Leo did not look convinced. “That is exactly what the Vigilantes of Virtue do as well.”
“The what?” Winston snorted.
“The Vigilantes of Virtue,” Leo repeated, a note of sarcasm in his voice. “I know, it is a stupid name. Believe me, I was not the one to give us that moniker, but it is what the newspapers are calling us.” He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a piece of newspaper, which he handed to Winston. “Look: they have written about us again.”
It was a short article, and it didn’t go into many details about the attack against Lord Tallow. Probably they did not want to admit that someone had knocked a member of Parliament out cold—it would only give the working class ideas—but the article did mention the letter that had been left with Lord Tallow’s unconscious body, detailing his many crimes against the women in his life.
We cannot know for sure if these accusations are true,the author of the article had written,but one thing we can surmise is that the Vigilantes of Virtue are not done defending the helpless women of London’s most fashionable set.
Slowly, Winston folded up the article and handed it back to Leo. “I suppose it has a certain ring to it,” he said. “The Vigilantes of Virtue…”
“Do not make light of this,” Leo snapped. “We could get into very serious trouble for this. And you are only drawing attention to us, to yourself, by picking a fight with Lord Langdon.”
“I didn’tpicka fight—” Winston began indignantly, but Leo just shook his head.
“Now all of Mayfair will know that you are not above violence.”
“They already know that.”
“But now they have seen it. And do not forget—it is thought that Lord Tallow was also choked by his assailants. It says so in the article.”
Winston’s mouth twisted in momentary annoyance. That was an unfortunate coincidence. As it was, he hadn’t choked Lord Tallow. He had merely dealt him a blow to the head that had knocked him out, after the man had said that his wife deserved the beating he had given her the week before.
“Fine,” he said at last. “I will try to be more careful. From now on, I will restrain myself from meting violence upon Lord Langdon. Although if he threatens Lady Vanessa again, I cannot make any promises.”
“Just be careful,” Leo said with a sigh. “If you are caught and sent to prison, you will not be able to help anyone. Including the future Duchess of Thornfield.”
“You are right.” Winston turned and began to walk back along the street, more slowly this time, and his friend hurried to fall in step beside him.
“You are going to get kicked out of White’s,” Leo said after a moment. “I guarantee it.”
Winston chuckled. “Then I expect you will resign as well in a show of solidarity.”
Leo sighed. “This friendship has only ever led me into danger and disgrace. Tell me again, why do I remain your closest friend and confidant?”
“Because you know the secret I know,” Winston said, throwing his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “That the world is cruel and unforgiving to those without power—and so it is up to those of us with power to right its wrongs. Or at least, to try.”
Leo sighed and nodded. “I do know that,” he said. “But sometimes, I wish you also knew that there is softness and goodness in the world, and it is worth clinging to as well.”
Winston scoffed. “I have yet to see any evidence of that.”
“But you will,” Leo said softly, almost to himself. “You will.”
It had been three days since Vanessa had become betrothed to the Duke of Thornfield.
Three days since the announcement had appeared in the morning papers.
And three days since her life had changed forever.
Ever since her debut, Vanessa much preferred to blend into the background than to stand out. But now that she was to be Duchess of Thornfield, she no longer could.
People expected things from her now—to be an active and present member of Society who used her power and privilege to bestow favors upon others—and if there was one thing these last three days had made clear, it was that Vanessa was not ready.
Even now, as she stood on the edge of the dance floor at the Darkworths’ Ball, she was at a loss as to what to do. Several young ladies were crowded around her, asking her opinion on the most recent scandals, and she had no idea how to respond.
