He only spared her a glance, sighing. “Ah, Amelia. Good morning. I trust you slept well?”
Frowning, she sat down in her usual seat opposite Clara. “I slept well enough. But why is
everybody so quiet? Clara, I thought you would pepper me with questions as surely as the cook peppers the vegetables slightly too heavily in the soup.”
She laughed but nobody else laughed with her, and that was when Amelia turned to her mother for answers.
Bernadette’s face was pale, her mouth quivering. In her hand was a crumpled sheet of paper,
clenched tightly. Her shoulders were tense, her knuckles white.
“Mother?” Amelia asked, concerned. “Is everything well? Have you received terrible news?” Her thoughts went to her mother’s parents, having retired to the Cheltenham countryside. Her stomach turned at the thought of anything ailing her grandparents. Amelia reached out to touch her mother’s hand. “Mother?”
But Bernadette’s eyes continued to read over the page in her hand, and it was upon closer inspection that Amelia realized what her mother read. It was a scandal sheet, and with how her mother appeared, that could only mean one thing.
It spoke of the Hawthornes due to Amelia’s dance with the most terribly rumored man in the ton.
“Such lavish sights were seen at Lady Smith’s residence only last night, as the ton took to the dance floor for one of the first balls of the Season’,” her mother read aloud, her voice wavering. “‘However, thisauthor could not help but notice that all eyes were on one lady in particular. One lady that has often slipped through the notice of many—and yet how could she? Rumours suggest the meek, timid nature of one Miss Hawthorne has been a ploy all along. After all, the sudden captured interest of the Duke of Blackthorn could not be so easily won.’’
“‘Five years, His Grace has locked himself away in Blackthorn House, reclusive and guarded from everybody. So what is it about Miss Hawthorne that has captured his eye? When overlooked by every other suitor, how has this quiet-natured lady who barely saw three dances last Season secured one with the ton’s very own Beastly Duke? Could it be that she would endure his hideous scarring in order to gain the fortune that would come with her marriage into the family? Could this lady have a much more sinister intent?’”
“Heavens,” Clara whispered, her eyes wide. “That is not true, sister. Do not listen to such wretched gossip.”
But Bernadette continued, her voice more and more faint. Amelia wanted to ask her mother not to read on, for the words were already making the room spin, and her stomach grow sick. No wonder her father’s breakfast was untouched. Amelia did not feel like reaching even for a cup of tea.
“‘Dear people of the ton, I wish to be so bold as to describe Miss Hawthorne as a scheming seductress, a fortune hunter, for why else would she stay quiet in the face of so many eligible men, only to speak up when His Grace is present? And if that is the case, I would recommend that she stays far, far away, and focus her greedy eyes on another eligible suitor. For we all know the Duke of Blackthorn’s past and that night five years ago. Duels can come and go in secret but this one shall always be remembered for its tragedy. Is it possible the duke’s heart is black? And is it possible that his curse might follow the Hawthornes to their own ruin?’”
“That is enough.” Amelia’s father cut into the account of the gossip sheet, and even though Bernadette’s face had paled and paled, Amelia knew she had continued to read to warn Amelia of what the ton said. It was better to hear it now rather than on the streets of London or at another ball.
Her heart sank. She envisioned every prominent family of the ton reading that sheet, possibly in that same moment. She imagined Cassandra and Beatrice greedily eating up the words as surely as they did their breakfast. And then—Heavens,had His Grace read it?
Her stunned silence continued as her mother spoke.
“Now, you see, Edward. This would be no advantageous match. It shall bring us ruin, and only that. Amelia is not appealing to any suitor now. Our gossiper has labeled her as cursed as His Grace is.”
“She did not say so specifically,” Elizabeth pointed out. “It was heavily implied, of course, but notspecified.”
“And we inhabit a society that thrives upon speculation and hearsay,” Clara retorted, dramatically exclaiming as she pressed her arm to her forehead in a theatrical manner. “Our sister is ruined!”
“Clara,” Edward said sternly. “Do not say such things. Bernadette, you spoke with the dowager duchess herself. Surely she would know of her son’s past, and how it would affect us, yet you said she remained eager and impressed with Amelia. Does that not say something?”
“Of course it does,” Bernadette answered. “But we cannot bring a curse to our family! His Grace’s reputation is stained, while Amelia hangs by a thread for her third Season. Amelia, dear, I am sorry to say it so bluntly but it is true. We cannot afford any risks.”
Amelia’s vision went hazy, and she felt as though she was not entirely in the room. Her hands clenched in the folds of her pink simple dress. Her tongue was sand in her mouth, her thoughts heavy. She recalled her father’s saddened words that he would be forced to find an older, desperate gentleman who had no hope of winning the hand of a young lady in a ballroom, so therefore had to be arranged to marry one against her will. It happened often, but Amelia did not want that. She could not resign herself to that.
Like a mirror, Amelia’s happy daze after her night, of dancing and laughing, of even muttering about Lord Percival’s annoying manners, it all shattered. Only dread crept through her heart. She wished to defend His Grace but she recalled that even Beatrice had warned Cassandra against the Duke of Blackthorn.
“Do you see this list of accusations?” Bernadette asked, her voice hushed, despite the entire table hearing her. She waved the sheet. “It is horrendous.Murder, Edward. How can we allow Amelia to have even danced with him?”
“Those rumours have circulated for years. Pay it no mind!”
“WhydidHis Grace hide away in his countryside estate for so long after the duel that night?” Clara piped up, not entirely helping the situation. “Guilty people hide, do they not?”
“Innocent people also might have to hide,” Elizabeth piped up. “For they know that the situation looks terrible and they will not be believed.”
“I think I would always protest my innocence,” Clara muttered.
Elizabeth sniggered. “Then you are foolish, Clara.”
