Page 67 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

“God no.” He bent his head down to hers. His cheek brushed over her hair. “He’s a newspaperman. An editor at the London Courant, and a well-respected one, at that. For the past year, he’s been investigating abuses in the management of private asylums.”

She stiffened.

“Easy,” he murmured. His hand moved up the curve of her back. “Just listen to me.”

He was gentling her into submission, like a high-strung horse being readied for the bridle. She wasn’t entirely sure she liked it.

“Pelham has been documenting cases of wrongful confinement. Cases where family members have paid to have a relation put away in order to gain control of their money or property. Finchley believes that, when Pelham’s editorial is published, there will be mass outrage. He expects it to instigate some sort of reform.”

She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“If you would talk to Pelham—if you would agree to an interview—he would feature your story along with the others. Once the details of what your uncle has done are made public—”

This time she did draw back, but only far enough to look in Justin’s eyes. “You can’t possibly think that would work!”

“I think it might.”

“My uncle would never permit such a story to be published. He’d bring suit against the paper or shut down the printers—or worse. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“What I know,” Justin said, “is that your uncle has shown a marked interest in concealing his crimes. He wants to keep what he’s done to you his own filthy secret, even to the extent of offering me a bribe to remain quiet about our marriage.”

“What?”

“The point is, he doesn’t wish to have his name dragged through the mud. He doesn’t want to take a chance that the tide of public opinion will turn against him. Which is precisely why you need to tell your story to the press. When coupled with all the rest of the cases Pelham has dredged up, people will have to believe it. And when they do—when your uncle is exposed—he won’t dare attempt to meddle with you or your money again.”

She huffed. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It won’t be. You’ll have to share some of the more unpleasant details of your ordeal with Pelham. He’ll want to know everything about you.”

“So he can publish it, for all of London to see?”

“That’s the idea.”

Her stomach clenched at the thought of it. She envisioned her former acquaintances reading the sordid tale at the breakfast table or in the smoke-filled lounges of their clubs. She imagined groups of fashionably clad ladies tittering about it over tea and biscuits. Pitying her. Laughing at her.

Her mouth went dry. “Must we go there? Couldn’t Mr. Pelham come here?”

“Regrettably, no. People will need to witness you out and about. That’s where the balls and the theatre come in. It will give them a chance to see that there’s nothing irregular about your behavior. Then, when the editorial is published, they’ll be more inclined to believe you.”

She took a deep breath. It did absolutely nothing to quell her rising sense of panic. “I can’t do it, Justin.”

“Why not?”

“For a lady to expose herself in such a way…to make a spectacle of herself for the public’s amusement…” Everything within her recoiled at the thought. “It isn’t decent.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “You’re worried about your reputation?”

“Yes,” she said. And then, “No.” She focused on the topmost button of his waistcoat, watching it blur before her eyes as unshed tears clouded her vision. “It’s all just so shameful. I can’t bear for anyone else to know.”

His hand tightened at the curve of her waist. She could feel the weight and warmth of it through the layers of silk and corsetry, settling like a brand against her skin. “It’s not meant to shame you, Helena. It’s meant to set you free.”

“By robbing me of what’s left of my dignity.”

He was silent for several seconds. “I’ll be with you,” he said at last. “If that’s any consolation.”

She lifted her eyes back to his. “You can’t want to go to London. Not for this.”

“Not particularly, no. But it’s not forever. A few weeks inconvenience, merely. It will be over before you know it.”