Page 96 of Miss Delancey’s Tragicomedy

“Eloped! They think I scarpered off with the chit to guard my purse?” Dessie’s slap was nothing compared to this body blow. How could anyone believe him to be that petty? That vile?

At least, he’d caught enough of the tail end of the debate to know Lynch and Eli had stood by him, yet again. His gaze shifted to Miss Delancey. Her face was pale and head lowered. She had believed it.

To his horror, Lynch wasn’t finished. “Unfortunately, that’s just the beginning. Dessie and Ophelia went to the train station to try to stop you. But they learned you hadn’t gone to Scotland. Rather, you went to Lannington.” He added, “Supposedly.”

“It’s what the ticket seller told us,” Dessie said. “You bought tickets to Gretna Green, but then also used a woman to help you secretly buy tickets to Southampton.”

This was eviscerating. He took three steps backward and groped behind for a chair. Then sat heavily. Curled forward. Pulled his hand through his hair. “So, you concluded I lured Lady Elizabeth to the train station with the promise of a wedding over the anvil, only to switch the destination to Lannington, where I couldn’t have had the slightest intention of marrying her before nightfall?”

And Miss Delancey believed this? Anger, humiliation, despair—a sickening stew of emotions roiled him. This was what she thought of him? The devil take her.

“Well, Robin!” Dessie fumed. “Do you think the ticket seller was lying? Don’t you think that would be an awfully elaborate story to make up on the spot? And why would he have chosen Southampton? He wouldn’t have known your estate was close by! Explain that!”

“I can’t.”

With admirable calm, Lynch said, “Let’s think this through. Start again from the beginning. You affianced yourself to Lady Elizabeth? Is that much true?”

He nodded dumbly.

Eli spoke up. “He did it to spare Lady Townes.” When all eyes turned to him, Eli said, “Sorry, Robin, but they should know. Barrington has influence over the judges on the Divorce Court. He threatened to ruin her if Robin didn’t agree to wed Lady Elizabeth.”

Miss Delancey’s quietly groaned “oh” grated on his heart. He didn’t want her sympathy. He wanted her trust.

“Robin is not an idiot,” Lynch said. Which Trentham appreciated, though he couldn’t agree. “If Felicity’s case is at stake, he’s not going to do something that would infuriate Barrington more.” He paused, shaking his head angrily, then asked, “So, what happened next?”

Next? Next, he was accused of abduction. By the Delancey sisters.

Eli said, “Last night, Mr. Derry contacted Robin. He wanted to meet this morning.” Eli faced him. “What did you learn?”

“This morning?” Trentham’s voice rasped. That was forever ago. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Felicity will be fine. Derry found—he found Sir George has debts.” Rubbing his hands on his thighs, he said, “I can elaborate later. The point is, there will be no divorce.”

Quiet met that declaration. Stunned quiet. He supposed it didn’t help his defense. Felicity’s case wasn’t at stake. He could afford, now, to infuriate Barrington.

Lynch began again. “Who else, besides Derry, has seen you today? Here, in London.”

“My sister. Her two neighbors. And at least a dozen fellows at Pratt’s.”

Lynch broke into a smile. “So Felicity is spared a trial. And Barrington can’t possibly accuse you of eloping with his daughter. This is good news.”

“Ah. True.” He should be thanking God, but he was benumbed. He still felt accused. He heard Gilliam’s voice, bellowing in the courtroom. Dissolute rake. Fanny’s sobs. The bang of the gavel. The whispers in the street. Moral degenerate. His father’s cold rebuke.

Did he deserve this? Still? He didn’t see himself as dastardly. He’d been trying to convince the ton that he was not. But…but was he? Had his good behavior all been an act? Was his true nature caddish? He’d taken liberties with Miss Delancey.

Was he no better than his randy twenty-year-old self?

“What about Lady Elizabeth?” Dessie said. “She is gone.”

“I don’t know!” Trentham snapped. “She ran off, I suppose.” The girl was that desperate not to marry him. Gad! The room was hot and close. He needed to open a window. Loosen his collar.

“She didn’t simply ‘run off’,” Miss Delancey said, drawing his eyes to her against his will. Her face was tense, not angry, but tense. “She eloped. There was a man with her. The ticket seller saw him. So, who was with her, and why would they go to your estate?”

“How the hell should I know? Or are you accusing me now of hiring a bullyboy to carry her off?” He couldn’t stop himself from throwing out the angry words.

“Of course not.” She threw up her hands. “We’re just trying to make sense of this.”

“Do you think they were trying to make Lord Barrington suspect Trentham?” Dessie asked, apparently now converted to his side. “The note she left for her parents didn’t name the man. It just said ‘we.’ I’m sure that was deliberate.”

Again, silence fell. But Trentham’s brain began to engage. Pieces of the puzzle slipped into place. “Not Lannington. They weren’t trying to be obfuscating. They did go to Southampton.” He stood abruptly and started pacing, skirting the end tables and chairs, moving away from his audience, toward the wall. He’d been so self-absorbed he hadn’t seen what was right beneath his nose. Thinking aloud, spinning to face them, he said, “She wasn’t giving me the cut direct at your dinner party. She was entranced by Hayworth.”