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Chapter Thirty-Four
“Is she unwell?” Nicholas asked Lady Digby who appeared unconcerned about her daughter running out of the room.
The dowager viscountess’s face was stony. “Perhaps her heart is breaking, Your Grace. What you said to her is enough to shatter her heart.”
“If this is an attempt to make me feel guilty, then you are mistaken in your approach. You and your daughter are my past. You don’t belong here.”
"Are we truly in your past?" Lady Digby returned with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and up the rolled paper from the table. "The shadows of our actions tend to remain constant in our lives, Your Grace. Embrace the inevitable with Vanessa in her rightful place by your side. There can be no other way."
"You should have thought of that before you stole away like thieves in the night. Now, thanks to your reckless actions, this marriage you speak of was never consummated, and as such holds no grounds according to the law. Whereas my current marriage..." he trailed off, pushing down that voice in his head that was trying to remind him otherwise.
"Are we really going down that route, Your Grace?"
For the first time since his arrival that afternoon, he had the upper hand. "I merely state the obvious, Lady Digby."
"Very well," she brushed invisible lint from her skirt, “I am sure the gossip columns would appreciate a change from the Viscount of Down's usual scandals."
Vanessa returned to the room looking more like herself. “Are you well?” Nicholas asked.
She shot him a glare. “You deny me attention and now you seek to know if I am well?”
Nicholas shrugged. This was not the first time a woman swooned or took ill because he did not want her in his life. He stood with the intention of taking his leave but not before his final words to them.
"You claim to love your daughter yet you want to risk her reputation by fighting me."
"Oh, I won't be risking her reputation. I would be opening society's eyes to your true nature as a man that disregards his responsibilities, a man who doesn't care about how negatively his selfish decisions impact others. Society shall get my daughter the justice she deserves."
"Good." He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time before proceeding to the door. He'd heard enough and protracting the conversation wouldn't change the fact that he had brought this upon himself. The only thing left to do was find a way to clean the situation up.
"Nicholas, please." Vanessa rushed to him, consternation drawing every muscle of her face taut.
"Have a good day, ladies." He tried to wrest his arm free of her grasp.
"Let him go, Nessa dear," Lady Digby called, "the gossip sheets are being written by vultures and we shan't wait for him forever."
As Nicholas departed the Whittakers’ residence, the truth in the dowager viscountess's words sank in and he realized that there was only one way out of this. However damning it might be.
* * *
"Jenny! What a pleasant surprise!" Daphne beamed, immediately abandoning the lace flowers she’d been sewing onto a dress on a mannequin to envelope her in a hug. "Why did you not tell me you were going to call?"
Jenny was glad to find Daphne buried in a surfeit of fabrics and accessories. Keeping herself occupied was better than crying over how her father’s scandals were affecting her. And she was doing something she loved.
"I wanted to see how you are, Daph.Trulysee how you are. Announcing my intention would have defeated the aim," Jenny replied, glancing around her friend’s workroom.
It was a shame genteel women were not allowed to trade because Daphne had a real dressmaking talent. At least, she wore some of her lovely creations. "You wanted to catch me with my defenses down,” Daphne said, pulling away and returning to the mannequin.
"Did I succeed?" The pain she had seen in Daphne’s eyes the other day resurfaced but she quickly turned away, taking a lace flower from a small basket and placing it on the cummerbund. After giving it an assessing look, she shook her head and replaced it in the basket.
"It doesn’t fit.” She turned toward Jenny now. “I should ring for tea.”
"You should," Jenny encouraged, knowing that the girl was only seeking a distraction.
“Let’s sit, Jenny.” She motioned toward a sofa on one side of the room.
"How are you, Daph?" Jenny asked after she had ordered their tea and sat down beside her.
Looking down at her interlaced fingers, she sighed before answering. "I confronted Papa…” When she paused, Jenny didn’t press her to continue. Instead, she took her hand and squeezed it to reassure her.
