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Bastard.
“What is going on here?” Lord Birchley glanced over at the woman. “Oh. You’re aMusgrave.”
Cillian didn’t know what that meant but it sent murmurs through the crowd.
“What more can you expect?” someone else said.
“They shall have to wed,” another muttered.
Irving tore from Cillian’s grip. “I caught them together,” he said.
“No!” the young woman cried, coming to Cillian’s side. “That’s not true.”
Lord Birchley brought a quizzing glass to his eye and glanced her up and down. “Well, your dress tells another tale, young lady.”
Cillian glanced at the cleavage barely constrained by her ruined dress and cursed under his breath. He swiftly shucked off his jacket and threw it over her shoulders. It seemed to swallow her, and she shrank into it as though using it as a shield from the disapproval of this group.
“I caught them together,” repeated Irving, thrusting a finger at Cillian and joining the group. “He was the one who ruined her.”
“And what precisely are you going to do about this then, Hartwood?” Lord Birchley demanded.
“It’s not true,” this Musgrave woman argued. “It was—”
Cillian lifted a hand, and she closed her mouth. He knew where this was going. Either the truth would come out and she’d be forced to marry the bastard that was Humphrey Irving, or she’d be ruined entirely.
There was one other option, though.
Taking a breath, he eyed the group calmly. “The young lady and I have an understanding. There is no scandal here because we are in fact...” He looked to the lady and hoped she’d forgive him for choosing her fate one day. “We are engaged,” he finished.
Chapter Two
The door to the parlor room creaked open and Ivy braced herself, twirling a curl furiously around one finger. Another footman with another scandal sheet bearing her name? A letter from the Duke of Daventry wanting to know the truth of the matter? Or perhaps one of Mama’s friends come to get the gossip.
A cat slunk in. White with a long stretch of black by his nose, the cat reminded everyone of a well-heeled gentleman and acted as such too. Without sparing Ivy or her sisters a glance, Simon leapt onto the windowsill and licked a paw as though he had always belonged in the room.
“What’s Uncle Simon doing here?” Violet demanded, thrusting a finger the cat’s way as she paused her pacing by the fireplace. “If he’s here, then Aunt Sarah—”
“My dears!” The door swung fully open, revealing Aunt Sarah, her arms spread wide. “I came as quickly as a I could.” She paused briefly to give Clementine a swift kiss on the cheek, Lilly a little hand squeeze, and Violet some sort of shared look.
From her position upon the sofa, surrounded by her sisters, none of whom could cease pacing, Ivy could not tell what the look meant.
Aunt Sarah tugged the purple turban from her head and shook out her gloriously long gray hair before coming to stand in front of Ivy. She opened up her arms and Ivy’s chin wobbled. It was no good. She wasn’t as strong as her sisters. She could not handle all the gossip and vile words. Moving swiftly to her feet, she threw herself into her aunt’s embrace.
Aunt Sarah enveloped her into her hold, her pelisse cool against Ivy’s cheek. Her aunt smelled of fresh air and a little damp and it made Ivy long to be outside, in the rain even, instead of in the stifling parlor room facing too many questions. Her sisters meant well and were worried. No doubt they thought they were rallying for her, but her parents had the better idea. She needed time and space to think on her future.
Slowly, Aunt Sarah released her, took Ivy’s face briefly in her hands and gave her a gentle smile. “Your cousins send their love and also their husbands if needs be.”
Ivy opened her mouth.
“We already have Roman and Duke threatening to call the blaggard out,” Violet said.
“He’s not a blaggard,” Ivy murmured.
“Where are your parents?” Their aunt asked the room in general. “I could do with speaking with them.”
Clementine sank onto the armchair near the fire. Pregnancy suited her redheaded sister, making her skin glow a beautiful pink. Although her belly was only slightly rounded, Clementine cradled it carefully. None of them had anticipated within a year Clementine would be married and expecting a child, but she’d never seen her fidgety sister so content. She’d finally found her calling it seemed.
Well, she’d been content until now. Until this disaster with Viscount Hartwood.
