Authors: Multiple
Chapter Seventeen
Beth never heard
from her friend and she dared not arrive at Ariel's home without invitation. In
desperation, she simply stayed with the rented carriage after she dropped Adam
off at the university. She had enough money put aside in her frivolous
necessities fund so she negotiated a partial day and night from the carriage
driver.
Some foreboding
had been with her because she'd worn a ball gown hidden beneath her cloak as
though she'd known a predicament was imminent. Adam had never suspected, and
now she did need it, so it had been a good idea. She wondered about her hair,
but decided she would have plenty of time inside the carriage to fix it for a
ball.
"Really, I
just have no idea what I'm going to do with all this time," she said,
commiserating with herself. Then an idea formed and she got the driver's
attention, saying, "Take us to Arbor-Cannon Church."
She would seek
solace, something she very much needed to cool her thoughts and help temper the
evil she'd been so close to. Perhaps she might find an evening sermon there.
An hour later,
she did find a sermon from an inspiring rector whose voice alone filled her
with renewed hope. She remembered, as she sat in a pew toward the back of the
ornate church, that this rector and his church had been recommended to her. It
was the same one she'd told Adam about. "What providence," she
thought, clasping her hands together as she bowed her head in prayer.
One would think
she would pray for goodly outcomes to her circumstances, however, that wasn't
what she reverently petitioned for with increasing fervor.
Trinity.
He
was what she supplicated her soul for …
Please God, rip him from my thoughts
.
Take this hellacious need for him from me.
For all this
time, he was never far from her thoughts. She could still feel his
provocativeness and power pursuing her. She tried so hard not to think about
last night. The way he'd touched her. The way she'd allowed him to and even
arched her body toward him for more. It was indecent.
"Lady
Winslow?"
"Oh,"
Beth exclaimed, startled by the man's voice coming so close to her meditations.
She clutched a hand to her chest, looking up. She thought for a second it was
Trinity. She blinked several times. No, there was a goatee and the hair was
blonder and shorter, but the rector standing before her in the aisle was a
younger version of Trinity.
"I did not
mean to startle you," he said with a voice of velvet. This was the man whose
sermon so inspired her.
She should have
been demure before a man of the cloth, but she blurted, "How do you know
me?" Even as she asked the question, some remembrances were startling her.
"I know
your life must feel in turmoil now," he said, completely avoiding her
question, "However, I want you to know that God can comfort those of us
who seek."
"Thank you,
Father." Beth inhaled slowly, mesmerized by his words and their tone.
"I am
Father Christian, my lady. I hoped to also ask after your brother."
"Adam?"
she questioned stupidly. It came to her why Father Christian must know Adam …
know her. She gripped the top of the pew in front of her. Was Father Christian
a vampire? Everything inside of her screamed he was. Trinity's blood spoke of
it, throbbing in her veins.
"H-He's
fine," she managed through her shock.
A man of God?
"I am glad
to hear that, his devotion to you greatly impressed me."
Beth felt his
sincerity; he meant every word. She found it very hard to reconcile how he
acted with what he was. Trinity and his brother were opposites, like night and
day. Trinity was earthy and raw, where his brother was soulful and
compassionate. She realized suddenly that just because Trinity was a vampire
didn't mean his brother was. The thought relaxed her slightly as she looked at
his perfect handsomeness, where Trinity was edged and chiseled, but no less
handsome.
"I will
tell him you asked after him, if you like," she offered. For some reason,
she wanted to keep talking to him and she wished she really could speak to him
about everything.
"You must.
I would be grateful. Perhaps you can bring him with you here next time; I do
pray you will come back."
Later in the
carriage, on the way to the ball, Beth felt so much calmer. She was amazed at
how long she and Father Christian had spoken. She'd gotten brave enough to tell
him the drastic changes in her life which she was set upon. Not the why, just
that she was going to the ball with the intent of securing a position that
would take her far away from London.
Beth felt her
hair again with her fingers. She had no mirror to judge the style so she made a
very simple bun fixed toward the top of her head, and then she pulled a few
tendrils of her hair out around the sides of her temples.
"It's the
best I can do." The fact was she wasn't going to the ball because of the
party; she was going there on business. "Dire business," she expelled
the words with a rough voice. "Yet, I cannot let them see that."
Finally, the
carriage arrived and the Lancaster's footman opened the carriage door for her.
She left her cloak behind, stepping from the conveyance wearing a pale pink
gown that wasn't overly ornate, yet complemented her black hair and fair
complexion. She let go of the footman's helping hand and turned to speak up to
her carriage driver. It was considered an unrefined action for her to do such a
thing, however, she had to secure their bargain. She could be inside the ball
for hours trying to complete her mission.
Her driver was a
very friendly man and he assured her that he would be there when she needed
him. "Thank you so much," she said, smiling up at him, then she
turned to start walking toward the long set of steps reaching to the entrance.
Beth had not
gone very far when she started to notice strange occurrences. Anyone she nodded
to, which was what one did on promenade to the entrance, turned his or her gaze
away from her, without a concurring nod. One of the gentlemen turned to look at
her so strangely. He stared, then sweeping her with his gaze from head to toe,
until his gaze bore down, staying on her chest. She wanted to jerk her hands up
to cover herself. Gentlemen never looked at ladies that way.
An awful feeling
crept inside her with vague worries about the incident three nights past in the
woods. The only people that knew about it would
never
tell, she silently
admonished herself. If she thought there was the slightest hint anything about
that incident had gotten out, she'd never try to enter the ball, no matter how
desperate she was.
Yet only her
best friend Lady Ariel and her brother knew. The Blacknalls, of course, yet
they had more secrets to keep than the frivolity of her simple reputation. She
had to be imagining it. Of course, there was always a rake about, beside the
fact she'd never entered a ball unescorted before. Beth turned away to ignore
the leer as she began stepping up the steps to the entrance. She was nervous
and desperate, but she schooled her features to hide her churning emotions.
This
had
to work.
She saw many
acquaintances she knew, in the unconnected social ways most people rather knew
each other. All of them appeared busy as she passed them. There was no trite
small talk to be had, however; she was a woman on a mission. She barely caught
the finery adorning Lady Lancaster's home. She knew in the back of her mind it
was resplendent beyond compare, but where she might normally talk about it with
her lady friends all evening, this night her mind was far from finery and
decorations.
She purposely
did a social faux pas bypassing Lady Lancaster's greeting line. Beth was
certain no one would really notice, but she had to find Ariel. She was hopeful
to secure a place to stay with her and make certain the school's headmistress
was at the ball.
Later she might
think of it as if she'd been in the center of some theatrical play, Shakespeare
perhaps, definitely one of his heart-wrenching tragedies. Later, she would
never
think being a member of the high society
ton
was quite such a thing to
aspire to.
Beth approached
Lady Janine, one of her dear friends, having come out the same year Beth had.
"Lady Janine, it is so good to see you. Have you seen, Lady Ariel …"
Beth paused, looking at the back of Lady Janine's head, when she'd been
approaching her head on. Had Lady Janine just deliberately turned away from her?
The thought scattered through her mind, bringing a slight blush to her cheeks.
They were in the
ballroom where people milled around the edges, talking in smaller groups
leaving the center free for the dancing later on. Alarm stroked Beth's throat,
making it feel tight. She noticed the group of ladies Lady Janine stood with,
all glancing back at her as though she were a lecher trying to come closer, to
touch them. They all displayed furtive glances with gloved hands lifted to
their noses as if some foul odor assaulted them.
Beth stiffly
turned her back to them.
Oh heavens.
A feeling of panic started in her
stomach. Then through the blur sweeping her gaze, she saw Lord Henry Ridcliff.
He'd been one of her mother's close friends. He was only a few steps away and
she reached him with her hand outstretched.
"Lord
Henry," she said, barely hearing her own voice. She pushed harder.
"Lord Henry, if I could have a moment." However, Lord Henry looked
over his shoulder at her, then he obviously grimaced and proceeded to turned a
stiff back to her.
She felt
lightheaded and nauseous, grasping her stomach with one hand. No matter which
way she circled, the
ton
, many of them friends, were making a point to
look directly at her, and then pointedly turn their backs to her. They were
closing ranks, shutting her out. She swayed, hearing the words,
"Harlot" to one side of her, and then, "Naked. Fornicating.
Woods." Lastly, she heard quite clearly, "Montrose. Blacknall."
A wail wanted to
scream from inside her choked throat, where she held it by force. Tears burned
her eyes. She saw Lady Ariel across the room. Her dear face. Beth picked up her
skirts and started walking too fast toward Ariel. She never noticed the tall
and imposing figure coming toward her from the right. It seemed as if the
noises in the ballroom were rising cackles attacking her ears with united
sounds of distain.
"Lady
Winslow," a man's authoritative voice snapped beside her.
It was so loud,
she gasped … stopping her march toward the safety of her friend. Beth turned
with irritation toward the invasion. She was a spectacle and all she wanted to
do was shrink away, not become more of one. A tall man dressed in the finest
outfit of Lancaster's colors looked at her with a severe frown. It was a
Lancaster footman.
"Lady
Winslow, Lord and Lady Lancaster have ordered you to leave their ball
at
once
."
The man's voice
rang out across the ballroom, silencing the rising chatter of gossip flying
around the room. Beth heard a small whine in her throat. He could have simply spoken
to her quietly, not so loud everyone heard. Her desperate gaze searched for
Ariel. Why wasn't her friend by her side when her need was so dire? She saw
Ariel's delicate face looking aghast as their gazes clashed, but Ariel's aunt
forced her friend's body around to show her back. Beth really did feel as if
the entire room was swaying as shame brightened her cheeks.
"You
must
come with me now," the footman ordered and it appeared he relished being
able to speak to a lady so authoritatively. "
Now
," he snapped.
Beth felt as if
she would fall, if she were to take a step, even as badly as she wanted to flee
all the shame and ridicule being laid upon her. Was there no one to save her?
The footman grasped her arm with a painful grip.
Just then, a
voice rang out over the commotion, "Introducing the Duke of
Blacknall." Beth couldn't help hearing the caller announce the arrival
followed by the rap of the Lancaster's entrance cane. The attention in every
corner of the room turned as one toward the entryway into the ballroom and away
from her downfall.
"You're
hurting me," she advised the footman in a low insistent hiss. "Let me
go and I will …" The footman didn't let her finish as he yanked her
forward. She'd been mortified before, now she was horrorstruck.
Once again, the
caller's voice rose above the crowd, "Introducing the Lord Trinity,
Marquis Montrose and his fiancée, Lady Beth Winslow."
Rap. Rap. Rap.
"You
will
take your hands off the lady at once," a man's voice growled with serious
intent and authority. The footman quickly stopped manhandling her and released
his hurtful grip from her arm.
Beth raised her
gaze in shock as the provocative announcement ran throughout the room. She
swayed, nearly collapsing, then seeing Father Christian, who had saved her from
the vicious footman. He'd been so forceful, the sound of his voice so
commanding and she couldn't reconcile the comforting nature she knew him for
and the man who demanded her release.
"My
lady," he said with concern as he grabbed her about the waist with a
supporting arm. If he hadn't supported her, she'd have sunk to the floor, as
the implications of the announcement were slow to make any sense to her.
"Please,
Father, help me away from here," she pleaded with her voice mulled with
suppressed sobs.
"I think
you ought to stay for a few moments," Father Christian whispered to her,
holding her upright with a solid arm. Then he said, "Ah, here they come …
reinforcements."
Beth didn't want
to look at anything. She wanted to flee. The people of her social circle knew
every sordid detail of events she'd thought concealed. The facts were a young
woman was barely allowed to kiss a gentleman without disproportionate scandal,
much less be carried out of the woods, half-naked, and by a gentleman of such
dubious character. She was ruined.