“Yes,” Margaret lied feeling the rush of heat up her neck at the memory of Elysium. “It was only a kiss.”
A horrid cackle left her aunt. “Only a kiss? You’ve been compromised. No one thinks you shared only a kiss with the Earl of Welles. I saw your face when you returned to the ballroom. And the mark on your neck. Thankfully the duchess interrupted before he’d seduced you completely. What were you thinking?” Her voice raised an octave.
She had been thinking she was going to compromise Carstairs.
“All of London is holding its collective breath to see if Welles will do the honorable thing.” A shrill laugh escaped her as she shook her head. “We will wait forever. Welles hasn’t an honorable bone in his body. Did you really think being compromised at the Duchess of Averell’s ball would result in marriage?”
I did. Just not to Lord Welles. “Of course not. It was only a kiss,” she said again.
“Perhaps you aren’t nearly as clever as you think you are, my dear. Marriage to Lord Welles!” Another ugly laugh escaped her. “This entire affair smacks of a jaded rogue who decided to make sport of a plain girl for his own amusement. Had he managed to seduce you, I would have had to send you away.”
It was on the tip of Margaret’s tongue to confess Welles had seduced her over a week ago; if the end result was expulsion from London, she was ready to pack her bags. Possibly if she mentioned Elysium, Aunt Agnes would send her all the way to the Continent. Gathering her courage, she opened her mouth to confess everything, but the next words from her aunt stopped her cold.
“As it is, you’ll still be able to marry Winthrop.”
Dread swirled deep and dark in her stomach. “But you just said—”
No. This would never do.
“Lord Winthrop is distraught, of course. But I’ve explained your…impassioned response to music. A flaw inherited from your mother who was similarly afflicted.” She waved her hand in the air. “As if you were slightly addled.”
“Do not equate my musical talent with a sickness. It is a talent.”
Her aunt’s lip curled at Margaret’s show of defiance. “You were merely playing the piano as you had on many occasions when you visited the duchess. Welles came upon you while you were in the throes,” her mouth tightened, “of your music. Welles is a seasoned rake, a seducer, who took advantage of an innocent young girl. You were only stupid, not despoiled. Winthrop has assured me he won’t tolerate such nonsense in the future. I doubt you’ll ever be permitted to play again.” A smug look crossed her skeletal features while the feather atop today’s turban, a pheasant’s, quivered with triumph.
“No. I mean, that’s not—” Margaret’s throat felt as if it would close and leave her begging for air. Once, when she was a child, she’d escaped her nanny to explore a small lake at the edge of her father’s property. Slipping in the mud, Margaret had fallen into the dark water, her limbs tangling in her skirts. She’d held her breath for as long as she could even though her lungs screamed for air. One of her father’s men had seen her fall in and saved her. That’s what this conversation with Aunt Agnes felt like, only no one was going to pull her out of the deep waters her aunt had pushed her into.
“A quick marriage to Winthrop and you’ll be shipped off to his country estate where, he assures me, there isn’t a piano within miles. By next season, Welles will have seduced some other young girl and you will be forgotten.”
The truth, as told by her aunt, was painful.
“My dear, did you think you were the only young lady Welles has ever compromised?” An ugly, choking sound left her. “Goodness, there’s at least one each season. You can nearly set your clock to him.”
Margaret said nothing. She was afraid if she opened her mouth she would begin to scream and not be able to stop.
A knock sounded on the study door. The heavy oak swung open to reveal a slightly ruffled Henderson. The butler bowed low and carried a silver platter over to Aunt Agnes, whispering in her ear.
Her aunt’s mouth quivered as Henderson spoke to her. She looked down at the note sitting on the salver and nodded. “You are excused, Margaret,” she croaked before waving Margaret upstairs.
“Has something happened?”
Her aunt blinked as if surprised Margaret was still in front