Living London - By Kristin Vayden Page 0,51

informed that a very bright star fell from the heavens last night, into the arms of an up-and-coming rakehell. Miss W. was seen sharing an amorous exchange with the devilishly blue-eyed Lord A. Our informant was an eyewitness to the scene, where heated words were exchanged, and the conversation left no doubt. Not only was Miss W. thoroughly ruined, but Mr. A was not offering marriage. One has to wonder, what type of lady would so freely disregard propriety and run head first into foolhardy behavior and ruin herself beyond repair? The answer: no lady at all. So one has to wonder, then just what is Miss W.?

I slammed the paper down. Libby jumped at the sudden commotion. She hadn't left my side all day, and I was grateful for her friendship. Friends were obviously in short supply — it worried me that I hadn't heard from Amelia.

"Miss Westin? Miss Amelia is here, if you're available." Wains spoke gently, his eyes concerned, and I appreciated the gesture. My stoic butler had a soft spot after all.

"Yes, of course, please show her in." I released a breath of relief. At least Amelia was still talking with me.

"Jocelyn!" She all but ran into the room. Upon seeing my red eyes, she pulled me into a tight hug. "I won't even ask how you're doing. It's clear to see you're miserable, and I could strangle whoever did this to you." She spoke into my hair as she patted my back.

I wanted to cry again, but I didn't. There were no more tears. "I have my suspicions, but what's done is done. Aren't you risking a lot to be here?" I added, thankful that she had come yet concerned for her reputation at the same time. Mrs. Trimbleton had explained to me the possible repercussions I'd face in response to the rumor. Not only was my voucher at Almack's be revoked, but I could expect people to ignore me, pretend I didn't exist — in effect, cut me off. And if they did notice me, I would basically wish they hadn't because I'd be the topic of their ridicule. I'd be slandered, gossiped about, and all-around maligned in every way. No decent person would be seen with me. Which was why I was concerned about Amelia's reputation should they discover she visited me, the one with the scarlet letter. Fantastic, and I thought being unpopular in high school was bad.

"Of course I came!" Amelia looked offended at my question, shaking me back from my thoughts.

"Thank you." I spoke with deep conviction. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

"Oh pish and tosh, that's what friends do!" She tried to smile and lighten the mood, but her efforts fell flat.

"So," she began as she took a seat next to me. "What on earth happened?"

"Oh, Amelia, I don't even know where to start."

"Well, why isn't Lord Ashby doing anything about this?"

"He's gone," I whispered.

"Gone?" she repeated, clearly questioning my answer.

"Yeah. I mean, yes. He told me last night that he had to leave to take care of some business in his country estate. He won't be back for a few days."

Amelia cursed, then immediately blushed and apologized for her outburst. "He's the only one who could fix this right now." She chewed her lip in thought.

"I don't think he would even if he were here, Amelia," I whispered, feeling like an idiot all over again.

"What? Why? He's been besotted from day one!" she argued.

"Well, it seems that we — rather, I was mistaken, I think. Agh!" I growled. "It's so confusing. He was so wildly romantic last night. Telling me that there was nothing more fearsome than living without my kiss, or me belonging to someone else other than him, and… well, he kissed me." I cleared my throat and turned a touch pink at the thought of just how much kissing had taken place. But I didn't know the Regency word for 'making out', so I had to stick with 'kiss.'

Her eyes widened, and I think she got the message even without words. "And well, he stopped and began to be very strange," I finished, remembering the odd, stricken expression and his cryptic words.

"Did he say anything?" Amelia prodded.

"Yes. He said he was sorry. That he had never meant to…" I trailed off, not wanting to repeat the word he had used. It carried such a painful connotation, and the wound was fresh. Amelia waited with practiced patience for me to formulate

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