Living London - By Kristin Vayden Page 0,60
unwilling to go back into the dark depression that had consumed every bit of light that past week. "My reputation," I insisted. "It's ruined. I'm ruined. What will that do to you?"
His expression softened, and he bent to give me a sweet and tender kiss. "I think it's time to call in our friends. You've nothing to worry about, love. This is where it gets interesting."
Chapter Seventeen
After our powwow with Amelia and Lord Heath, I was walking on air. Lord Heath had explained with glee that we were to have a bit of fun. I'd been more than a little hesitant. But as Lord Heath outlined his masterful plan, hope surged through me. Even though I was ruined by ton standards, the damage was repairable if done correctly. Phase one would begin in a few minutes, and I was fighting a few butterflies.
"Don't worry, love, it will be fine," Morgan crooned in my ear as he led me down the stairs and out into Hyde Park. It was the fashionable hour, and the park was full of ladies walking, carriages rolling, and men on horses trotting along Rotten Row. At first everything appeared normal, but soon people began to notice us and an obvious hush covered the park. The hush quickly turned to furious whispers. Morgan beamed beside me, holding my hand and pointing out scenery, whispering for me to wear a smile and keep my chin up. I thought of the note from the Dannberry brothers — Chin up.
With a brave grin, I dared the ton to call me a harlot now. Armed with love and hope, we continued down the way. I resisted the temptation to turn around and watch Amelia and Lord Heath begin their part of the plan a moment later. They were to locate a few key ladies known for their love of gossip and spread the word: Miss Westin was not ruined—rather she was engaged to Lord Ashby. He had left simply to notify his family of his intent on taking Miss Westin as wife.
They had prepared themselves for doubters, so I wasn't concerned when I heard a dowager pelt them with questions. "If that's the truth, then why would she be published in the papers like a common—"
Thankfully, Amelia interrupted the woman before she spoke the derogatory word. And after seeing Morgan's display of anger when Lord Heath had said "harlot" when trying to prepare answers for potential questions, I was thankful for her intervention. The last thing we needed was an irate Marquess giving a dowager a piece of his mind. I had no doubt that Morgan would do it, too. The thought brought a genuine smile to my face.
Soon the word spread. It reminded me of an adult version of Telephone, only with a lot of staring. I hoped the truth was circulating rather than some sort of distortion, as usually happened with the repetition of gossip. Although, as I thought about it, nothing could be worse than the original lie.
It was entertaining to see ladies blanch as we passed, no doubt remembering how they had treated me. Gentlemen shook their heads and cursed gossip columns. By the end of the walk, I was no longer receiving the cut direct but was gathering smiles and small nods of affirmation. Morgan never left my side as he led me through the park, nodding to each person and showering me with proper affection. With deft skill he would draw my attention to a squirrel or cloud to take my mind off of the stares. Again I was reminded how much I loved the man.
By the time we headed back to my house, there was one question left unanswered, a question only few people knew the answer to. If I wasn't ruined, if Morgan was indeed my fiancé, then why had the gossip papers so erroneously published the contrary? They had said they were given information from a reliable source. Thus leading to the final question. Who did it…?
When we arrived home from our walk, Amelia wrote anonymous notes to the three gossip columns, notifying them of their misunderstanding just in case the gossip traveled too slowly. I also wrote a letter demanding an apology. I didn't know if I'd see it ever, but it was cathartic to write the letter. Then, after several hugs from Amelia, a wicked grin from Lord Heath as he studied Morgan and me, and several coughs from Morgan as he tried to rush them out the door, we