Most of their original group had begun to distance themselves from Douglass, and Veronica was bearing the weight of those consequences. Men were wary of being associated with Douglass and therefore refused to even dance with her.
After a time, Veronica’s softness had faded. Now, her desperation for an ideal match had given her a hard, almost lethal edge. Her tongue was cruel, and because of that, her beauty dulled. Little by little, she’d become a source of amusement for many of the women in their circle of friends. Meanness and pettiness did not garner much compassion for a person’s flaws.
Now, as Reid watched Douglass, who was currently surrounded by a group of men who wouldn’t have even gained entrance into the Sloane mansion two years ago, Reid knew it was time for him to break his ties with the family too.
Calling Douglass and Veronica Sloane friends was going to harm his sister’s debut into society. And because he’d long ago promised Calvin, Reid knew he would do whatever it took to prevent anything to mar Beth’s coming out.
It was time to leave.
Douglass looked up from the conversation he was having, caught his eye, and beckoned him forward. “Armstrong, are you going to simply stand there like a statue, or are you going to join us?”
“Pardon me.” Right then and there, he knew this would be his last evening in the mansion. After tonight, he would distance himself.
Stepping next to Douglass, he greeted the other men with civil, if somewhat cool greetings. Douglass noticed his lack of enthusiasm. “Come now, gent. This is no way to treat family.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My sister, of course.” Douglass grinned at them all. “We all saw you dancing with her at the Upton house.”
“One dance does not make an alliance,” Reid countered lightly. “Though, of course, your sister is both charming and lovely.”
The other men guffawed, making Reid flush. He had, perhaps, flowered a bit too much praise on Veronica.
“She is attractive, but has the disposition of a viper,” Douglass retorted. “Though, perhaps, that will make her interesting to bed.”
Douglass had just crossed the line. The other men froze, but said nothing.
It would be easiest to merely do the same. But, at last, Reid knew he could no longer hold his tongue. “I don’t find your comments amusing. In fact, they’re rather reprehensible.”
Douglass looked mildly uncomfortable. “Reid, I fear your plebian roots are showing. Yet again. Come have a drink.”
Reid was considering what to do next when he spied Veronica in the shadows of the hallway, close enough that she had to have heard her brother’s caustic joke. “Excuse me,” he murmured, then turned away.
Douglass chuckled. He apparently had seen her now as well. “See what I mean, gentlemen? He’s smitten!” Reid let the comment fall behind him.
“Veronica, are you all right?”
She regarded him with a cool disdain. “Are you referring to my brother’s penchant for announcing my charms?” She was prodding him to bring up the shameful comment, whether to embarrass him or her brother, he didn’t know.
Suddenly, the evening was too much. Witnessing Veronica’s treatment of Rosalind. Listening to Douglass’s rude and tasteless words—and now Veronica’s determination to pretend Reid was the one at fault because he’d had the nerve to actually refer to them.
“I do believe it’s time I left. Please convey my regrets to your mother.”
“Do you really have to leave us, Reid?” The words were banal but infused with a double meaning.
He ignored it. “I do. It’s for the best, I think.” He, too, could speak in half-truths.
A new acknowledgment, and, perhaps, respect, flooded her expression. “I see.”
He turned before each felt it necessary to exchange simple words that held too much meaning. He left the room before Douglass caught sight of him and thought to wonder about his actions.
From the moment he departed the hallway, Reid felt lighter than he had in years. It was as if with that one decision, he had chosen to change the course of his life. Best, it was his decision for himself. Not out of obligation or guilt.
He strode across the Italian marble entryway, past the Chippendale credenza, past the exquisitely carved grandfather clock. Last of all, he passed Nanci, dressed in a freshly pressed uniform, looking pretty and formal in black and white. Her eyes widened as he passed, but she didn’t say a word.
Just as he didn’t acknowledge her.
He opened the door without the assistance of the footman and then quickly closed the door behind him with a smart click.
At long last, he had left Sloane House.