She laid her violin down on its stand as she heard the commotion from the hallway. She took a few calming breaths shoring up her courage. Her family had arrived. Sebastian and Jocelyn, Anthony and Phillipa. Her mother had summoned them to town and Constance had waited with a sick sense of fright for them to arrive.
She heard her parents’ soft greeting and strained to hear her brothers’ reply. Constance heard nothing. The door was swung open and Jocelyn barreled in, dressed in a dark yellow carriage dress, with her dark hair coiffed in an elegant chignon. She moved with energy despite her pregnant state and rushed over to Constance.
“Oh, Connie, I traveled up as soon as I heard. That wretched man,” Jocelyn burst out, hugging her. Constance returned her embrace, her eyes prickling with tears. She looked over Jocelyn’s head at the closed expression of both her brothers’ faces. Phillipa was attired very casually in a purple walking dress with a hat perched jauntily on her head. She gave Constance an encouraging smile and walked over to her.
“Forgive me for being a watering pot.” Jocelyn released her with a sniff. “I fear I have become somewhat emotional since the baby.”
Constance hugged Phillipa briefly and everyone sat gathered in the parlor while her mother rang for tea. Mild pleasantries were exchanged but the air itself was fraught with tension. Constance did not fail to notice that her brothers had yet to say anything. She could feel their anger, even though they did nothing overt to show it. Their wives led the entire conversation and it was all about the mundane, though both Phillipa and Jocelyn wore the look of happily married women—certainly a rarity among the haute monde.
Mrs. Pritchard announced luncheon a few minutes later. With great reluctance, Constance entered the dining room. Her mother dismissed the footmen after they had been served. Constance waited with her stomach in knots. She knew they only gathered for one thing—to discuss the implications of her actions.
Her father wasted no time. “You know why we are all here, Connie. It is unpleasant business, but it must be dealt with. Your mother and I spoke at length and the decision we have made is that you must marry right away. Lord Litchfield will be calling on you tomorrow. I trust you will know what to do with his offer.”
Constance took a few sips of her wine, her mind churning for a solution. It was as she feared. She shot Sebastian and Anthony a pleading look. She knew Sebastian would not fight with her father over his decision, but he was her guardian by law, not her mother’s husband.
“The man who compromised her will be doing the marrying, Radcliffe,” Sebastian interposed softly, but she could hear the implacable steel in his voice.
“I am marrying no one.” The words slipped from Constance’s lips before she even knew she would speak. “I was not compromised.”
Cobalt blue eyes met hers, and she forced herself not to shrink away from Sebastian’s ruthless will. She saw Jocelyn fleetingly touched his arm. He relaxed slightly as he laced his hands with hers beneath the table.
“Tell us what happened, pumpkin.” Anthony invited with a smile, though his eyes remained cool and cautious. “I got mother’s letter, but it was filled with ranting of how ruined we are. Why don’t we hear from you what transpired? I know what the paper said, but we all know how notoriously unreliable they can be.”
Constance opened her mouth, and the words still would not come.
“What happened, Constance?” Sebastian demanded at her continued silence.
She looked everywhere but at him. She couldn’t bear to see his disappointment. Seconds flew by; then she shored up her courage and met his eyes. She flinched from his cold distant look. It was one he had never turned on her before. Her throat tightened as tears burned. “I visited Decadence for a private audience with the Duke of Mondvale.”
Sebastian exhaled a slow breath, and she gathered how worried he must be. He nodded in encouragement. “Why?”
She fought to keep her face blank and buried the memories. It would not do for her to blush at all. “He called on me a few times, but at Lady Beaumont’s ball he decided to terminate our friendship without any explanation. I thought it fair to demand answers.”
Her mother’s shocked inhalation had painful heat scorching Constance’s skin.
“Were you seen kissing?” Sebastian demanded softly.
“No.”
“Does it matter if she was seen?” her mother asked weakly. “The very fact that she visited that man in his club is enough. She is compromised. This is a terrible scandal. I doubt Connie will ever be able to recover from it.”
Sebastian’s anger seemed to pour over her in waves. “Did he touch you, Connie?”