The Rakehell Regency(330)

If she did not trust the Earl, nor did she know what to make of Jonathan when she had so few facts. But she had known the vicar a great deal longer than Ferncliffe. Surely not everything she and Jonathan had shared had been a lie?



She played over in her mind all of his little kindnesses to her and her father, how they had grown so close, his touches, his kisses.



She gazed out the window at the cold gray morning, but no answers were to be hand there.



At length Pamela sat down across from her aunt sitting on the low bench at the foot of the bed. "Please, Aunt, you must tell me the whole truth. The Earl hinted at something scandalous about Mr. Deveril, but refused to tell me what it was. He said it was so appalling that he did not wish to shock and dismay me by repeating it. What has Jonathan done that is so shameful the Earl could not bring himself to speak of it before me?"



Her aunt looked at her for a moment in silence.



"Please tell me!" Pamela begged.



"Why, he was seen, with a woman, my dear. About six weeks ago, in Bath, apparently. Not just any woman, but a trull, her clothing in disarray, her hair streaming down her back, shouting and making a spectacle of herself as he tried to get her into a carriage. And a little by-blow clinging to her skirts completed the picture."



She tittered and rolled her eyes. "They do not call them the Rakehells for nothing, for all their seeming virtuousness."



Pamela's expression froze into a mask of rigidity.



Seeing her arctic expression, her aunt began to apologize. "I'm so sorry. I know you and Mr. Deveril were friends, though what you could have ever found in common, I have no idea. He was so beneath us. But perhaps I shouldn't have told you something so scandalous. You are after all very young. You have no idea what dreadful beasts men can be."



The clock struck ten. Pamela started, gasping, trembling with nerves and fear. What was she to do?



Suddenly she became acutely aware of the passage of time. It was running out for her.



Pamela stared at her aunt and straightened her spine. "No, but I'm starting to realize just how, cunning, vindictive and evil-minded some people can be. There can be any number of explanations for all of this. I'm going to discover the truth if I have to turn half of London upside down to do it."



She rose from her chair, and marched to the wardrobe to fetch her cloak.



"B-b-but where are you going?" her aunt stammered. "The ball this evening..."



"Hang the ball. I have to go see the Duke of Ellesmere," she said, with an ever-increasing sense of urgency, though she could not have said why.



"The Duke? Whatever for?"



Pamela snatched up her reticule and called for a maid to accompany her in the carriage.



"You can't just not turn up this evening! We're invited to supper beforehand. The Earl is planning to make the announcement!"



Pamela grasped her aunt by the shoulders. "Then stop him. Please, I'm begging you, Aunt Susan. If I'm wrong, then I shall come to the ball as if nothing ever happened. If I'm right..." She took a deep, steadying breath.



"Well, if I'm right, then we shall see. If I'm not there, the Earl must wait. I have not given my full consent. Matters must still be placed in the hands of the solicitors. If we cannot come to an amicable marriage settlement, it could all be off anyway. And you don't want to leave us to a breach of promise suit on top of everything else."



"No, indeed, but-"



"Please, Aunt, I know you think it's a good match, but the truth is, I don't love the Earl. Don't make me accept a man I do not esteem. He is perfectly pleasant on the surface, but..."



"What are you saying?" her aunt demanded in horror.



She shrugged. She had little time to argue. "Oh, I don't know, I seem to be suspicious of everyone these days. Please don't pay any attention to me. Now I must go."



She ran down the steps to the waiting carriage, and hauled the maid in almost roughly. She gave the address of the Duke's townhouse, and forced herself to breathe deeply and evenly, pressing her back and shoulders against the cushions, and praying she was not wrong.



Jonathan could not be as bad as everyone was saying. He had told her he was guarding a secret not his own. If it was not something to do with Clifford and Vanessa, then it had to be something to do with Thomas.



The Duke seemed a man of the utmost dignity and propriety. But as she had discovered, appearances could be deceiving. The Earl's suddenly suave demeanor was just a bit too polished for her liking. There had to be something he was hiding. Why else would he be so eager to marry her so quickly? The Duke and Duchess had also said that if there was anything she needed...