Tarnished Amongst the Ton

‘Where’s Anna?’ Phyllida asked, scrabbling ineffectually at her bodice. Her stays were like a vice, stopping her breathing.

‘She’s gone to find an apothecary for what she swears is an infallible potion to stop the nausea. What is the matter? Stays?’ Ashe enquired. ‘I can’t say I’ve much experience with the things, Indian women have more sense than to wear them, but let’s see what I can do.’

With a gasp Phyllida found herself tipped forwards against Ashe’s broad shoulder while his fingers dealt efficiently with the buttons at the back of her gown and then the laces of her corset. ‘Oh! Ashe, really you cannot—’

‘I can,’ he said. ‘Thought I might have to cut them, but it was a nice easy bow. Now then, how are we going to do this?’ He slid her dress off one shoulder, still holding her up from the pillows. ‘Then this one…’ The corset came away and she took a deep breath. ‘There, is that better?’

‘Lord Clere and his wife, you say? And the poor lady is sick? I must see what aid I can give. In here where the door is open?’ A penetrating female voice, a rustle of skirts and Phyllida opened her eyes to see Lady Castlebridge, an earl’s wife with the longest tongue in society, standing just inside the door, her expression avid with curiosity. ‘Miss Hurst!’

Phyllida laid her forehead on Ashe’s shoulder with a faint moan and the impossible hope that she could conceal just how much of her bosom and arms were laid bare. This was utter disaster and she could not think of a thing to do to rescue the situation unless the earth opened and swallowed her up.

‘Madam?’ Ashe laid her unresisting against the pillows and flipped the counterpane over her. ‘I do not believe we have been introduced or you would know I am not married.’

‘Well, everyone knows who you are, Lord Clere!’ The delight of discovering a scandal right in front of her nose was all too apparent. ‘And we had heard nothing of a wife, which is why it is such a surprise to find Miss Hurst with you and enceinte, poor dear.’ The skirts rustled in to the room and the door clicked shut. ‘I am Lady Castlebridge. Naturally, you may rely on my total discretion.’

‘Far from being in an interesting condition, Miss Hurst is suffering from food poisoning and was taken ill on the road. We are the merest acquaintances, but naturally I could not leave the lady in distress when she fainted at my feet.’ Ashe sounded aloof and faintly puzzled, as though he could not quite believe the intrusion. ‘You are a close family friend, it seems. Perhaps you could hold the bowl for Miss Hurst when she vomits again while I go and find out what has happened to her maid?’

Despite everything Phyllida felt a faint flicker of amusement at the sounds of her ladyship’s hasty retreat.

‘Not that good a friend. I am certain Miss Hurst will want her maid to attend her. Er… perhaps I could find her.’

‘Excuse me, madam.’ Blessedly, Anna’s voice, so polite it verged on insolence. ‘Thank you, my lord, I can manage now.’

The door closed. After a moment Anna said, ‘They’ve both gone, Miss Phyllida. He looked fit to strangle the nosy old besom, his lordship did. How are you feeling?’

‘Dreadful.’ She sat up and opened her eyes. Her stay

s were draped over the footboard of the bed, presumably where Ashe had tossed them. Her gown was round her waist and only her chemise gave any vestige of decency.

‘Who took your stays off?’

‘His lordship.’

‘Oh, lumme.’

‘Exactly.’

‘And old sharpnose saw? Here, drink this, Miss Phyllida. I ran down the street to the apothecary.’

‘She not only saw me on the bed, in Lord Clere’s arms in my shift, she also heard the landlady’s opinion that I am suffering from morning sickness.’ Phyllida sipped the hot brew and felt it settle soothingly in her abused stomach. ‘I rather think I am ruined, Anna.’

‘Surely not? You’ll be out and about in town tomorrow quite obviously not with child,’ the maid protested.

‘That is not the point. I am supposed to be staying with friends in Essex. How am I going to account for being in bed in a Hertfordshire inn on such terms with Lord Clere that he removes my underwear in a crisis? I will wager fifty guineas she has already discovered that we arrived together, even if he was not in the chaise.’ She threw back the cover and got up. ‘The smoke is all it takes, Anna. There doesn’t have to be any fire, not when one’s position is as ambivalent as mine is.’

This is a complete disaster, she thought as Anna did up her gown, bundled the corset under her own cloak and found Phyllida’s bonnet and pelisse. Then another thought hit her: Gregory. ‘Oh, my Lord.’ She sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘What is Mr Millington going to say when he hears? He’ll never allow Harriet to marry my brother after this. We must get back to London as soon as possible. I must speak to Gregory, find some way of persuading Mr Millington that this will not come to reflect on his daughter.’

‘Miss Phyllida!’ Anna followed her down the stairs. ‘You need to rest.’

‘I can rest in the post chaise.’ She gathered all her strength and swept into the hallway, praying that her shaky legs would continue to hold her up. ‘Good morning, Lord Clere.’ She stopped and bobbed a curtsy. ‘Thank you for your assistance, but as you see, I am able to resume my journey. Lady Castlebridge! It is quite all right, there is no need to stand back in the shadows, I am not suffering from anything contagious, merely the effects of some bad fish last night. I will see you at the Fosters’ musicale, I am sure.’

She made it to the sanctuary of the chaise before either could say a word. Anna called to the postilions to make a start and they rattled out of the yard and turned towards London and disgrace.

Chapter Thirteen

Ashe found his father and Edwards, his secretary, in the study dealing with a pile of correspondence.

‘You have made good time.’ The marquess’s smile faded as he took in Ashe’s expression.