Page 56 of Vying for a Viscount
Her eyes fell to the cup of tea she held. Her cheeks burned, her hands trembled, and her head throbbed. Greyson had lied to her. Heliedto her. The one thing she couldn’t tolerate in a gentleman was lying. It wasn’t so much the lie, because everyone told a fib now and then. It was what it triggered inside her. The memories of Rutherford’s lies and how she couldn’t live through something similar again.
She reached beside her, set her tea down, and stood. “Forgive me, ladies, but I must return home.”
It would be hard to miss the look Lilly and Emmeline shared. Emmeline rose. “I’ll see you out.”
Letitia bid the remaining ladies good day and followed Emmeline out of the drawing room. As they neared the entry hall, Emmeline said, “What was that about? I don’t believe you misunderstood Greyson. Why did he tell you that about his father?”
Letitia couldn’t hide her frustration and hurt, and she rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. I didn’t misunderstand. I know exactly what he said. It was an obvious excuse to get away from me last night.”
Emmeline took her hands in hers. “Don’t do anything rash. I know Rutherford lied to you for years, and how much it hurt when you found out he had a longtime mistress and sired several illegitimate children with her. But Greyson is not Rutherford. Ask him about it. Give him a chance to explain before you decide to end the courtship. You both care deeply for one another. It’s obvious to anyone fortunate enough to be in the same room with you both.”
“Thank you, Emmeline. You’re a good friend.” She pulled her hands away. “I promise I’ll give him a chance to explain, but I can’tpromise anything regarding our courtship.” She covered her heart with one hand. “I don’t think my heart can survive being lied to by another man I love.”
Emmeline hugged her and whispered, “Be kind to yourself. Go home, soak in a hot bath, and take a nap. Those two things will help you see things clearly. If not, at least you will feel soothed and rested. If you need me, send word, and I will come. Blackstone and I have nothing on our calendar for tonight.”
“Thank you,” Letitia said, hugging Emmeline back. “You are a good friend.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and fought back the tears gathering in her eyes. She wouldn’t embarrass herself by crying in front of the duchess. She would cry in the privacy of her chambers after she took Emeline’s advice and took a relaxing bath. She also had no social engagement for tonight, which was good, because all she wanted to do was have a good cry and sleep away her broken heart.
*
The morning afterLetitia found out that Greyson had lied about his father, she sat up in bed, her breakfast tray across her lap, yawning. Sleep had eluded her for most of the previous night, and she had the beginnings of a dull headache to match her poor mood. The lie Greyson had told her was nothing compared to the lies Rutherford told during their marriage.
How foolish and naïve she’d been when she entered their marriage at eighteen. All his trips to his clubs and dinners out with friends were spent with his mistress and their children. His natural-born children. He lived another life with another woman. She’d often wondered whether their marriage meant anything. She understood at the beginning of their marriage that he’d married her to produce a legitimate heir. But as the years went by and they suited one another,she’d thought they had shared much more than that.
She learned after his death from their solicitor that he had set up a trust for his other family and that they were well cared for. She was at least glad he had looked to the future and planned for his death. She often thought about reaching out, since she knew the woman’s name. But her embarrassment and pride stopped her.
Even though she knew why Rutherford had lied to her, she didn’t know the extent of those lies. Nor how they affected her. How insecure they made her. How she believed she wasn’t enough of a wife to satisfy her husband. She knew she wasn’t enough for Rutherford, but she also believed it would be the same if and when she married again. She tried to make herself understand that Rutherford had been in love with his mistress for ten years before they’d even met. Though Rutherford had cared for Letitia, he never loved her as he loved his mistress. And nothing she had done or not done would ever have changed the facts of his life before her. But it still hurt. Her heart still ached at the truth.
On the night her husband died, something happened to her besides the trauma of witnessing him fall to his death. It triggered a connection between lying, death, and guilt. She knew it wasn’t rational, but she couldn’t help what her mind believed. Greyson’s lie to her made her fear his death and triggered the debilitating guilt she felt after Rutherford’s death. If he hadn’t lied, if she hadn’t gotten angry and argued with him, he would still be alive. In her mind, the sequence of events started with the lie and ended with death. Upon discovering Greyson’s lie, it sparked these fears in her. Indeed, she was upset he lied and he would have to explain his reasoning at some point, but until then she would struggle with her irrational fears.
She sipped her hot chocolate and picked at her eggs and toast. Nothing tasted good. It was bland and flavorless. While Jane was busy in the dressing room, preparing her clothes for the day, she set the breakfast tray aside. Tossed the covers off her body and left the warmbed, shivering as she put her dressing robe on. Making her way over to the fireplace, which had been set, she stood in front of the warm blaze and sighed deeply.
What was she going to do about Greyson? So many scenarios had run through her mind during her sleepless night. Some were so ridiculous she almost laughed at the memory. Most left her heartbroken, tears soaking her pillow. Should she ignore his lie and pretend all was well between them? Even if she did, his sisters would no doubt mention their conversation in Emmeline’s drawing room. Then he would know she knew he had lied to her.
What a dilemma. Deep down, where her heart was hiding, she wanted to forgive him. She believed he had a good reason for the lie and could still hope that it wouldn’t happen again. Emmeline had given her wise advice, and perhaps she would consider using it.
“My lady,” Jane said, stepping out of the dressing room with her arms full. “Are you ready to dress?”
“Yes, Jane. I’m going to call upon Lady Anastasia and Lady Aurora this morning.” After Letitia was dressed in a pale-blue day dress and pelisse, Jane styled her hair in a neat chignon low on her neck so her yellow bonnet would fit perfectly.
“Please go tell Mr. Henry to have the carriage brought around.”
“Yes, my lady.”
She made her way to the drawing room, looking out the front windows while awaiting the arrival of the carriage. Lost in thoughts of Greyson, when Mr. Henry announced that the carriage had arrived, she was startled. She hadn’t seen it pull up.
“I’ll be right there, Mr. Henry.” Taking a deep breath, she raised one hand, and her gloved fingertips grazed her bonnet. Nothing was out of place, so she couldn’t put off her excursion to Danbury Hall any longer. Exiting the drawing room, she paused as Mr. Henry bowed and opened the door. She descended the several steps and entered the coach as a footman held the door open. Once he closed the door, heknocked on the roof, and her driver, Mr. Burke, set the horses and wheels in motion at a steady pace.
Her insides quivered, and she leaned back against the squabs, wrapping her arms around her stomach. She had second thoughts about visiting Danbury Hall. Yesterday, it hadn’t felt right, but today she felt she needed to. She didn’t have much to discuss with Anastasia and Aurora, since she’d seen them yesterday, but of course this visit was a ruse to see Greyson and gauge his reaction to her coming to his home. Oh dear, she covered her mouth and fought the urge to gag. “Stop this, Letitia. You are making yourself sick with worry.” If only she would listen to herself.
When the carriage came to a halt, she almost yelled at the driver to go home. Instead, a footman from Danbury Hall opened the door and offered her his hand. She took it, hoping he didn’t notice how it shook. “Thank you,” she said as she stepped onto the pavement, then made her way up the stairs and through the door the butler already held open. She handed over her calling card. “I’m here to see Lady Anastasia and Lady Aurora.”
The butler bowed. “Yes, Lady Rutherford. Come with me.”
She followed him up one flight of stairs to a set of double doors, partly ajar. He opened them wide and announced, “Lady Rutherford.” It was the same drawing room she’d been in when she’d come for the celebratory engagement dinner. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Both Anastasia and Aurora rose from their seats on one of the two blue velvet settees and closed the distance between them. “Letitia,” Anastasia said, taking her hands. “What a lovely surprise. Come sit down and have tea with us.”
“Yes, do,” Aurora said as the three of them sat down. Letitia settled into the vacant settee.
