Scales and Sensibility by Stephanie Burgis

Chapter 24

“Shh!” Sir John hissed.

But it was too late.

“Good heavens!” Miss Armitage hurried forward to clasp Penelope’s free hand. “What a terrible thing for your family. You have suffered so much!” Warm sympathy infused her voice as she drew Penelope close. “You must tell me all about it immediately.”

“It has been quite dreadful,” Penelope agreed happily. “You mustn’t tell anyone else, of course, but the things she’s said and done since it happened—”

“—Are blunt,” Elinor said through gritted teeth, “and honest. Never mad!”

“Mrs. De Lacey.” Sir John cleared his throat heavily. “I understand you’re an old friend of my wife’s, so you can’t be best pleased by this news, but I think you’ll agree that the opinion of a trained physician—”

“One hired by you,” said Elinor, “to give the diagnosis you prefer. Do not treat me like an idiot, Sir John!”

“Then don’t treat me like a servant, ma’am,” he snapped. “This is my household, and I’ll run it as I see fit. I made that clear to Mary when we first wed. If she can’t tolerate that anymore, then she’ll just have to deal with the consequences!”

Elinor’s fists clenched at her side. How many times had she had to stand silently by in the last six months, while he made stupid, brutal decisions about her and everyone else? But she wasn’t a poor relation anymore, and she would not let him do this to her aunt.

She couldn’t. Not when it was her own foolish, careless wish that had brought it all about in the first place.

“You may run this household, Sir John,” she said, “but when word spreads throughout fashionable Society that you and your daughter, between you, have had your wife locked up for selfish reasons, Penelope’s reputation will be ruined along with your own.”

Sir John’s face reddened. “By God, ma’am—”

“Oh, come now, Mrs. De Lacey,” Miss Armitage said, her voice as smooth as silk. “Do you really think the word would spread? Who among us would spread it, may I ask?”

Elinor kept her eyes locked on her uncle’s furious face. “I would,” she said, “and I think you all understand what my word is worth in Society. Is that truly a risk you wish to run, Sir John? Because I will not stand by and allow my oldest friend to be abused.”

“Abused!” Penelope gasped. “How can you say such a horrible thing? As if anyone would ever abuse my mother! All we want is to keep her in a cozy little cottage where no one has to hear her ravings. It’s what she’d prefer, I’m sure, if she were more herself. We’ll get her an attendant who knows just how to properly look after her. Papa told me! She’ll have all the comforts she could ever want, I am sure. What could there possibly be in that to complain about? It is only to keep her safe, you know.”

“To keep you safe, you mean,” said Elinor. “Just because she doesn’t give in to you on everything anymore—”

Benedict cleared his throat warningly. But it was Sir John whose bellow cut her off.

“That’s enough!” He strode towards her, bull-like shoulders thrust forward and big hands knotted into fists. “From the moment you first arrived, ma’am, it has been one demand after another. But when it comes to threatening my daughter’s reputation…”

“You won’t let her do it, Papa,” Penelope said. “You couldn’t let her…oh, everything goes wrong for me nowadays! You’re all against me.” She burst into tears.

“Now, now,” Miss Armitage murmured. She tucked Penelope’s head into her shoulder, and Gavin Armitage moved to shelter the two of them protectively...but both Armitage gazes remained locked with keen appreciation upon the scene in front of them.

They were only gnats on the verge of Elinor’s consciousness, though, as Sir John bore down on her. She lifted her chin as high as it would go and stood her ground. “You are the one threatening your daughter’s reputation,” she said. “All you need do to remove all danger to Penelope is simply to forget this cruel scheme you’ve concocted.”

“Oh, is that all I need to do?” He spat the words, and spittle flew out from his mouth, one wet drop landing against Elinor’s cheek. “You take an eager interest in all of my family, don’t you, ma’am? First you make demands about my nieces, and now…”

“Nieces?” Miss Armitage murmured. “Which nieces are those?”

“I’ll tell you this, Mrs. De Lacey,” said Sir John. “If you still care so much about those nieces of mine, you’ll do well to forget your concern about my wife.”

Elinor froze. “What do you mean?”

“Purely to satisfy your whim,” he snarled, “I promised not to pursue Elinor Tregarth despite her theft from my daughter. Only to make you happy, I promised not even to warn those poor innocents sheltering her sisters of the danger they’re in from those serpents.”

Elinor’s voice came out thin and strained. “I told you, if you want me to attend and help Penelope’s début…”

“And how much help do you imagine you’ll be if you’re busy spreading lies about my daughter?”

Her aunt…

Her sisters…

She couldn’t let him hurt Rose and Harry. She couldn’t.

Sir John smiled. It was not a pleasant expression. “I see you’ve grasped the situation, madam.”

Elinor didn’t speak. He turned and beckoned to Penelope. “Come along, puss. You’ve had some packages arrive from the dressmakers. You’ll want to see those, I expect.”

“Oh, Papa…” Penelope detached herself from Miss Armitage’s embrace. Wiping away tears, she shot a defiant look at Elinor.

“If you’re going to help,” she said, “I want real help from now on. And no lectures!”

She flounced into the house with Millie running after her. Gavin Armitage only laughed as he looked from Elinor to Penelope, and followed at a more leisurely stroll. Miss Armitage, though, stayed to give Elinor a long, considering look.

“So,” she murmured, “you’ve chosen the welfare of Penelope’s cousins—whom you’ve never met—over that of Lady Hathergill herself.” She raised her eyebrows. “Interesting.”

She glided away.

Benedict stirred beside Elinor. As the front door finally closed behind Miss Armitage, he began, “If I can help…”

Tears blurred Elinor’s vision. She snatched Sir Jessamyn out of his arms without meeting his gaze.

“It’s too late,” she said. “I’ve already ruined everything.”

* * *

She ranuntil her legs stopped moving, and when she finally stopped she found herself in the Hathergill’s enclosed wilderness.

How appropriate, she thought bitterly.

Sir Jessamyn was watching her with large, worried eyes from her arms. She choked down a sob as she leaned down to nuzzle him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have run with you. It wasn’t fair. It probably frightened you.”

For a wonder, though, he hadn’t chuckled yet. She stroked her hands soothingly over his back even as she choked down a sob.

Ahead of her stood the same boulder Sir Jessamyn had sunned himself upon three days earlier, when she’d come here with Benedict. She forced herself forward those last few steps, then simply allowed her legs to give out. She landed on the boulder with a thump that sent pain shooting up her spine, and gathered up Sir Jessamyn against her chest as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“How did I get here?”

Of all of her sisters, she had always been the sensible one. The one who always kept a level head, no matter how angry or frightened she felt inside. The one who never, ever let herself lose control

…Because she couldn’t. She was the oldest. It was her role to be sensible, her role to pay attention to the practicalities of life, while Rose threw herself headlong into one passion after another and Harry lost herself in the beautiful maze of her own intellect. As a triangle, they had worked. They had functioned perfectly for seventeen years, even after their parents’ death.

But now her sisters were gone, Elinor was alone, and she didn’t even know who she was anymore. Would Rose and Harry recognize her if they saw her now?

Well… “Probably not,” she said out loud, and found herself hiccupping a laugh.

Who was she trying to fool? She was magically disguised as the foremost lady of London fashion. No one would recognize her right now.

“Miss Tregarth?” said a voice behind her.

Without looking up, Elinor murmured, “Yes?”

And then every inch of her body went cold.

She lunged to her feet so swiftly that Sir Jessamyn protested, digging his claws into her skin to keep his balance. She barely noticed.

Benedict stood three feet away from her on the shaded path that led through the wilderness.

For a long moment, the hum of insects buzzing over the pond nearby was the only sound in the enclosed garden. Then Elinor said, “I mean—that is, of course, I didn’t—”

“I know.” Benedict took a step forward. His eyes were wide and filled with intense emotion. “I’ve known ever since that first morning here, when I touched your hand and saw you. Really saw you. I told myself that I’d imagined it, but I already knew better in my heart, even then.”

Elinor moistened her lips. “You can’t have known,” she said. “We haven’t touched even once since then. When you look at me—”

“I see you,” he said. “Elinor Tregarth. Brave and witty and caring and strong—the strongest person I’ve ever met. Oh, the appearance is wrong most of the time nowadays, but…” He shook his head and took another step. Then he reached out as if to touch her face—but his fingers hovered an inch away, as if waiting for permission. “It’s you,” he repeated softly.

Elinor couldn’t breathe. His fingers were so close; his eyes so intent on hers. And his expression…

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered. “I thought I’d met you just long enough to regret you forever.”

She was crying again. But she was moving, too.

Elinor stepped forward, into his arms.