XXIV. The Legendary Grey's Fiasco-1

"You are awfully quiet," Theobald pointed out as they rode the carriage back to his estate. His jaw clenched as he gritted out, "I am not quiet. I am furious." Theobald shrugged. "This happens all the time, Harry. I am certain Alice does not mind the rumors—" "She may not mind, yes," he said, throwing his friend a darting look, "but I do. Do you know what such scandal could do to her reputation?" Theobald avoided his gaze. His friend looked out the window and belatedly shrugged. "Eva said Alice should have decided to leave Wickhurst sooner before the rumor blew up." He stole a glance at Harold. "She is leaving. The rumor will cease after the ton realizes that it is naught but a baseless tale by a bloody gossipmonger." Harold's entire body tensed and he closed his eyes to keep himself calm. "And who," he said through his teeth, opening his eyes to meet Theobald's grey ones, "is this gossipmonger, if I may ask?" Alarm crossed Theobald's eyes. "Well, I cannot be certain... you know how these gossips spread." "Who?" he repeated, this time in a stronger tone. "I cannot be sure," replied Theobald, avoiding his gaze. "But... well, do you remember when everyone noticed Lord Gedge in Alice's company at the Seymour ball?" Harold took a long breath and forcefully let it out. "Yes," he bit out. "Well, then, there you have it," said Theobald. "His new wife may not have liked the small talk that circulated the party." "They did nothing—" "They were together. That is all that matters to these people. That is enough for any gossip mongering leech." Harold knocked on the roof of the carriage. It slowed down and finally stopped at the side of the road. "Your estate is nearby," he said to Theobald. "You should try walking." Theobald narrowed his eyes at Harold. "What are you going to do, Harry?" Fixing his friend a stern look, Harold swung the door open. "I will come get you should I need you." ***** It was not easy to call on Lord Gedge that afternoon. The man was not in town. The butler refused to disclose his mistress' whereabouts. Harold went home, still very much furious. He wanted to go to Alice but he was certain she would not see him. He waited until morning to go back to call on Lord Gedge, only to be told that he had not yet returned from his trip. The mistress was not home either. A housemaid and a few townsends later, Harold found himself bursting into Café Royal, disturbing the quiet buzz inside. The younger women immediately straightened in their seats as he roamed his eyes around the room. The smell of coffee and tea filled the air, but the flaring of his nose was not due to that. His shoulders hunched when he finally spotted her. She was sitting around a small table with three friends of hers, all of them in the middle of a discussion before his presence was known, and were now ogling him like the rest. Harold stiffly turned and walked over to the woman and her friends with a tight smile on her lips. He saw alarm flicker in her eyes as he approached. She knew what she had done. And she was afraid of what he might do. And she had every right to be afraid. "Good day, ladies," he greeted, eyes on the young Lady Gedge. "If I may have a seat?" When no one moved, Harold turned his eyes to the right where it landed on the dark-haired woman. She hesitated before she jumped to her feet, muttering a flimsy excuse to leave. "Thank you," Harold loudly said, grabbing the chair to drag it in front of Lady Gedge who was looking at him wide-eyed. He sat down and realized that the entire café had gone completely silent. He looked at the two other ladies still glued to their chairs. "If I may have a few moments with Lady Gedge, please?" Lady Gedge whimpered as her friends went to their feet and out of the café faster than a squirrel. Soft whispers buzzed the air as Harold stared at Lady Gedge. He waved off the server who came to get his order, his emerald eyes fixed on the woman who just made things even more difficult for him since yesterday. Taking a long breath, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you start the rumor about me and Lady Alice?" he asked, hating to waste time to be cordial. Lady Gedge's eyes widened as she turned her head to check on everyone who was clearly still looking at them. "What rumor, my lord?" she asked, returning her gaze to him. "I do not like dancing around conversations, my lady," he impatiently stated. "Did you, or did you not?" She swallowed. "Well," she shakily started. "I... I was confident that the information was true. My source is very much reliable. And I did not mean for the story to spread. I merely told three loyal friends." "You mean the ones who just left you to burn without a backward glance?" Anger flashed across the woman's blue eyes. "You scared them, my lord. And you are most definitely doing the same to me. My husband shall know of this—" "I care not for what your husband will do, my lady," he interjected, leaning forward to hiss at her. "Who is your source?" The woman hesitated. Her eyes flickered around the room but his gaze. "I will count to three, my lady. If no name comes out of your mouth—" "Sebastian," she hissed at him. "It was Sebastian." Harold stiffened. "See?" Lady Gedge asked, lifting her chin. "The most reliable source there is. He was at Henry House when you and Lady Alice came by for a short excursion." Harold's eyes narrowed as rage ate him inside. "But I said nothing about you and her being lovers. I assumed you came to Henry House as friends. And you are friends, yes? It was not I who changed the story. I told my friends what Lord Sebastian told me in confidence. It is not my fault it was weaved differently from mouth to mouth." Harold uncrossed his arms and planted his hands on the table, intertwined them and deliberately held Lady Gedge's blue eyes prisoner. "A woman scorned." She frowned in confusion despite the fear in her eyes. "Whatever do you mean?" "You did not like it when your husband was seen with Lady Alice in the Seymour Ball and you did what you do best to ruin her." Her eyes widened. "I did not! How dare you accuse me, a fine lady, of such—" "Allow me to give you little advice, my lady," he interjected. "Try to lessen your propensity to gossip and pay your husband attention. Perhaps then he would not find the need to enjoy a friendly company with another woman." She gasped at his bold remark. Harold stood up and leaned on the table to whisper, "If I hear another story—even a whisper—about this Jewel Mistress, I will come back to find you." He straightened to full height, satisfied with the fear in her eyes. He turned, oblivious of the stares, and as he walked away, he added, "And oh, do be certain you watch your maids! They are quite keen to betray you with a few townsends!" ***** Harold did not even make it through the grand entrance before Martin shoved him outside. His friend's eyes were weary from having traveled back to Wickhurst in haste, but most of all he was just as furious. "How dare you!" Martin hissed. "What?" Harold asked. Martin shoved him once again and he almost fell back down the stairs. "You dare ask! You ruined her!" Harold had nothing to say. "We came to Henry House while we were on our way to Tiny Town. You know that." "I care not where you have been or what you have been doing," Martin hissed at him. "I am talking about the bloody rumor. The Jewel Mistress! Bloody hell, Harry! How do you reckon her mother would react to this?" Harold ran his fingers through his hair. "About that... I know—" "I told you to stay away from her." Harold blinked in surprise. Yes, Martin did that.