A Proper Scandal by Charis Michaels Page B

a sharp grind. “If the lady does not wish to make my—”
    Elisabeth shook her head and said, “It’s nothing to do with you, my lord. ’Tis merely—”
    â€œ ’Tis everything to do with you, my lord,” cut in Aunt Lillian. “She wishes to approach you about your charity prize, but she does not wish to compete with my cause.” To Elisabeth, she said, “I will not tell you again; the viscount has seen quite enough.”
    In the end, Elisabeth was given no choice. She nodded. She took up her skirt and raised her chin to hold her head high. It felt momentarily better—at least she no longer spoke to the wall—but she refused to go so far as to look Rainsleigh in the eye. Not that it mattered. If he recognized her, he gave no indication.
    She glanced at him quickly—one swift look and then away. His expression had gone stony, almost grim. He nodded curtly, watching her ascend.
    â€œIt would seem that I shall attend the dinner after all,” she said primly, looking straight ahead.
    â€œIndeed.” He blocked half the door. The polite thing would be to step back, but he did not budge. She was forced to maneuver around him.
    â€œAunt?” she called over her shoulder, sailing briskly to the stairs. “A word? It will only take a moment. While I change?”
    â€œBut of course, darling,” came the answer, as she knew it would.
    Elisabeth clipped up the marble steps to her chambers, ready to do battle.

C HAPTER F IVE
    â€œY ou are cross.” It was a statement, not a question, said on a sigh. Aunt Lillian opened Elisabeth’s wardrobe and began yanking gowns from the rod and tossing them on the bed.
    â€œYes,” said Elisabeth, watching colorful silks arc through the air. “I am cross. ‘Cross’ states very mildly how I feel, I’d say. Lilly, how could you? Without even consulting me? This man? This man? You have no idea what you’ve done.”
    â€œOh, I think I have some notion, and”—the countess pulled a turquoise gown from the wardrobe—“I would do it again.” She held the gown high, considered it, and then added it to the pile.
    â€œOf this I have no doubt.” Elisabeth began to pace. “Of all the machinations, the manipulations, of all the chance meetings that were not so chance—this is, by far, the worst. And to think. If I had consented to attend the dinner from the start, I would have been taken completely by surprise.”
    Lillian tsked. “Quincy predicted you would react this way.”
    â€œWell, Quincy was right. Where is he? He’ll be the only one on my side, as usual.”
    â€œWhatever do you mean?” asked the countess, watching her pace. “He insists upon watching over me during these affairs; you know this. He’s with the footmen, serving drinks.”
    Elisabeth considered this—considered the entire conversation they could have about it. The abject strangeness of her aunt’s secret love affair with the gardener was a rare but explosive topic. If ever she wished to change the subject, dear Quincy was a sure bet. But not tonight. Her aunt’s audacity could not be let go. Elisabeth had her own secrets to detonate.
    While she paced, Lillian circled the bed, considering the dresses. “Would it have been so bad to be taken by surprise by the viscount? Rainsleigh has pursued you himself. Of all the young women the baroness has invited tonight, it was you he sought out. I watched the whole thing from my place by the door. To be honest, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    â€œHow gratifying for you—to witness your ambush play out before your very eyes.”
    â€œAmbush—please, Elisabeth. It’s not like you to resort to dramatics.”
    â€œPerhaps, but it is exactly like you, and now I’m meant to reckon with it? This goes beyond the bounds of reason. How could you invite him here and not