The Last Bachelor by Betina Krahn

Author:Betina Krahn
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The sun came up at the usual time that next morning. The tea was hot, the scones were buttery, and the marmalade was sweet and golden, as always. But the ladies of Paxton House glanced up at the sky in confusion and stared forlornly at each other around the breakfast table, knowing that all was far from normal in their world.

Last night Antonia had come rushing through the front doors just before midnight and had gone straight to her rooms and slammed the door. She wouldn’t admit anyone or talk to anyone, not even Hermione. And as they collected in the hall outside her rooms, they heard her weeping as if her heart was breaking. It had been a long night indeed, and they knew without being told that it had to do with Remington Carr.

Then a copy of Gaflinger’s had been delivered to the doorstep, proving their conjectures and confirming their deepest fears. A front-page header proclaimed:

WIDOW AND NOBLEMAN CAUGHT IN LOVE NEST!

The writer of the piece, Rupert Fitch, declined to supply the names of the unhappy couple, but provided enough details about their adversarial relationship, including the mention that the lady and gentleman were prone to “public wagering,” that it took little effort to deduce the identities of the lovers. The pair had been discovered in a compromising situation by a number of “leading gentlemen” paying a late call on the nobleman. And the details of the encounter were recounted with prurient accuracy: bare chest, unpinned hair, and all.

With heavy hearts the ladies realized that Antonia and his lordship had finally succumbed to the attraction growing between them. And instead of the start of a deep and enduring love, it had proved to be the disaster of a lifetime!

It was well on toward noon when Antonia emerged from her bedroom with puffy eyes and a pale, drawn face. She was dressed in unrelieved black, buttoned all the way from chin to waist, and her manner was every bit as grave as her retreat into full mourning colors suggested. Hermione and Eleanor hurried to her side the moment she set foot in the hushed drawing room.

“Are you all right, my dear?” Hermione asked, putting an arm through hers and directing her into their midst. The others gathered around, and she looked at their concerned faces and felt the dread that gripped her stomach loosen.

“You probably already know that … that for days now … that last night …” She paused and lowered her eyes, feeling her courage wane.

“We know all about it, Toni dear.” When she looked up, Aunt Hermione was holding a newspaper. “And by this evening I’m afraid the rest of London will, too,” she said gently, placing the paper in Antonia’s hands.

Antonia glimpsed the headline, swayed, and stumbled to the closest chair. In deepening shock she read the article that recounted in ghastly detail the humiliation she had suffered only hours before. The links to her and Remington Carr were unmistakable; what other nobleman and

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