people will beg your attention, you won’t have time to sit, let alone enjoy a bit of supper. Cook prepared the chicken in that French cream sauce you like so much. And then, sweet bee, you need to finish dressing. In fact, while you are eating, let me call for Sarah to do your hair. We don’t want to keep Baynton and his guests waiting—”
Elin caught her mother’s hand before she could move away. “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
“ You can, ” her mother answered. “You were meant to do this. Born for it. Elin—” She paused, closed her eyes as if searching for the right words, or patience. When she raised her lashes, her expression was one of loving concern. “Elin, forgive yourself. You made a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. However, it was many years ago. What were you, fifteen?”
“I was to turn sixteen.”
“So very young. How could you have known? You trusted Benedict. Your father and I trusted him.”
“I was foolish.” A hard lump formed in Elin’s chest at the mention of Benedict Whitridge’s name. Ben had been her closest friend, and he had taken what she should have protected—her virginity. He was also her betrothed’s youngest brother.
Not only had the experience been painful and humiliating, he’d gone away the very next day. He’d left for a career in the military without a word of farewell. Or a warning that he was leaving, that he wouldn’t be there to reassure her when she needed him most.
Her mother led Elin to her dressing table. She gently pushed Elin to sit on the bench, then knelt on the carpet in front of her, taking her hands and holding them.
“My daughter, we have discussed this. I thought you’d forgiven yourself. It was not a good incident in your life, but nothing terrible came of it.”
“I have forgiven myself.” Elin’s voice sounded false to her own ears. “I just believe Baynton should know.”
“That his brother took advantage of his betrothed? Is that what you want to tell him?”
“I wouldn’t say who.” Especially since Baynton and his brothers had shared a turbulent history.
There had been three Whitridge sons residing at Baynton, until Gavin’s twin, Jack, had disappeared one night from Eton. Some claimed he’d had run off. Others believed foul play. No matter which, he was never seen or heard from again.
The disappearance had meant that the old duke had not wanted to let his third son meet the same end. Or have the same opportunity to escape. The old duke had been an exacting taskmaster. He had high expectations for his heir. Ben often felt he was an afterthought. “A spare,” Ben had always claimed, oftentimes bitterly. “Always kept at bay.”
Because of Jack’s disappearance, his father had kept him at Trenton, the family estate, and had him educated by a succession of tutors. Elin had been his sole companion.
As an only child of parents who were often in London, Elin had valued Ben’s company. She’d trusted him and, to this day, could not believe he had taken her innocence to strike out at his oldest brother, as her mother had claimed. Then again, everyone knew the brothers were highly competitive. The old duke liked them that way.
However, to Elin, the loss of her purity was a small thing in the face of the betrayal of a trusted friend. She’d known he’d longed for independence. He’d yearned to buy his commission and set off into the world.
What she hadn’t anticipated was that he would use her in such a deliberate way. That had seemed out of character. Her mother had assured her it was very much the nature of men and one of the reasons that, from now on, her parents would protect her more closely.
And so they had.
Elin was now three-and-twenty. Ben actually meant nothing to her save for a hard lesson learned.
She admitted to her mother, “Of the two brothers, I am marrying the best . . . but Baynton is known for his integrity. Is it wise to start a
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