Scandal at Vauxhall (Pleasure Garden Follies) Read Free

walked around
the ballroom, he listened to the whispers until he reached the games room. Lord
Broxton waved him over to the whist table. Lords Avonlea and Rutledge cast an
amused glance.
    Both had gone to
Oxford with him and hadn’t spoken to him since his return to London. It was
interesting. After his trip from the continent earlier this month, all the
ladies still sought him out, but not his friends.
    “Come now, Lord
Thompson, we still have room for one more, and the betting has just gotten more
interesting.”
    “How so,
Rutledge?” he asked.
    “Well, it all
started with fifty guineas and you following her grace, the Duchess of Brimley,
onto the terrace. Fifty guineas gets you in, and another says you’ll bed her
before the year is out.”
    Nathaniel raised
his eyebrows. If he were a gambling man, he’d have played along. But tonight he
wasn’t. Something about the way Isabel had been trying to maintain her
composure told him that things were going awry one way or another.
    “Rutledge, you
may bet all you want on what I do in private, but I wager I’ll have my boot so
far up your fob arse before the night is out.”
    The table broke
out into a fit of laughter. “Game on, Thompson. I’m almost certain you’ll lose
the bet.”
    The cards were
dealt and all had played their hands when Lady Rutledge came up behind her
husband. “My dear, the most intriguing news. His Grace, the Duke of Brimley,
was called out by Downsbury. The duel is at daybreak. Apparently, he caught
Brimley with his wife.”
    So
that was what had her rushing out of here. This didn’t
bode well for Isabel. Downsbury was an expert marksman, and Brimley didn’t
stand a chance. Isabel could very well be a widow before breakfast, and the
thought had to have frightened her. The worst thing about the entire scenario was
that he couldn’t offer any assistance until knew of the outcome. Scandal
already sat at her doorway, and it was only a matter of time before all of
London heard.
    Lord Broxton
chuckled and didn’t appear the least bit fazed by the revelation. “I wouldn’t
worry about it, my dear. Her Grace, the Duchess, should be happy her tyrannical
husband does not stand a chance. And if the rumors are correct, I imagine
Downsbury will still remain a cuckold and very much at the center of bets at
White’s, as his duchess has been stringing around several lords.”
    His wife gasped
mockingly then giggled. “Oh my! She has certainly been a busy body, hasn’t
she?”
    “My dear, if
there is nothing else of import, please let us gentlemen return to our game.”
    “Certainly, My Lord.”
She practically skipped away with the new information to gossip about.
    Heartache
swelled in Nathaniel’s chest. Lady Broxton’s announcement certainly explained
much. Had he not been sent off via the war office’s command and married poor
Isabel as he had intended, he could have spared her this grief and
embarrassment.
    In fact, he
found it quite shocking that society should take so much pleasure in observing
and commenting on everyone’s lives as if they were a Greek tragedy or some
ridiculous play at the theatre. Mocking and ridiculing, subtle but harsh,
ruthless and relentless. The follies of those who took pleasure in another’s
misery should be eternally punished.
    Nevertheless,
the more he pondered on the matter, the more he wanted to see Isabel and lift
her spirits. Yet, he could not. She was above his station, and married, no
less. It was bad enough his mother had many dinners planned and balls to
attend.
    The dowager had
an agenda of marrying him and his sister off. However, no respectable peer
would go near his dear, naïve, imprudent sister. Thus, the future of his family
estate was now left entitled to him. To keep the other two women in his life
content, in addition to this conundrum, would prove to be his greatest feat
ever.
    The game of
whist lasted all of a half hour when Nathaniel excused himself from the gaming
table, only to be met