Several ladies began speaking at once with others agreeing in rising volume, but it was Gwen’s mother herself who finally put an end to it.
“Be silent everyone. I swear this whole mishap has given me the headache.”
It took a moment, but the ladies did quiet enough for him to speak. “I gather that Lady Meunier has been at the rumor mill again,” he said, making an effort to keep his voice light.
“It is not rumor, but fact!” the dowager countess cried.
“Truly?”
He stepped forward, alarmed to see many of the ladies shying backwards as if he were a leper. Gwen stepped up beside him, obviously wanting to defend him, but in this she would only damage herself. He needed to stem the tide of public opinion, and he needed to do it now. Fortunately, the right woman was in the crowd, though her presence here hurt. He’d once counted her a friend.
“Mrs. Bradley, I didn’t see you in the back there. Well met.”
She huffed and drew herself up to her full height. She opened her mouth to speak, but he didn’t give her the opportunity.
“How is your dear little dog? Muffin is his name, isn’t it?” A decidedly too benign name for the sharp-toothed terrier she adored. By way of explanation, he turned to the crowd in the hall. “Dear Muffin was ill, and Mrs. Bradley was beside herself, Mr. Bradley being, um, indisposed.” The man had been in his cups and fully insensate as the dog had lay moaning at his feet. She sent a message to her son asking for his help, but the boy had been equally indisposed. So it was that Jackson had come to her aid, sitting with her all through the night as the dog slowly recovered on his own. He had held the lady’s hand and talked with her gently throughout the night. “I believe I spent the night with you then, the two of us taking turns giving poor Muffin water through a dropper. You told me then I was an angel among men.”
Mrs. Bradley looked down at her hands and mumbled, “You were most kind.”
“Did I make any heinous attack on your person?” he asked. “If I am a reprobate, surely I would have made some sort of advance.”
“Of course not!” she said, outrage in her tone. It was the only answer she could give, first and foremost because it was true, but also because to suggest otherwise would damage her own reputation. After all, they had spent the night together as they tended the dog. That could only happen if his reputation were unimpeachable.
“Just because you were kind once—” began the dowager countess. Fortunately, he had sited his next target and was able to interrupt her.
“Mrs. Saunderson,” he said. “How is your housekeeper’s health? And your cook? It was last Season, wasn’t it, when both ladies and indeed half the staff took ill just days before your ball. You begged me to help as you were beside yourself with worry for the dear ladies.” She’d actually been terrified that she was sick herself and was importuning all of her intimates to help her. He had been only one of three who had given her aid, but he had spent several hours closeted with her because no one else would risk infection. “We wracked our brains for a solution and finally—after several hours’ discussion—managed to pull together a perfect menu. Everyone said your ball was the best that Season, and your staff recovered quickly, thank Heaven.”
“I did most of the work.”
“You did,” he pressed. “But I believe—”
“You told me he was a Godsend,” said Gwen’s mother, her tone sharp. “I remember that now. You told me you couldn’t have done it without him.” She straightened up. “And you said Violet developed a tendre for him, but he never laid a finger on her. You said he was the perfect gentleman!”
Oh yes, he remembered Violet now. Mrs. Saunderson’s daughter, not yet out of the nursery. She had big eyes and the most adorable laugh. He’d teased her to make her smile, nothing more. He had no idea she’d turned him into a romantic hero.
“I don’t remember that,” Mrs. Saunderson said stiffly.
“But I do,” retorted Gwen’s mother with heavy tones. “As does Mrs. Lawrence, Lady Wattingham, and Mrs. Burke. We talked about it over tea for three afternoons straight.”
Jackson had no idea if the ladies had indeed discussed it, but it didn’t matter. The three women nodded rather than argue with their hostess.
“Why, I believe Lord Sayres had helped any number of us over the years. When our husbands and sons fail us, he has stepped in to help. Esther, didn’t he find you a new coachman when your other one left? Agnes, didn’t you tell me he found a jeweler to repair your necklace when it was broken?”
Finding decent servants was easy if they were well treated. Esther had needed a new coachman who didn’t mind being screeched at whenever her ladyship was late. As for Agnes, he’d found her a fence to replace the stones with paste.
It was how he existed so easily on the edge of society. He was around when ladies sent frantic messages to their husbands or sons. When family had no interest in helping, he often lent a hand. It endeared him to the ladies and their men, which made it easy for him to find investors for Isabelle. It was also an easy way to keep up on society gossip, which always came in handy.
“Well that just proves the point,” the Dowager Countess Highburn cried. “He’s always around, always sniffing around ladies. Whyever for if not—”
“To enlist you in an orgy?” Gwen cried. “Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?”
Absolute silence filled the hallway as everyone turned horrified looks on Gwen. She didn’t understand that ladies were not supposed to even know the word, much less utter it aloud. Meanwhile, Gwen continued as she pulled off her gloves as if she were about to throw them down like gauntlets.
“That is what he’s accused of, isn’t it? Orgies? Relations with every woman about town, often several at once. My goodness, can any of you imagine a man with such stamina as he is accused? Truly? He’s a fine man, to be sure, but when would he have the time, much less the strength?”
Countess Highburn was not to be deterred. She curled her lip. “You are too young, Lady Gwen, to understand these things.”
“On the contrary,” she began, and Jackson tightened his grip on her hand. She could not mean to reveal what they’d done together. Thankfully, she was smarter than that. “I have a married sister and a sister-in-law. They tell me things.” She stepped forward. “Ladies, you are all married. Are your men able to…act over and over, several times a night? Don’t they just fall asleep?”