Harriet walked the paths of Oaksgrove's gardens, disconsolate. She found herself looking back over her shoulder towards thehouse continually. She hoped to either see Beecham walking briskly towards her bearing a letter from Jeremy or to see Jeremy himself.
I did not imagine it. I reached him behind his high walls. He admitted to a passion for art. Maybe a greater passion than his ambition for the El Dorado. And he seemed to care more for being with me than for inveigling himself into the good graces of the Winchesters. Only to see me being introduced to my future husband…
She looked and hoped, but there was no sign of either letter or Jeremy himself. Harriet had returned home to Oaksgrove two days prior. This was the third day since the Drury Lane Theater. And still no sign of him.
A golden-haired head poked up from over the wall. A familiar face and a familiar introduction.
“Hullo, Harriet!” Jane chirped.
“Hullo, Jane. No need to hide. All is out in the open now. Beecham, and probably Ralph, know that I have been sneaking away.”
Jane grinned and disappeared behind the wall. Harriet strolled on, unhurried, waiting for her friend to circle round to the nearest gate. Moments later, Jane appeared, brisk as ever, and tucked her arm through Harriet’s.
“I have not seen you in such a pitiful state since Ralph forwent escorting you to the Chelmsford ball. And if memory serves, I found the solution then. I daresay I can again. Now—what exactly is the matter, dear Harriet?”
Harriet laughed bitterly, remembering when her only worry in the world was being unable to attend a ball she had been looking forward to. Oh, how much had changed since that fateful day…
“It is not quite that simple this time, Jane,” she murmured.
“Doubtless it seems that way now, but I assure you that our troubles always have a way of appearing bigger than they truly are.”
Harriet took a breath, considering the things that were on her mind.
Where should I begin? With the marriage Ralph expects me to enter into? With the engagement I was pretending to? With the dalliance I engaged in with a man known to be a rake and a scoundrel? A man I believe I am falling in love with...
“It seems my brief days of freedom are coming to an end. Ralph has found me a husband, as promised,” Harriet eventually said.
“Oh, well, I can see that it might seem like the end of the world. But it needn't be. Is the man beastly? Old? Ugly?”
“Young and handsome and a gentleman as far as I can tell,” Harriet said miserably. “Just not the man I would choose.”
“And who might that be?” the blonde prompted.
Harriet shook her head. “It does not matter. He is not here and by now knows that I am promised to another. He has no further use for me.”
“Then it is the Duke of Penhaligon,” Jane guessed astutely.
Harriet nodded after a beat, and Jane pursed her lips.
“That may not be the worst thing in the world that could have happened. He does have something of a reputation, and... wait. Were the two of you... did you...?”
Harriet did not answer as her face grew scarlet. Jane's jaw dropped, but a moment later, she was hugging Harriet fiercely.
“I'm sorry, Harriet. You took me by surprise. I did not expect it. No matter. You will not be the first woman to have her heart stolen by a rogue. Nor the last. Especiallythatparticular rogue. There is no shame in admitting it.”
“He is not a rogue!” Harriet said fiercely, separating herself from her friend's sympathetic embrace.
Jane looked startled. Harriet was surprised at her own anger.
“I'm sorry, Jane. I do not know where that came from,” she sighed. “My emotions are so tangled.”
Jane returned loyally to her side. “There is no need for apologies, Hattie. Not with me. But we must do something about this. Now, I am going to say something that may sound controversial, but hear me out. Perhaps if this suitor is indeed young and handsome and gentlemanly, it is no bad thing that he has been matched with you?”
She watched Harriet closely for a reaction.
“You may not have wished to consider any man but your beloved Duke, but...”
“But, I do not know where I stand with him!” Harriet interrupted. “I believed that perhaps my feelings were reciprocated. I dared to hope that what we had been playing at was bordering on reality. But now, I do not know.”
