“You don’t say,” he muttered. The vague unease was turning into a tingle that set the very hairs on his arms on end.
She nodded, her eyes fierce. “From my understanding, it was Miss Gladstow’s unexpected engagement that prompted Miss Merriweather’s termination. Though I cannot understand it. It is one thing to be unhappy with your child’s choice in husband. It is quite another to punish the girl’s companion for it when she was doing her best.”
Tristan’s stomach lurched with the bitterness of guilt.Well, hell.This was something he had not expected. But Grace was peering suspiciously at him.
“You were dancing with Miss Gladstow shortly before her engagement was announced. You wouldn’t have any insight into the matter, would you?”
“Of course not,” he scoffed. He may love his cousin, would entrust her with his life. But there was something about his little matchmaking venture that made him want to protect it, to hide it from the world. He only hoped she would take him at his word, that her curiosity would not prompt her to probe for more.
His acting skills must have been exceptional, for Grace nodded and turned her gaze to the window. She heaved a sigh. “Poor girl. I am thankful I passed her my card last night, that she had the sense to seek me out for a position. Heaven knows what would have happened to Miss Merriweather if she had not.”
It did not take much of an imagination to deduce. There was only one place for women to go when they had no home, no family, no money. The thought of Miss Merriweather on the streets, begging for coin to survive—or worse—slammed through him. Horror and fury at Mrs. Gladstow’s unfeeling actions boiled up. But with it was mixed a healthy dose of disgust in himself, for he had equal fault in the whole debacle. Seeing Miss Gladstow happily settled was cold comfort now, as a young woman’s life had nearly been destroyed because of his interference.
It was more proof that he was nothing special, that it would only take the smallest misstep on his part to reveal to the world what a fraud he was.
“Tristan? Tristan, are you well? You appear ill.”
Grace’s voice shocked him back to himself. He looked at her, quite unable to dredge up his typical carefree smile. “I’m happy she came to you, is all,” he rasped.
Though what the repercussions would be for him, he thought with no small amount of trepidation as Miss Merriweather’s face flashed in his mind, he hadn’t a clue.
