“I am headed out, Miss Hartley.”
The breath left her. His voice told her what his eyes hadn’t, that he wished to be gone from her presence with all haste.
But there was a chance that this new attitude was due to Lord Redburn’s arrival. If that was true, then perhaps he cared more than he was letting on.
“Could we go someplace private to talk?”
“I don’t see what there is to talk about.”
Frustration boiled up. Maddening, stubborn man! Couldn’t he see she was trying to explain? But losing her temper would only push Peter away. And there was too much at stake for that.
Stepping closer, she lowered her voice. “We didn’t have a chance to talk about last night.”
If anything, his eyes grew colder. “Have no fear, I won’t tell anyone.”
“I didn’t think you would. But that’s not why I wish to speak with you.”
“Please stop prevaricating, Miss Hartley. I have places I need to be.”
She sucked in her breath. “I am asking for five minutes of your time.”
“Are you certain you should keep Lord Redburn waiting so long?”
Aha! Excitement bubbled up. The curl to his lip when he said the other man’s name, the clipped words, all spoke of deep emotion. He cared, damn it. Now if he would only admit as much. “If you’re concerned over what Lord Redburn is to me—”
“Why should I be concerned?”
He was making no attempt to lower his voice. She glanced hastily about, noting the footman across the hall who was trying his best not to look their way. Face heating, she turned back to Peter and whispered, “Please, if we could speak in private.”
His lips pressed tight. Finally, after a moment so long she began to count the ticks of the hall clock, he gave a sharp nod and spun about, heading for a room off the side of the front door.
Lenora hurried in his wake, nearly colliding with his back as he stopped just inside the door.
“There, you have got your privacy, Miss Hartley.”
“You did not call me Miss Hartley last night, Peter.”
She tried to impart some of her feelings in her tone, to force him to remember what had been between them. It could not have meant so little to him.
His next words dashed that to bits. “No, I did not. But I think we can both agree that what happened between us was a monumental mistake.”
“A mistake?” A ringing started up in her ears. “I assure you, I don’t see it as a mistake, Peter.”
“I’m sure your fiancé would think differently.” His eyes pierced her with sudden intensity. “He is your fiancé, is he not?”
She opened her mouth to deny it, that she had made no promises.
But the contract had been signed. Lord Redburn had said as much. Of course her father would have had everything tied up nice and tight before Lord Redburn left London. Which meant that, for all intents and purposes, she was engaged. Hopelessness coursed through her.
She could deny it, of course. It would be easy enough to do. But she couldn’t lie, not to Peter.
The truth sat heavy and bitter on her tongue. “He is.” When Peter’s features tightened and he made to leave, she hurried to step in his path. She braced her hands on his chest and looked up into his face, beseeching him to understand.
“It was not of my doing, I swear it. My father had the engagement contracts drawn up without my knowledge. He normally would not do such a horrid thing, to go against my wishes in such a way. Or at least not so blatantly. But I have not had the best of luck in engagements, and he knew I wasn’t keen on another, and no doubt wanted to make certain this one did not fall through. I’m afraid Lord Landon’s abandonment bruised his pride much more than I initially thought—”
“Lord Landon?” Peter’s voice sliced through the air. “You mean Hillram, do you not?”
Lenora went cold. “Er, no. I was set to marry Lord Landon not long ago. He…um…did not quite make it to the church the morning of the wedding. It’s why I came to the Isle, to escape the scandal.”
