Beneath her palms, Peter’s heart pounded out a fierce beat. Finally he spoke again. His voice, however, was far from kind.
“And so you were engaged to a Lord Landon after Hillram.”
Again, she could not lie. “Not exactly.”
His eyes narrowed. “Not exactly?”
For the first time in the encounter, Lenora was the one to put distance between them. She stepped back, letting her hands fall from the tense wall of his chest. She had thought to save herself embarrassment by not telling Peter the whole truth of her history. Now, however, that seemed laughably pathetic. She swallowed hard. “Before Lord Landon there was Lord Fig.”
He went so still, she wouldn’t have been surprised to find pure stone instead of flesh if she’d reached out to touch him again.
“Tell me,” he said, his voice a deadly calm she had never heard from him before, “are there any more fiancés? Or have you exhausted your list?”
Her face went hot, an equal mix of mortification and anger. “Three engagements is hardly cause for me to feel shame over.” Or so she kept trying to tell herself.
“Four. One mustn’t forget Lord Redburn.”
Lenora nearly blanched. “He was not of my choosing.”
“And the others were?” He crossed his arms, the muscles bunching beneath the material of his coat. “I nearly pitied Hillram for dying so young. Now I wonder if the boy did not have a near miss, as your affections are so fluid.”
Her breath left her in a harsh exhale. Tears rushed hot behind her eyes. “And you, Peter?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Did you have a near miss?”
It was as close as she would get to asking if he cared for her. She was bruised from the inside out; she could not let herself become more vulnerable than she already was without losing the very last shred of her pride—and her heart.
And thank goodness she hadn’t, for his answer was like a death knell to whatever hopes had reawakened in her breast.
“I was in not the least bit of danger, Miss Hartley. You may ease your fickle heart on that score.”
With a curt nod, he strode from the room. Lenora stood staring at the place he had been. For a second, she could not breathe, the grief was so great.
She had been a fool to fall in love with Peter.
How could she have allowed it? He had never left any doubt that there was no hope for a future between them. Yet she had been only too eager to accept his kisses, even to ask for more.
She clenched her hands into fists, feeling the bite of her father’s letter in the soft skin of her palm. It would not happen again.
Straightening her shoulders, she marched back to where she’d left Lord Redburn. She half expected to find the man gone.
Yet he was still there, standing in the middle of the small, seldom-used room. When she walked through the door, his face lit up in a smile.
There was not enough left of her heart to twist in guilt. No man should be so happy to see a woman who had given her heart to another.
“Lord Redburn,” she stated, stopping before him, “I have thought about it, and would be open to your courting of me.”
He grinned that dazzling smile of his and took her hand up again for a kiss. But as she looked down at his dark head bent over her fingers, she felt not a thing.
Chapter 23
Lenora had just seen Lord Redburn from the house, had barely stepped foot over the threshold of the drawing room, before Margery was hurrying toward her, a half-eaten biscuit still gripped in her hand. “Is Lord Redburn the man your father has chosen for you then?”
Peter’s face, cold and unfeeling, swam before her tired eyes, until she managed to banish it. She nodded, allowing Margery to link arms with her and lead her back to her seat. With a sigh, she sat, resting her head against the back of the couch.
A small, warm body settled in her lap. She looked down to find Freya gazing at her with large, solemn eyes. A tiny pink tongue darted out to lick Lenora’s fingers before the dog curled up and drifted off to sleep.
“She’s not one to worry overmuch for people’s feelings,” Lady Tesh remarked, “so you must be troubled indeed. I take it you’re not happy with Lord Redburn’s suit.”
What could she say to that? Who wouldn’t be happy with the man? He was handsome and kind, titled and rich.
