Papa sat in his cushioned armchair across from me. “A letter came while you were sleeping.”
“Oh?” My pulse quickened. Could it be from Summerhaven? Or perhaps Amelia?
Papa watched me from his chair and laid the letter in his lap.
“Bad news?” I asked.
He shook his head. “On the contrary. Henry and Georgiana are coming through Town to visit on their way to Captain Bromley’s house party. Never did understand the lure of large social gatherings myself, but they seem pleased.”
“When will they visit us?” I asked, feigning interest.
“In ten days.”
“And for how long will they stay?”
Papa glanced over the letter. “A week.” He smiled.
With a sigh, I nodded. While I was excited to see Henry again, my new sister-in-law could be a challenge. I wasn’t social enough for her liking, nor was I interested enough in fashion. She’d probably faint if she saw my unfashionably bright poppy-colored dress. But for Papa’s sake, I would do my best to evince eager excitement.
“That is wonderful,” I said. “It will be good to see them, and I’m sure a house party will be just the thing.”
“I am glad you think so; Henry and Georgiana have also secured an invitation for you.”
“Forme?” I blanched but quickly composed myself. “That is to say, how very kind of them. I do hope they will not be displeased with me when I refuse.”
“But why would you refuse? I thought you enjoyed the country.”
“I did. Ido.”
Papa adjusted his spectacles and set his newspaper on the side table. “I am worried about you, Hannah. You have not been yourself since returning home early from Summerhaven. It has been several weeks now. Will you tell me what happened?”
I wished to avoid this topic more than anything but knew it could not be escaped. Not forever. “Oh, Papa. I have made such a mess of things.”
“It cannot be so bad.”
“Whatever you are thinking, I am sure it is worse.”
Papa’s brow furrowed.
Guilt filled me, but it was time to confess all the mistakes I had made and all the people I’d hurt.
My voice quivered, but I intended to tell him everything, beginning with how I’d misinterpreted Lady Winfield’s invitation and then confessing how I’d hoped for an engagement with Ollie but was mistaken.
Papa interrupted me almost immediately. “I daresay Mr. Jennings is at fault. All those letters he sent to you while your mama lay in her sickbed . . .” Papa shook his head disapprovingly.
“He sent them to comfort me, not court me,” I said and hurried to continue my story. “As soon as I discovered the truth of Ollie’s feelings for me, I was ready to return to London. But then, Damon told me he was in a difficult position as well, and he made me a proposition.”
Papa’s eyes narrowed.
“Nothing indecent,” I quickly added. “Lord Winfield was demanding that Damon marry, but he wasn’t ready to take up the obligation, so he suggested we pretend to court. And I agreed, thinking it would make Ollie jealous and turn his head.” Saying the words out loud brought new shame.
Papa rubbed his forehead.
“Our charade didn’t go according to plan though. The more time I spent with Damon, the more I grew to care for him.”
“And what of your feelings for Mr. Oliver Jennings?” Papa asked. “I thought you liked him.”
“I do care for Ollie. He’s my dearest childhood friend, and the letters he sent me while Mama was sick lifted my spirits, but . . .”
