“He will be. I spoke this morning with the barrister who will be prosecuting the case. With my testimony”—along with the weight and influence of my rank—“he has little doubt Dibble will be found guilty.”
She studied him for a full minute. “While that’s a relief, I still think I should also be a witness. I don’t want Dibble to think I’m afraid of him. I want to face him, take satisfaction in bringing about his comeuppance.”
“As much as I admire you for that, why put yourself through it when there’s no reason?”
“I hate what he did to my mum. He took advantage of her, and his position gave him the power to do so. I’d like to see him gelded.”
Although he hadn’t expected her to be so vindictive, he didn’t blame her for the sentiment. “I doubt they’ll go that far, but he will be punished. Prison is not an easy existence.”
“I know. My brother Finn spent time in prison. He never spoke about it, but it changed him, made him more somber.” She picked up a book, dusted it, and set it on the shelf. “Do you view me differently now that you know the truth of how I came to be?”
“Yes.”
When she jerked her gaze around to meet his, he cradled her cheek, grateful that this time she didn’t withdraw from his touch. “I now know you to be stronger than any other woman of my acquaintance. Last night you were accosted, physically and emotionally, and you did not cower in the face of the truth. You are truly remarkable, and any lord would be fortunate to have you as his wife.”
Any lord, including him.
Chapter 21
Later that afternoon, after Marianne had left for the day, Fancy stood at the counter, going through the post that had been delivered when a cream-colored envelope caught her eye. Her name was inscribed in elegant script on the vellum. Her fingers were trembling slightly as she turned the missive over, broke the seal, and unfolded it. The words flew at her, a jumble that hardly made sense.
Ball.
Fairhaven Hall.
Pleasure of your company.
She stared at the date. At the end of the month. In the evening. Of course, in the evening. Eight. The Marquess and Marchioness of Fairhaven requested her presence.
She could hardly fathom it. She wasn’t related to them at all. But here they were wanting thepleasure of her company.
She remembered a time when she would have been overjoyed. Now all she could think was that she didn’t belong, wasn’t worthy of such an elaborately designed invitation. She shoved it back into the stack, carried the pile into her office, and crammed it all into a drawer, as though doing so would extinguish its existence.
Returning to the counter, she watched the clock tick off the minutes before she would lock her doors, determined to keep the shop opened until the proper time, even though she found it to be a chore. She hated Dibble for taking away her joy of working, grateful he’d not moved beyond the storeroom, so she had no memories of him invading this section of her shop.
In spite of Matthew’s earlier visit and his kind words, she was unable to shake off the gloom that had settled over her as she struggled to deal with how vulnerable she suddenly felt. Vulnerable and off-kilter. She wasn’t as she’d always believed herself to be: the product of a grand love. She had devoured romantic stories because they represented a world that had come together to create her. While she knew her mum loved her, she couldn’t get past the fact that she’d come to be because of ugliness, and that made her feel ugly. On the surface, deep down, throughout.
Her chest ached, her soul was battered. She wasn’t deserving of all the dreams her family had dreamt for her. She felt like an imposter. Her past was a lie, and while she understood why her family had sought to spare her the truth, even loved them for it, she felt unmoored.
As soon as the clock struck six, she headed for the door. She’d nearly reached it when it suddenly opened, and Matthew walked through carrying two wicker baskets, one lidded, the other overflowing with a cornucopia of flowers.
“Closing up for the day?” he asked.
“Unless you need a book.”
“Not tonight. I thought you might like to join me for dinner.”
“I’m really not in the mood for the pub.”
“I thought you might not be.” He held up the lidded basket. “So I’ve brought the pub to you.”
Her heart gave a little squeeze at his kindness. “Oh, Matthew, I don’t think I’ll be good company.”
“I’m not expecting you to be, but I also suspect you’ve not eaten today, and you do need to eat.”
Only then did she realize he had the right of it. She had no appetite but didn’t want to grow faint from lack of nourishment. “Is there enough in the basket for both of us?”
“Yes.”
