He didn’t wait for her to leave but headed down the stairs to begin preparing to get the hell out himself. He was more than ready to return to his residence in Mayfair and to leave Miss Fancy Trewlove and his heart behind.
Chapter 24
With her undergarments bundled in her arms, the lacings on her gown undone, and tears streaming down her face, Fancy ran to her shop, not caring if anyone spotted her. Her heart was breaking. She’d found the love for which she’d always dreamed, only to lose it because of an error in judgment. And Matthew blamed her, believed she’d tricked Beresford.
How could he think that of her? After all they’d shared, all they’d confided in each other, how could he believe the worst of her?
When he strode from the room, her damned pride had refused to allow her to chase after him. She should not have to explain herself. He should know that she was the one tricked.
Not that it mattered what he thought, because it didn’t change the truth of things. Even if he still wanted her, she couldn’t bring shame to her family by rejecting Beresford. Her reputation was on the cusp of ruin and only marriage to the earl would see her accepted in Society.
When she reached her rooms, she plopped down on the settee. Dickens leapt up and settled in her lap. Combing her fingers through his fur, she gazed at the photographs of her family on the mantel. What if she didn’t want Society? What if she wanted Matthew?
She’d never had a row with anyone before, but people had rows all the time and overcame them. If she explained what had happened at the ball, would he believe her? Could her heart withstand the battering if he didn’t?
He’d wanted to marry her.
In the face of his anger over what he obviously viewed as a betrayal, she’d barely been able to absorb the words he’d thrown at her. Not exactly the way she’d always envisioned a proposal coming, but now his words reverberated through her. He loved her. Oh, he hadn’t used that term, precisely, but he’d admitted she’d won him over. And he’d wanted her to become his wife.
Dickens hissed, and she realized she’d been hugging him tightly as though he were Matthew. She released her hold and he darted away, leaving her arms empty, as empty as her life would be without Matthew. How in the world was she to reconcile what she wanted with what was best for everyone else? At what point did she put her own needs and desires first?
Glancing over at the mantel clock, she saw that she was an hour away from opening her shop. Her world was falling around her, but she couldn’t let her beloved shop go to hell as well.
She prepared her bath, and when she sank into the warm water, all she could think about was Matthew’s gentle touch as he’d washed away her imagined grime. As the tears began to flow in earnest again, she buried her face in her hands. Everything she did, everywhere she looked were reminders of him. He made her laugh, feel special, hunger for passion. He’d defended her against Dibble and was going to see the man sent to prison. He’d shared happy times and sad. He’d been her rock.
With wet hands, she swiped at her tears. How could her chest ache this badly, as though her heart were being physically rent from her?
Would she find any comfort at all with Beresford? Would he make her laugh? Would she come to love him in time?
Matthew certainly didn’t seem to like the earl. She shook her head. That made no sense. He’d meant he knew of the earl, didn’t know him personally. She’d mentioned his calling on her, and apparently he hadn’t liked that at all. Matthew had been jealous. But then if he’d been caught in a compromising situation with another woman, she’d have been jealous as well. Although she certainly wouldn’t have immediately assumed that he was the one who led the other to ruin. It had hurt her deeply that he had such a low opinion of her. But then she remembered his wife had been a trickster. His sister and mother as well, it seemed. No wonder he’d found fault with her when they’d first met, but had she not proven herself to him? Or had he been so hurt by the thought of losing her that he’d been unable to think clearly?
Her mind was a fog of confusion, of questions, of anger, of hurt. She needed time to sort it, but the minutes were ticking away.
Shortly before two o’clock, with her head held high, she walked into Mick’s office. He stood before his desk, arms crossed, Aslyn beside him. On one side of his desk was Aiden, Selena, Finn, and Lavinia. On the other side stood Thornley and Gillie. Beast was leaning against a bookcase. He loved books almost as much as she did.
Obviously, Mick had let everyone know about the unfortunate incident, and they’d all gathered to lend their full support.
Mick cleared his throat, released a deep sigh. “Last night, I was remiss in asking you exactly what happened. Would you like to tell us?”
She lifted a shoulder. “He told me Collinsworth had some rare books and offered to show them to me. He said other people would be in the library but no one else was. I know I should have left right then.” She met each gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“When I walked in, it appeared you were locked in an embrace—”
“He held me, yes. He wanted to kiss me. But I wasn’t having it. However, I know that based on the way he was standing, leaning toward me, to those in the garden, it had to look as though he was. And that’s what people will believe, what he will let them believe. But regardless of what didn’t happen, it doesn’t change the fact that I was alone with him. And because of that, if I don’t take him to husband, I will be ruined.”
“Do you want to marry him?”
Oh God, this was difficult. “You all have worked so very hard to get me to this point. I will do what I must.”
In the hush of the room, he studied her for a full minute. “That’s not what I asked, sweetheart. Do youwantto marry him?”
“I’ve thought of nothing else all morning. I’ve struggled with it. Nearly strangled my cat, I held him so tightly.” She thought a little levity might help, but it didn’t. This was a serious affair, and she had to take it seriously. It was her future, her life. “I don’t want to disappoint you all or Mum, but I’m going to. I can’t marry him. I’ll just be miserable if I do.”
Uncrossing his arms, he pushed away from his desk, strode over to her, wrapped his arms around her, and placed his chin on the top of her head. “You’re not going to disappoint us. We just wanted to know if we needed to take our fists to him if you wanted to marry him and he wasn’t going to step up and do the right thing.”
Unshed tears clogged her throat as she wound her arms around his back, held him close. “I don’t think fists will be necessary. I can handle it.”
He tucked his finger beneath her chin, tilted up her head, and gave her a warm smile. “We know you can.”
