But whenever the two of them occupied the same space… Whenever she so much as strolled down the corridor past an open doorway, through which he happened to be gazing… The sight of her filled him with—
He didn’t know what. He didn’t have words for this. Her face made him happy and dizzy and caused his stomach to flutter. The sound of her voice soothed his soul, and the sound of her laughter filled him with sunlight.
And tomorrow morning, that light would extinguish from his life forever.
How Titus wished he hadn’t destroyed Oliver’s blanket! With Miss Dodd gone, the house would feel unbearably empty. Instead of launching himself out of bed to stroll with her beneath the colors of dawn, he would curl into the tightest ball he could make and wish that he were someone else.
Someone who could’ve kept her.
Someone who deserved a wife and a family.
Someone worthy of love.
He shoved the inheritance papers aside and reached for his pen and ink. If tomorrow was to be their last day together, he would make it one to remember. A party. She wouldn’t expect that. A celebration, of her birthday, of her independence, of…
Well, the truth was, Titus didn’t much feel like celebrating any of it. But he would, for her. Because it was what she wanted. She deserved to make her own decisions, to steer her own ship.
To live a happy life, free from the peril of his love.
Quickly, he dashed off the invitations to anyone who had ever made her smile. Oh, very well, and anyone who had sent invitations or… flowers. Never let it be said that Titus attempted to stifle her in any form.
No door would open to Miss Charlton and her friends, of course. Titus had given her the cut direct at the first available opportunity. She had not dared to so much as glance in their direction since.
This would be a happy party. Happy, happy, happy. A fun, happy celebration.
That Titus would hate every second of.
Worth it, if it brought a smile to Miss Dodd’s lips. He sent the invitations off with a footman, then went in search of his ward. Not to tell her about the party—it would be a surprise, on the morrow. But to see her. To smell her scent whilst he still could.
He found her in the entryway, greeting… his housekeeper? Who had apparently just arrived from… somewhere? For some reason?
“Here you are,” Miss Dodd was saying as she handed Mrs. Harris a familiar ring of keys. “There were no problems.”
“I knew there wouldn’t be,” Mrs. Harris replied as she tied on an apron and slipped the keys into its front pocket.
“You knew what wouldn’t be a problem?” Titus demanded.
Both women jumped guiltily.
He glowered at them. “Explain yourselves.”
“Mrs. Harris had an emergency,” Miss Dodd blurted out. “She was only gone for five days.”
“Five days!”
“We didn’t want to bother you—”
“You’re so busy, my lord.”
“So many more important things for you to worry about,” his ward said in a rush.
“And Matilda knows the inner workings of this house almost as well as I do.”
“Miss Dodd,” he corrected automatically, then blinked. “She what?”
“I’ve been practicing,” his ward explained with an embarrassed smile. “Mrs. Harris said that if I could run this house, I could run any man’s house. I admit I took it as a bit of a challenge.”
He wished she wasn’t thinking about any man but him.
