“I’m still wrapping my head around it,” she admitted.
No one had ever thrown a surprise anything for her before. The room was filled with smiling faces, all of whom belonged to people Matilda recognized. Lady Tabitha, grinning the widest. Aunt Stapleton, looking smug that her machinations had gone so swimmingly.
And every single gentleman Matilda had ever danced with.
She shot a suspicious look toward Titus. After last night—and her newfound independence—was he still somehow trying to matchmake her to…
No, that wasn’t it at all. He was still glaring holes through every gentleman who dared to raise a glass of champagne in her honor, and visibly restrained himself from stepping between them whenever one of the men approached her to wish happy birthday in person.
This was exactly what he’d said it was: a party. For Matilda.
She made her way about the room, greeting each of the guests and accepting bites of cake and sips of champagne. For most of the revelers, the surprise was not Matilda’s birthday, but that they had been invited to the Earl of Gilbourne’s residence at all.
“Don’t get used to it,” she said with a laugh. “I’d judge you have approximately one hour before he reaches his limit and sends you all home.”
“What about you?” Lady Tabitha asked. “Rumor has it you’re an heiress now. Will you be fishing for a husband in this buffet?”
“No,” Matilda answered. “I’m not…” interested in any of them? A lie. She was madly in love with one of them.
The one standing in the shadowiest corner with his arms crossed and his face scowling like the devil.
“I dreamt of this moment,” Matilda told her. “Of reaching my majority and being granted the freedom to have all the adventure I might desire.”
“It sounds lovely,” Lady Tabitha said with undisguised envy. “What will you do first with your independence?”
“Leave,” she said quietly.
“Greece?” Lady Tabitha guessed. “Paris? Rome? America?”
Matilda shook her head.
Titus had intimated she could stay here in his home with him for as long as she liked, but Matilda had no wish to become a dirty secret. Not that their relationship, if the physical aspect were to continue, would stay secret for long.
She should soon be suspected a fallen woman. Her reputation, ruined. And hope of a future match, gone in a flash. Worth it? At first, she’d thought maybe it would be. Matilda did not want some other man. She wanted Titus.
But if he was unwilling to give his full self… She was not willing to live half a life. To never be fully accepted or chosen.
Better to leave now while she still had her pride.
“Rutland,” she answered.
Lady Tabitha’s forehead lined. “Rutland? What’s that?”
“A country hamlet in the East Midlands. I’ve a small cottage there.”
“You’re going to live one hundred miles away?” Lady Tabitha said in surprise.
Her voice must have carried. Titus materialized at Matilda’s side and turned her to face him.
His face was colorless. “You’re leaving London?”
“I’m going home.”
“But this is…” He swallowed. “I hoped you’d find lodgings nearby. I thought you’d… remain close. Lady Stapleton plans to stay in town for the next several months. I assumed you’d want…”
Matilda held his gaze. “Sometimes a clean break is the only way to heal.”
If there was ever a moment to throw himself at her feet and beg her to stay, this was it.
