Bridget winced at the mention ofhisname. She supposed that Amelia was right, though. Bridget was a proper lady. At least, on the surface. Her beauty had always been a source of pride for her, and she doubted that any amount of neglect or little effort could make her appear so hideous that His Grace would not want her.
“Maybe I will shove him into the lake,” Bridget mused.
Amelia gasped.
“By accident, of course.”
“My lady?—”
“But then, Elias would be furious,” Bridget continued, undeterred. “I would rather dissuade the Duke without bringing my brother’s wrath upon me. Do not tell Elias we discussed this.”
“I will not, my lady,” Amelia said.
Bridget was not certain she believed the young woman, but it was not as if Bridget had anyone else with whom she could confide in. Her sisters were both with their husbands, and Lord Arlington and Lady Susan, at least, had made it clear that Bridget was no longer suitable company for respectable young ladies.
“Your discretion is appreciated,” Bridget said.
She stood, and Amelia helped dress her, smoothing out the wrinkles of the lavender gown. Bridget bit the inside of her cheek, as she gazed at herself in the mirror. A wild thought occurred to her: that she might refuse to wear this gown and sully it with his gaze.
“If I cannot shove him into the lake, I must thwart him in some other matter,” Bridget mused.
“I would not know, my lady,” Amelia said. “I have never tried to dissuade a man’s affections.”
“There is nothing affectionate about him.”
“I am sorry, my lady.”
“Everyone is,” Bridget said. “Even the man who intends to marry me is sorry that he must.”
Amelia sighed softly, as Bridget donned her slippers and left her bedchamber. Doubtlessly, Elias would want to have breakfast together and insist that everything was fine. She was beginning to dread meals with her brother.
Bridget paused at the stairs, listening to the soft sound of the staff moving about, out of sight but never far. A lump rose in her throat, for the townhouse had—until recently—been much louder. Catherine’s robust laughs and Dorothy’s gentle chiding had filled the floors. It was so quiet without them. Unnatural.
With a small sigh, she descended. Elias appeared at the foot of the stairs and smiled. “My sister,” he said.
“My brother,” she responded dryly. “I hear that we are to join His Grace at the lake today.”
“We are,” Elias said. “A fitting choice.”
“Why would you say that?”
Elias offered his arm, and Bridget reluctantly put her hand at the crook of his elbow. He was only leading her to breakfast, and she understand too clearly what this genteel behavior indicated. Her brother was feeling guilty and trying to make amends without admitting any wrongdoings.
“I would have thought you would be pleased,” Elias said. “He wishes to meet you at the place where you first made your connection.”
“You mean where he had to rescue me from an embarrassing situation?” Bridget asked. “Very romantic, Elias.”
“I thought so,” he said.
She could not say if he genuinely thought so or if he was simply choosing not to respond to her admittedly dismal response.
“And I am proud of you,” Elias continued.
Bridget laughed in disbelief. “For what?”
“For accepting this,” Elias said. “I know that it is not easy for you.”
She blinked, taken aback. Did he believe that she had accepted her fate? Bridget had not realized that she was so capable ofdeception. If she was very fortunate, she might even be able to convince His Grace of her unsuitability without drawing Elias’s ire or attention.
