‘Thank you.’
‘Amabel…’ Florence repeated as he shut the door, her cheeks completely bloodless now. ‘What do you think she’s doing here?’
‘I don’t know.’ He wrapped his arms around her. ‘But if you don’t want to see her—’
‘I do. Of course I do. It’s just a shock, that’s all. I thought she didn’t want anything to do with me.’
‘Maybe she’s changed her mind. Come on.’ He gave her a quick squeeze before stepping back. ‘The sooner we get dressed and down there, the sooner we’ll find out.’
‘Major Vaughan, Mrs Vaughan, this is a surprise.’ Leo stood by Florence’s side as they entered the drawing room only ten minutes later. She was putting on a brave face, but her skin was still much too pale, her hands were trembling and her eyes had a stunned look. Suddenly he wished he’d taken the opportunity to stop outside the door and give her one last supportive embrace.
‘My lord, my lady.’ Miss Wadlow, or Mrs Vaughan as he supposed he ought to think of her now, stepped forward from where she was standing by the window and curtseyed, looking as beautiful and elegant as ever, her sable hair artfully styled into a braided bun and her glowing complexion perfectly complemented by an apricot-coloured day gown. ‘Please forgive the intrusion. We would have sent word ahead, but we came in such a rush and…well…’ She twisted her hands together as her gaze moved between them. ‘We thought, given the circumstances, you might not mind too greatly.’
‘You’re here…’ Florence sounded as if she couldn’t quite believe the evidence of her own eyes.
‘Yes.’ Amabel half turned towards the auburn-haired man standing soberly beside her. ‘This is my husband, Major Vaughan. James. You met him a few times in London, if you recall?’
‘I remember.’
‘An honour to meet you, Major.’ Leo gestured towards a collection of leather armchairs. ‘Shall we all sit down?’
‘Thank you, my lord.’ Major Vaughan made a formal bow before taking the chair beside Amabel’s. ‘I’m afraid the matter we’ve come to discuss is somewhat delicate.’
‘Yes,delicate!’ Amabel seized on the word. ‘And…difficult.’
‘I don’t care. I’m just so glad you’re here.’ Florence sank down onto the chair opposite. ‘I wanted to write, but I didn’t know what to say, where to begin—’
‘Then let me. Please. If I don’t do this quickly then I might lose my nerve.’ Amabel reached for her husband’s hand. ‘The fact is, I recently received a letter from Mama. She told me about your visit to her in London and that you’d lost your memory in an accident. Is that true?’
‘Yes.’ Florence nodded slowly. ‘I lost a whole month, from the night before your parents’ ball.’
‘That’s what she wrote.’ Amabel swallowed. ‘It’s why I had to come back. I had to see you.’
‘Truly?’ Florence’s chest heaved with emotion. ‘So you don’t hate me?’
‘I could never hate you.’ Amabel’s eyes began to glisten. ‘You’re my dearest friend. You always have been.’
‘But I betrayed you. I stole your future.’
‘No.’ Tears were already sliding down Amabel’s cheeks. ‘That’s what I came back to tell you. When I learned about your accident, and that you’d gone to London looking for answers, I realised how it all must have seemed, what everyone would say and what you would think… I’ve felt perfectly wretched ever since.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Florence shook her head, uncomprehending. ‘Why wouldyoufeel wretched?’
‘Because none of it was your fault. It was all mine.’
‘Mrs Vaughan.’ Leo sat forward, feeling a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. ‘On the night of the ball, you were as shocked as anyone to find Florence and myself together. You said—’
‘I lied,’ Amabel interrupted.
There was a heavy moment of silence.
‘You…lied?’ He repeated the words heavily.
‘Yes. She wasn’t the one who trapped you into marriage. I was.’
‘But…’ Florence put a hand on his arm ‘…I’mthe one he married.’
‘I know.’ Amabel lowered her head, pressing her lips together tightly before answering. ‘Because I trapped him into marriage withyou.’
