“It seemed the sensible choice,” Lavinia said, “under the circumstances.”
The logic was impeccable. She was in financial ruin. Of course, it would be Dawnford, who had the instincts of a shark and the morals to match.
“May I ask why,” he said, “when I know you detest him?”
A faint shadow crossed her face, but it vanished so quickly he thought he imagined it. “He has shown adequate interest,” Lavinia replied.
Tristan nearly recoiled from the force of it, but he refused to let the moment slip away so easily. “You are making a mistake,” he said.
Lavinia’s mouth quirked. “You, of all people, are lecturing me on mistakes?”
“I am warning you,” Tristan said, “that Dawnford is not what he seems. His reputation is in shambles, and I have it on good authority that he is being forced to marry for appearance’s sake, to stave off financial loss.”
Lavinia did not so much as blink. “Then we shall be ideally matched, will we not? Frances shall be secure.”
The irony stung. Tristan stared at her, uncomprehending. “You are willing to be a sacrifice, simply for her sake?”
Lavinia’s posture never shifted. “I have been a sacrifice for years, Your Grace. This is merely a more efficient method.”
Something inside him gave a little way. He tried to find the words, but they tangled on his tongue. “Nothing shall sway you?”
“No,” Lavinia said. “I am a woman of strong and independent will, if you recall.”
The words were a direct challenge. He met them as best he could, straightening his spine and letting his mask fall back into place.
“Very well,” he said. “May I at least thank you, Lady Lavinia, for your service to my daughter?”
She nodded. “It was my pleasure. Lady Sophia is a remarkable girl. I hope you will tell her that.”
He tried to say something else, but all that came was a stifled, “Does she know yet?”
“No. I have not had the heart to tell her.”
She turned to leave, and an unusual sort of panic rose within him. Tristan held out a hand without meaning to, and called, “Lavinia.”
Lavinia turned, and her eyes rounded as though she was surprised.
And for the life of him, he did not know what to say to her, or why he stopped her. After a moment, she left and shut the door behind her.
Tristan stared at it for a long time, his hands braced on the desk, and his whole-body trembling with a fury that had nowhere to go.
He was not certain if he was made of ice or stone.
Or perhaps nothing at all.
CHAPTER 31
“Lady Lavinia!”
Sophia’s voice rang, and before Lavinia could enter the drawing room fully, the girl barreled into her, arms looped tight around her waist. In the onslaught, Lavinia nearly toppled, but caught herself with a braced hand on a nearby table.
“I have something for you,” Sophia gasped, her face alight with purpose and pride. “Well, not for you—but for Whisper. Look!” She uncurled her hand to reveal a blue ribbon.
Lavinia did not trust herself to speak for a moment, so she simply ran her thumb over the ribbon, savoring the child’s delight, and smiled. “It is perfect, Sophia. Shall we see if our little prince will wear it?”
Sophia squealed in agreement and darted from her arms, nearly tripping over her own hem. She fished Whisper from behind a sofa cushion, where he had been playing, and presented thekitten for the crowning. The animal submitted to the ordeal with the weary patience of one long resigned to the indignities of affection.
Lavinia kneeled on the rug and let Sophia tie the ribbon in a haphazard bow. Whisper yawned, then set about licking his own shoulder, as if that might restore his dignity. Sophia beamed, her face flushed, and for a moment, Lavinia pretended the world was exactly as it ought to be.
