Four months before, he’d specifically asked her to keep away from him. Against her heart’s desire, she had honored that request.
Wednesday, November Fourth.
She’d awoken believing it would be the happiest day of her life, but by the time the sun had set, was left nursing a broken heart. She would never forget the date. It was imprinted on her soul.
He’d presented himself at Crescent Park in the morning and then disappeared into the study with both of her brothers. He had come to ask for her hand and although a marriage between the two of them would be a benefit to both estates, it was also going to be a love match.
Such an alliance would have been a celebrated one—the daughter of a duke to a neighboring earl.
But there had been no celebration that day.
When he’d emerged from Blackheart’s study, Jeremy had not come to her in the drawing room, dropped onto one knee, and declared his undying love.
He had marched angrily past the drawing room, slammed the front door behind him, and then ridden off on his horse as though the hounds of hell had been chasing him.
Her brothers told her the meeting had not concerned her and then refused to give her any other explanation. None of it made sense, and so—even though it was snowing—she’d donned her half-boots, woolen coat, mittens, and scarf and traversed the well-worn path to Galewick Manor. What could her brothers possibly have done to offend him?
She had been concerned but not overly so. It had to have been a simple misunderstanding. She could fix this. She wouldtalk with him, apologize for her brothers, and he could continue courting her.
She’d entered the library at Galewick Manor feeling hopeful, but that hope had faltered when he’d greeted her with cold and unwelcoming eyes. She’d seen him tired and hurt and filled with despair, but she’d never seen him angry.
He’d ordered her to cease her visits. He didn’t want to have anything to do with her family ever again. And that had included her.
She’d begged him to tell her why, to make her understand, but just like her brothers, he’d failed to give her a reason.
By the time she’d trudged home, her hope had died.
Four months had passed since he’d broken her heart. She hadn’t laid eyes on him again until today.
But for the murmuring of masculine voices from below and an occasional cheer, the two of them approached the staircase in silence. Three ladies now circulated amongst the gentlemen in the gaming area below, all of them scantily dressed in identical gowns.
From her vantage point, Lydia noticed feathers tucked into their chic but messy buns, their curled hair twisted into tall styles atop their heads.
Trailing her hand along the smooth railing, she felt unusually plain and drab as she descended to the main floor.
“Not all ladies are daughters of a duke,” Jeremy chastised, apparently misreading her lingering gaze. He gripped her elbow in case she needed steadying as they began their descent, but the contact was minimal and obviously reluctant, his disdain somehow palpable even in his touch.
Lydia fidgeted with her gloves when they finally arrived at the club entrance, spotting the same large man from before.
“Mr.… Ben? Would you please have Lady Baxter’s carriage brought around?” she asked primly, aware that Jeremy waswatching her, leaning casually against one of the large columns that flanked the door.
She hated that she was wearing one of the plainest gowns she owned—a brown muslin, with patches on the skirt and unadorned by any embroidery or lace. She and Clarissa had both agreed it would be best not to stand out when they visited the docks.
She also hated that she wanted his good opinion and that the skin where he’d touched her still tingled.
“I won’t hold you to Lord Baxter’s suggestion,” she offered. “I’ll find another sponsor.” It might delay the opening of the orphanage, but as Blackheart’s sister, she wasn’t without connections.
“I’m afraid the decision isn’t mine to make.” He continued staring at her, unsmiling.
“But if you are involved, you’ll have no choice but to work with me, perhaps daily at times. And quite possibly my brothers as well. I thought you never wanted to see us Cockfields again.”
“Some things are worth the trouble.” He pushed away from the wall.
“You mean this other project Lord Baxter mentioned?”
His mouth remained set and hard. “Yes.”
Was that all she was to him now?Trouble?
