“Itisstupid,” Lark said to Fletcher, “but wonderful, too. The best and worst thing you will ever experience.”
Fletcher groaned.
Chapter Fifteen
Louisa had thought her parents would be overjoyed that she wanted to marry the son of their closest friends. In London, they were literally close; until a few years ago when Fletcher’s father’s failing health had inspired him to move to the family’s country house permanently, the Greystone family had lived in the house behind the Pettys’. As a girl, Louisa occasionally slipped out her bedroom window, climbed down a trestle, and across the garden and snuck into the Greystone house via the kitchen. Their cook never locked the back door. As an adult, Louisa suspected that everyone in the house knew what she’d been up to, but at the time, she’d really thought she was getting away with something. She’d sneak through the quiet house and into Fletcher’s room, and they’d talk or play chess until she got tired and snuck back home.
To sneak out of her house now, she didn’t need the window; her parents adjourned for the night on the early side, and by the time Louisa had donned a cloak and decided to sneak out, the staff had all gone to sleep, too. Louisa left through the front door.
Fletcher lived in a town house a short distance from her own home, and she arrived at his door in a matter of minutes. It was a modest home, not one befitting the kind of wealth and stature that Fletcher possessed, but he’d never been showy. Families like Fletcher’s, who had been wealthy and titled for several generations, tended to think conspicuous wealth was gauche and not done.
The street was quiet. No one was about. She knocked on Fletcher’s door and was let in by the butler, who installed her in a sitting room and went to find Fletcher.
Fletcher himself walked into the room a few minutes later, wearing a very fine blue dressing gown that went to his ankles.
“What the devil are you doing here?” Fletcher asked, sounding sleepy and irritated.
Louisa decided to get to the point. “I think we should elope.”
Fletcher’s eyes went wide. “You…what?”
In one burst, Louisa said, “I told my mother that I wanted to end my engagement to Rotherfeld, and she told me that I could not because Rotherfeld has a business arrangement with my father, and even ifyouare willing to marry me, that is not good enough, so I think we need to go to Scotland. Tonight.”
Fletcher just stared at her, his expression incredulous. “I’m sorry. I have a terrible headache. Can you slow down? Your mother will not let you break the engagement?”
“Rotherfeld is in business with my father. I do not know the extent of their agreement, but apparently it is contingent on my marrying Rotherfeld. If I don’t go through with it, my family stands to lose a great deal of money.”
Fletcher frowned. “Oh. So why are you here?”
“You must help me. I want to marry you, Fletcher.”
“You do?” Fletcher looked pained and confused, but a smile briefly peeked through.
“I’ve been thinking about it since the Atherton ball.”
“You have.” He rubbed his forehead and looked dazed. Like all of this was confusing him, but Louisa thought she’d been clear.
“Fletcher…I can’t tell what you’re thinking.Yousaid the night of the ball that youwantto marry me.”
“I do. But you seemed…well, not especially enthusiastic about the idea.”
“There’s just so much…” But she frowned. Perhaps Fletcher misread her the way she’d misread him. They were both idiots. “Fletcher. I intend to marry you and not Rotherfeld, because I loveyou. So if my mother will not let me out of my engagement, then I think we should elope. People do that, right? Get married in Scotland?”
“Yes, but…” Fletcher rubbed his head again. “We cannot simply… Louisa, think about what you are saying.”
“I have given this a great deal of thought.”
“You cannot simply throw over one of the most powerful men of thetonand not expect some kind of retaliation. Not to mention your father’s business deal. If it’s true that if you don’t marry Rotherfeld, your father could lose money, what condition will that leave your family in? There must be a way out without us eloping.”
She made a frustrated grunt and said, “Fletcher, you are being too practical.”
He rubbed his temples. “Too practical? I went out tonight and got very drunk because your reaction to my marriage proposal seemed faint at best, but now you tell me we must elope right now, when I’ve barely had time to process what you’ve just said to me. And you have no consideration of the consequences! We’d be shunned by society, and your father could potentially lose a lot of money! Is that what you want?”
“No, but I won’t marry Rotherfeld.”
Fletcher sighed. He looked tired and sad. “Please hear me when I say that the last thing in the world I want is for you to marry Rotherfeld. I want you to marryme. But we need to take a minute to think this through.”
“You love me.”
