Mr. Melbourne cleared his throat, pulling Thomas’s attention back to him. “Didn’t I hear you are working in New York City?”
“Yes. With my uncle, who is in banking. He is well connected in New York.” Thomas realized this was his chance. While he hadn’t yet spoken with Frances, he had to believe she felt the same way he did.
“Banking, eh? Excellent.” Mr. Melbourne nodded in approval.
“Once I’ve learned more about the business, I plan to return to London. Perhaps in a year or two.” He hoped it wouldn’t be longer than that, though after depleting his meager savings to assist the Schmidts, it might be. He glanced at Frances, who watched her father, unable to tell what she was thinking.
It was now or never, Thomas decided as he cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. “Despite the fact that I will soon be returning to New York, I would like the honor of calling on your daughter, if she’s agreeable.”
Frances’ eyes widened even as her lips parted with surprise.
Mr. Melbourne chuckled, an odd reaction as far as Thomas was concerned. “That must mean you heard about the increase in her dowry.”
Frances’ gaze dropped to the floor at her father’s remark, making Thomas even more uncomfortable. Didn’t Mr. Melbourne realize how his comment made her feel? Thomas hardly knew how to respond. He shifted, feeling his face flush. He wished his mother hadn’t said anything, but he refused to be dishonest.
“I did hear something about it, but that isn’t the reason for my request.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Mr. Melbourne said with a smile that made his doubt clear. “It is of no consequence.”
“But, sir,” Thomas began, uncertain what to say but hating the way Frances remained completely still, her face pale. It was as if she’d reverted to the lady he’d met at the house party. As if they hadn’t shared the conversations, merriment, and kisses that brought them closer since his return to London.
“No need to explain.” Mr. Melbourne glanced at his daughter. The tightening of his expression suggested he was less than pleased at the thought of Thomas as a suitor for his only daughter.
“I will speak with Frances, regarding your request,” Mr. Melbourne continued. “You and I will talk again soon.”
Thomas hesitated, not wanting to leave when the situation was so unsettled. Was there something more he could say? But Frances wouldn’t look at him. What choice did he have but to go?
He didn’t think he’d misunderstood her feelings toward him. Yet she wasn’t happy.
Perhaps she hoped to make a better match than someone like him. He wasn’t wealthy and had no title. His future prospects had yet to be proven. She could do much better than him. No doubt her father agreed.
A heavy weight settled on Thomas’s shoulders, pressing down until it was an effort to breathe let alone move. “Of course,” he managed. “I look forward to it.”
After one more look at Frances, he departed, unable to understand how things had gone so wrong so quickly.
Chapter Fifteen
Frances rubbed a hand over her chest, feeling as if Thomas had taken a piece of her heart when he’d left. She’d spent the entire night tossing and turning, unable to determine what answer to give to his request to court her.
How terrible that her wildest dream had come true but not in the way she’d hoped.
The voice in her head that refused to be silenced insisted that he’d only asked to call on her because of the increase in her dowry.
Which meant he’d only been pretending to care for her. Her father’s wealth was all that mattered.
Not her.
Oh, that hurt. It made her ache with the loss of her dream. Still, she tried to question those thoughts, especially when she remembered the laughter they’d shared while making presents for the children.
Those tender moments when they’d gathered greenery.
The way he’d looked at her after they’d kissed.
Those memories made her long even more for him to love her.
But she couldn’t believe for a moment that she mattered, when all these years without a suitor proved otherwise. Shame and humiliation heated her entire body that she’d been so stupid to believe love might be possible for her, just as it had when Lord Dalton, the duke’s son, had asked her to dance all those years ago only to win a wager.
She wasn’t pretty enough. Wasn’t clever enough. Wasn’t enough. No matter how hard she tried.
