“That might be expecting too much, but before I give you time to think up something else to hope for that I won’t be capable of accomplishing, I should take my leave.”
As Bernadette headed for the door, Camilla turned her attention to the telegram in her hand. After opening the envelope, she glanced over the message, having to read it a second time for the contents of that message to actually sink in.
Unfortunately, it was not from her father, as she’d expected, but from Gideon Abbott, her dear friend and also a partner at the Accounting Firm.
A dull throb settled at the base of her neck as she read the telegram through yet again, this time out loud.
LORD SHREWSBURY EN ROUTE TO NEW YORK STOP
DIVORCED HIS WIFE STOP
SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES STOP
HE’S A THREAT TO YOU STOP
LEAVE NEW YORK STOP
ADDITIONAL EXPLANATIONS SOON STOP
I’LL BE HOME IN THREE WEEKS STOP
GIDEON STOP
“Are you alright?”
Camilla lifted her head and found Lottie standing a few feet away, watching her closely.
In all truthfulness, she didn’t know how to respond because George Sherrington, or Lord Shrewsbury if one wanted to properly address a man who was an earl, was the gentleman Camilla had fallen madly in love with when she’d made her debut eight years before.
He was also the gentleman who’d shattered her heart and left her vowing she’d never marry.
There she’d been, all of seventeen, and surrounded by gentlemen who’d flocked to her side the moment she’d stepped foot into the Patriarch Ball, her mother brimming with satisfaction when one gentleman after another declared that Camilla was certainly going to be deemed the Incomparable of the Season.
Introductions had commenced with far too many gentlemen to count, all begging to add their names to her dance card, but any interest in those gentlemen disappeared the moment she clapped eyes on George.
He’d been standing across the room beside Mrs. Martin Barsdull, an esteemed society matron, but he’d not been directing his gaze at that lady—he’d been gazing at Camilla.
Her very breath had mired in her throat, and the entire room faded away except for George because he was the most handsome gentleman she’d ever seen.
Before she could prepare herself, he was walking across the room with Mrs. Barsdull, who immediately performed an introduction,and then ... George presented her with a bow, kissed her gloved hand, and claimed her first dance of the night.
It was the first of many dances over the next three weeks.
Society, of course, immediately took note of Lord Shrewsbury’s interest in her, and what a delightful interest it had been.
He’d been charming and lavished outrageous compliments on her, and because she’d been fresh out of the schoolroom, she’d completely lost her head. When he’d whispered in her ear at the Belmont Ball that he was utterly in love with her, she’d known he was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with and had been thrilled when he told her he was going to ask her father for her hand in marriage.
Her father, Hubert Pierpont, had been anything but thrilled.
Hubert had spent a mere five minutes speaking with George before he’d seen him for exactly what he was—a fortune hunter, one of the many aristocrats who’d come to New York in search of an heiress to plump up their coffers and rebuild their crumbling country estates.
Her father had refused George’s request for Camilla’s hand and explained to the earl in no uncertain terms that if George tried to convince Camilla to marry him without Hubert’s permission, he wouldn’t receive so much as a cent from the dowry Hubert had settled on his one and only daughter.
George had then been escorted out of the house by Mr. Timken and four burly footmen, a circumstance that sent Camilla, who’d been blatantly eavesdropping through an adjoining door, stomping into the room to confront her father.
It was the first time Camilla had ever displayed even an inkling of temper to anyone in her family, as well as the first time she’d ever openly rebelled against her father. She’d told him in no uncertain terms that she and George didn’t need a dowry and that she was going to marry the earl with or without his blessing.
Regrettably, when she’d met up with George later at another ball, he’d not been exactly keen to run off with her. Instead, he’dtaken hold of her hand, kissed it, then explained how his mother—without his knowledge, of course—had arranged for him to marry another lady and, being an honorable gentleman, he had no recourse but to see the marriage through, especially when notices had already been sent to all the papers.
