“Pleasego.”
CHAPTEREIGHT
“Ibeg your pardon?” said Lord Cassin.
“I would ask you”—she paused, determined that her voice would not break—“to leave, my lord. We have no more business.”
You knew better, she told herself.You knew all along.
“But I . . . ” he began. “It was never my intention to—”
“Excuses are unnecessary.”
His expression had taken on a stricken sort of shock; he actually looked a little afraid of her. It was appropriate. She was a little afraid of herself, teetering on the terrible edge where anger and embarrassment collide.
He had deliberately misled her; he’d sat idly by as she revealed things known to only a handful of people in the world. He’d provoked her with questions, and she’d allowed him to do so, going on and on about her future and her past, the whys and wherefores of it all.
Meanwhile, he’d known all along.
I will not marry you for any amount of money.
He’d known, and she’d known. He was an earl, and she was barren and, well, men simply did not regard her in the wifely way. Even men who would marry her and not know her as a wife at all.
But now she’d revealed the history of her health and every dream she’d held dear since girlhood, and he was pretending to feel remorse while she was pretending not to be mortified.
But the pretense ended now. Her vision swam as she strode to the door, and she walked faster. A traitorous tear slid down her cheek, and she looked right as she turned left to hide her hands swiping it away.
Inexplicably, she heard his footsteps behind her. They were determined, hurried on the marble floor. The remaining dog yipped and jumped at his boots. She walked faster.
“Abbott?”she called over her shoulder, invoking every known rudeness to actually shout the butler’s name.
“Lady Willow, stop,” Cassin called. “Please wait. I should like to explain.”
And I should like to disappear. She cut left down the side corridor that ran the length of the ballroom.
At the far end of the corridor, her most current project—a small circular vestibule—glowed from the light of its many windows. It was a reading nook, or it would be when she’d finished. He would not follow her there. She was in shock, actually, that he’d followed her out of the blue room. Even her mother’s little dog had not kept pace. At any moment, Abbott would intercept the earl and—
“Lady Willow, I beg you,” Lord Cassin said behind her.“Please wait.”
His footsteps were faster now. He made the corner.
I will not marry you for any amount of money.The words resounded in her head, chasing her, mocking her, and before she knew what she intended, she spun around.“What?”she demanded.
He nearly collided with her. “Forgive me, I merely . . . it’s just that I—”
“That you what?”
Mutely, he shook his head. He held out his hands as if to say,There are no words.
Yes,she wanted to shout,you’ve made me bloody . . . cry!AndYes, there are no words!
Pride bade her take a deep breath and school her expression into calm indifference. Mildly, she asked, “What more could possibly be said?”
“Well,” he began, “I . . . I wasn’t aware that your heart was quite so set on, er, me.”
Finally, thank God, anger darted ahead of hurt. She welcomed the hot, pointed spike of it. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cassin. Myheartis set on leaving Surrey and moving to London. You were a means to an end. Someone else will do just as well.”
“You’re joking. You cannot mean to continue these . . . solicitations?”
