“Indeed.” The butler gestured in the direction of the dining room. “They are having breakfast as we speak.”
Alistair didn’t wait for the man to show him the way, striding forward briskly until he reached his destination. Halting for a moment, he drew a deep breath, steadying his resolve before opening the door wide and striding through it. Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at him.
“Alistair!” Abigail was the first to convey her surprise. She prepared to rise, but he motioned for her to stay seated. “Is Miss Potter with you? I’m so eager to meet her.”
“She will arrive later,” he said.
A bit of silence followed that revelation, and then Lord Channing gestured toward a vacant chair. “Do come and join us, Alistair. I’m sure you must be eager for some refreshment after your journey.”
It was tempting to accept, but the anxiousness coursing through him would not make sitting still at the table a pleasant experience. “Thank you, but I would prefer to wait in the library.” Addressing Gwendolyn, he added, “If you would please join me there when you’re ready, I’d be much obliged.”
Gwendolyn’s eyes widened. “Of course,” she murmured.
Silence followed for an awkward moment. Alistair met his brother’s grave expression with one of his own and then quit the room, closing the door behind him.
* * *
Pacing backand forth in the library, Alistair waited for what seemed like an insufferable length of time, even though the clock said no more than fifteen minutes had passed by the time Gwendolyn arrived.
“I trust you are well,” she said, before taking a seat on the sofa.
He remained by the fireplace. “Quite. And you?”
“I wish the weather were warmer, but aside from that, I have no complaints.”
Nodding, Alistair wondered how best to broach the subject he wished to discuss with her, and then decided directness might serve him best in this instance. “Regarding my brother’s insistence we marry...” he began.
A tiny crease appeared upon her brow. “He says it will be the perfect match.”
“Is that what you believe?”
Her silence unnerved him, forcing him to cross the floor. He paused, then turned and strode back, flexing his fingers while doing his best not to yell with frustration. Drawing a fortifying breath, he pinned her with his gaze. “Gwendolyn?”
She bit her lip and looked away. “Yes.”
His heart plummeted all the way to his toes. This would not be as simple as walking away. And yet, there was something in her expression and posture that gave him pause. “Then allow me to ask you a different question. Will marrying me make you happy?”
She raised her head so sharply he took a step back. Her eyes met his, and he felt his heart pause on a thread of hope. “I mean no offense when I tell you this, but I have no desire to be your wife.”
That thread of hope began to expand. “You don’t?”
“No. I’m in love with someone else – an untitled gentleman, as a matter of fact. Channing wants to see me happy, so he approves of the match.”
“Does Langley know about this?”
She shook her head. “We thought it best for me to break the news to you directly before informing your brother.”
The thrill Alistair felt in response to those words was so acute he could scarcely credit it. He stared at Gwendolyn, at the woman who’d represented a dreaded fate until she herself had saved him from it. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I hope you’re not too disappointed or angry.”
“No. Of course not.” His heart was humming with joy. “I am none of those things. On the contrary, I am grateful to you, and so incredibly pleased on both our behalves.”
* * *
By the timeshe arrived at the manor that would now be her home, the enthusiasm Louise had felt when she’d set out from London had completely vanished. Still, she did her best to smile as she greeted her employers.
“You’re younger than I expected,” Lady Channing said when Louise met her in the parlor after settling in. “Prettier too.”
