“Thank you, Your Grace, but that’s really not—”
“This way, my lady.” Redding marched off, leaving Louise with little choice but to follow since one did not ignore a duke. He showed her into a small room and asked her to look at a series of images. “It does appear as though you could do with a thicker lens on your left eye. It’s not paining you in any way is it?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Mr. Berkly mentioned the tiny fragment he fears may have gotten lost inside your eye during the surgery. I just want to make sure there’s no risk of infection.” When Louise assured him the eye felt fine, he nodded. “Mr. Cheswick over at the Royal Infirmary for Diseases of the Eye on Cork Street will be able to help you with your spectacles.”
“Can Mr. Berkly not do so?”
“I’m afraid not.” Redding scribbled a note which he handed to her. “Give this to Mr. Cheswick upon your arrival, and he’ll clear his schedule for you.”
“Thank you.” She put the note in her reticule and stood. Pondering her next words, she turned to Redding, a man who’d always struck her as being easy to talk to in spite of his high rank within Society. “He doesn’t wish to see me. Does he?”
Redding shook his head. “I’m sorry, my lady. Truly I am. If it’s any consolation, I do believe he’s trying to do what is best for you.”
“I appreciate your telling me this, though it’s no consolation at all. I…” She sighed and averted her gaze to hide the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Swallowing, she flattened her lips and squared her shoulders to bolster herself. Redding was a busy man. He did not need to hear of her lovesick woes. “Thank you for your time and for the referral.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And please pass on my best wishes to Mr. Berkly.”
“Of course.”
She didn’t hesitate further, but rather rushed to the door with a sudden desire to make her escape as swiftly as possible. Collecting Hannah in the foyer, Louise left St. Agatha’s without having made the progress she’d been so certain of making when she’d gotten out of bed that morning.
“How did it go?” Hannah asked.
“He doesn’t want to see me.” Louise stared out the hackney window with hopelessness worse than any she’d ever experienced before. Not even when she’d feared she might one day be permanently blind had she felt this dismal. “Apparently, he’s trying to do what’s best for me.”
“Which means you’re wrong, my lady.”
Louise turned away from the window and frowned at her maid. “How so?”
“He does want to see you. He just doesn’t think he should. Because he’s putting you first. Or something like that.”
Louise stared at Hannah in dismay. Her reasoning, if correct, meant Mr. Berkly cared for her after all. Perhaps as much as she cared for him?
“I have to find another way then.” At St. Agatha’s, Mr. Berkly had the benefit of being guarded. He’d been able to turn her away, to have Redding deal with her in his stead. But if she stopped by his home…
She absolutely could not do so.
An unmarried woman had no business visiting a bachelor unless she intended to cause a scandal and get herself ruined. If Louise did it and her father found out, there would be hell to pay. In fact, the repercussion would in all likelihood be so awful, it defied her own imagination.
So to risk it would be madness, unless she did so for the right reason, like being willing to sacrifice the comfort of her position, the dowry her father would likely deny her, and every privilege she’d enjoyed her entire life as the daughter of an earl. It was a lot to think about - a most serious matter - and a choice she could not afford to get wrong. Once made, she’d have to live with it forever.
As a result, in the days that followed she changed her opinion on the prospect of such a potentially damning decision at least a hundred times. Meanwhile, Mr. Fairbanks kept stopping by. He’d taken her to the theatre, to Vauxhall, and for dinner at Mivart's. And this was without considering all the additional walks they’d taken together, during which she’d learned little else about him. Besides the fact that his company was pleasant. For all the substance Mr. Fairbanks lacked, he was always in a good mood and treated her well.
“You look lovely as always,” he told her one day when he stopped by for afternoon tea.
“Thank you.” She offered a smile along with a selection of tasty biscuits.
He selected one while Mama and Papa looked on from their position on the opposite sofa. Neither had ever looked happier. Not even when Louise’s sisters had snatched their titles. What rattled her brain most, however, was that Mr. Fairbanks wasn’t her only suitor. Mr. Newdale was also taking an interest, if all the flowers he kept sending were any indication. So even if Louise had decided to hang her reputation and chase after Mr. Berkly, she’d not been able to find the time.
“I trust you will be at the Windham ball tomorrow evening?” Mr. Fairbanks asked. His eyes warm and inviting, yet lacking the spark she always found in Mr. Berkly’s, settled upon her face with a quiet sort of determination.
“Of course,” Papa said before Louise could speak. “We shall all be there.”
Mr. Fairbanks smiled and took a sip of his tea. “In that case, I hope you will do me the honor of partnering me for the first dance.”
