“Well, it turned out Mr. Cole was not so harmless after all. He got it into his head that Lord Howell was not a good match for her… although, in fairness, there had been some unpleasantness… but I digress.
“In fact, he thought himself a better choice and took certain steps to force an end to the engagement so that he might marry my friend instead.”
Miss Kinsey’s meandering speech came to the point so suddenly, the truth thrown out so brutally, that Verity gasped aloud.
“I see I have shocked you. Truly, I am grateful to see it, for it means you did not know. I told Ellena as much. I said that you did not seem the sort to befriend a man whom you believed lacked morals. It is a relief to see I was right.”
“There must be some sort of misunderstanding,” Verity protested. “You say there was unpleasantness. Mr. Cole must have believed he was acting in Lady Howell’s interests.”
Miss Kinsey nodded. “That is how he defended his actions. But they were done in a scheming, underhanded way. He knew his guilt, for when Lord Howell warned of making his behavior public, Mr. Cole left Munro at once, under the pretense of marrying someone in his village. I now understand that was meant to be you. And I am beyond grateful that you did not accept his offer.”
Verity felt numb. She did not share in Miss Kinsey’s relief. Her world had just slid violently into an abyss. The man she loved, the man she thought she knew, was a conniving, manipulative fiend. He had never cared for her. She had been a distraction from the loss of another he had wanted so fiercely that he had acted in a manner that had been shameful and secretive. Her imagination began to conjure up what form his deviousness may have taken, but she shut these thoughts down at once, for they only deepened the pain of his betrayal.
She didn’t know which cut the deepest, the fact that Mr. Cole’s courtship of her had been a mockery, or the knowledge that he had loved another with such distorted passion that he would plot to have that woman for himself.
Surely, said a small voice desperate to believe in him, he must have thought he was saving Lady Howell—or Miss Trenton as she had been then—a motive so strong that would drive him to commit such a gross offense. But Verity had seen the viscount and viscountess together. They were happy, content. Whatever had troubled their relationship had not lasted. Mr. Cole had been profoundly mistaken.
And then, in obedience to his parents’ wishes, he had made a show of his attentions to Verity. Even bringing a gift to convince everyone he cared. No wonder he had fled at the first obstacle. His heart had never been open to her.
Verity felt the weight of a sob trying to escape her throat.
“Oh, Miss Lockhart, you look quite ill! Let me get you some water.” Miss Kinsey—her brow wreathed with lines, her skin paling as she rushed to pour Verity a glass—was at a loss for words. “Oh, dear,” was all she managed to say. And again, “Oh, dear.”
Verity sipped the water, using the motion to swallow down her tears.
“I am so very sorry,” Miss Kinsey said softly, her liveliness quite gone as she wrapped a hand around Verity’s shoulder. “I should have considered how this would affect you. I was so eager to protect you from Mr. Cole’s wiles, I quite forgot to protect you from the pain of the truth. And you, being such a trusting friend, would feel this deeply. I should have been more careful in my discourse, easing you toward the facts. It was remiss of me. I have been callous. I am so sorry.”
A bloom of memory filled Verity’s mind. A different apology, equally heartfelt. At the Macraes’ ball, Mr. Cole had humbledhimself in this way, admitting mistakes of the past and the hurt they had caused. His gift, he had assured her, had been sincerely meant, his intentions honorable, his manner of going about it regrettable. Would he not feel the same about his behavior toward Lady Howell? Had he not grown since then?
Verity was completely torn. She wanted so much to believe in him, and she had seen plenty to give her hope. But knowing that he had been capable of such subterfuge and plotting… Could she ever trust a man like that completely? Perhaps Miss Kinsey was right. It was well they had only been friends. She was better off with an unassuming man like Dr. Westbridge. A man who might not set her pulse racing but who also would not let her down.
As if the heavens approved her thoughts, Dr. Westbridge called across to them. “I have found a treasure trove of them! Come and see!”
He was so excited with his innocent discovery. It seemed to Verity that Dr. Westbridge showed far more enthusiasm in this moment than he ever had toward her as a woman. She sighed. Would this always be his way? And could that be enough?
If only she might live alone and not be a burden on her family, she would not have to make such thankless choices about men.
She stood up, Miss Kinsey’s hand slipping from her shoulder. “Are you all right?” Miss Kinsey asked. “I could occupy him while you find your equilibrium.”
“I am fine,” Verity lied. “Come, let us not waste the rest of the afternoon.” She smiled thinly, then proceeded toward the lake once more. A man’s voice behind her made her turn briefly to see the footman presenting Miss Kinsey’s wrap to her, then, upon her approval, placing it about her shoulders.
At the water’s edge, Dr. Westbridge joyfully showed his wondrous find. Verity marveled at the clumps of yellow rice grains that were, in fact, tansy eggs, clinging to the undersideof a broad leaf. She had seen them before at her pond, and there was something calming about their familiarity. Nature was predictable, reliable. Unlike men.
A further search produced a warbler nest filled with pale-blue, speckled eggs, and an angry parent nearby, trilling a warning. Meanwhile, Miss Kinsey—who had kept herself somewhat apart, in a likely effort to promote intimacy between Verity and the doctor—had finished braiding her floral wreaths. She now handed them to Dr. Westbridge. “Will you do the honors, sir?” She dipped her head for him to place the circlet over it.
Dr. Westbridge obliged, then readied the next for Verity, who lowered herself into a curtsey. As he lifted his arms to deliver the wreath, Verity looked up and found herself staring right into his eyes. He gave a genial smile. His gaze did not flame with desire, nor did he allow his hand to slip and touch her cheek. But after the daisy chain was settled around her neck, he reached forward delicately and said, “If you’ll permit,” before removing a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. The movement was neither brisk and businesslike nor slow and sensual. It was kind, considerate… and had no effect on Verity whatsoever.
What is wrong with me?Verity had felt nothing at his touch. Nor had she sensed any feeling emanating fromhim. If any such emotion existed, he had exercised great restraint not to show it. But Verity did notwantrestraint. She wanted his closeness to quicken his heart and hers. Yet he stirred no tingling in her flesh. Just a pleasant feeling of safety, as with one’s father or brother.
Oh, just wonderful! Dr. Westbridge feels like a brother!She wanted to bury her face in her hands.
Even if hewasexercising admirable self-control,shehad no inclination to do so. Verity was ready to be awoken in love. She wanted to be swept off her feet. But the steady gaze and direct touch of the good doctor had left her feeling… unmoved.
What did it matter if they shared the same passion in science if they did not share it more, well,carnally? She had feelings like that for Mr. Cole by the bucketload! Buthe, by Miss Kinsey’s account, was not safe.
Bother men! Bother, bother, bother! She wanted neither brother nor cad. At this rate, she was better off on her own. Her mother might be keen to see her married, but Munro’s male population was sorely disappointing.
“Thank you,” she said to Dr. Westbridge as a courtesy without substance, just as his touch had felt functional and empty. She caught Miss Kinsey’s eye and received a surreptitious wink, which she promptly ignored. She was tired of games. Everyone thought they knew what she needed, pushing her toward matches that they believed right for her. Her mother, her sister, Miss Kinsey, even the trio of Cole siblings.
