The Earl swallowed his mouthful and flashed a bright smile on her. “Now, I know it must be very hard on you to watch yourfather's estate be passed onto me, but that is the way of it, and nothing can be done,” he said, speaking as though he were offering comfort.
Seraphine tightened her grip on her teacup. There it was again. As though she required reminding. As though she woke each morning and forgot that everything she had known now belonged to him.
“Of course, my lord,” she replied sweetly, lifting the cup to her lips to hide her expression.
William nodded approvingly as he reached for a pastry. “Excellent attitude, it does you credit, cousin,” he declared.
Seraphine imagined throwing her teacup directly at his head. Instead, she smiled.
Years of surviving her father had taught her self-control. What she wanted to say was that William did not deserve any of it. He had not endured her father's temper, nor spent years walking upon eggshells. He had not lived beneath the shadow of a man who ruled through fear. She had. And now the reward for surviving all that hardship was eviction.
Life is remarkably unfair.
The Earl selected a pastry and pointed it vaguely in her direction.
“You still need to find a husband within the month,” he reminded her cheerfully. The words landed like a hammer.
Seraphine lifted her teacup and took a careful sip before replying. “If I fail, there is always Westborough Abbey.”
“Precisely!” William exclaimed with alarming enthusiasm. He sounded pleased. “My sister adjusted wonderfully there,” he continued as he bit into the toast. “You shall have company.”
“How comforting,” Seraphine said, managing a polite smile.
“It is,” William assured her with a satisfied nod.
It was not. Not remotely.
Seraphine forced her smile to remain in place. “Thank you for giving me an entire month before removing me from my family home.”
William beamed. “You are most welcome.”
Good heavens. The man genuinely believes he is generous.
“The days are ticking away,” he continued. “You must fill your schedule with social engagements immediately. Dinners. Balls. Musical evenings. House parties. Anything involving unmarried gentlemen.”
He pointed his fork at her as though delivering a profound piece of wisdom. “I cannot wait to see what sort of husband you secure,” he said before helping himself to another bite of breakfast.
Seraphine stared at him across the table, her expression growing increasingly bleak.
William completely misinterpreted it. “Do not worry,” he assured her with an encouraging smile. “You should have excellent prospects.”
Wonderful.
Before she could formulate a response that would not get her banished immediately, the butler entered the room.
“The Duchess of Amberhall.”
Relief flooded Seraphine so suddenly she nearly sighed aloud. Her cousin’s expression changed at once. He stood up from his chair, smoothed his waistcoat, and arranged his features into what he likely believed was a charming smile. Then he leaned towards Seraphine and lowered his voice.
“Do not dare tell her anything,” he warned, the genial mask slipping just long enough for the threat beneath it to become unmistakable.
A moment later the smile returned as though it had never left.
Interesting. Remarkably interesting that he cares what Thalia thinks to protect his reputation.
The doors opened and Thalia swept into the room. She was elegant as always, dressed in pale blue silk and carrying herself with the confidence of a woman who feared absolutely nothing.
Marriage suited her. So did being unimaginably wealthy.
