Page 23 of The Earl She Once Saved

Rafe coughed into his hand. Ezra stared at Win for one beat longer. Then he gave her his arm. Win adjusted herself beneath the weight without comment, and something about the way they found the balance, with his hand against her forearm and her shoulder beneath his, looked unexpectedly natural.

“Better?” she asked.

He frowned. “No.”

They continued upward. Verity watched them go. Beside her, Rafe said nothing. Neither did she. But she noticed he was smiling again.

That, too, was inconvenient.

***

Aunt Cordelia entered Verity’s room before luncheon carrying an invitation as though it were either a royal decree or a declaration of war.

“Verity.”

“No.”

Her aunt stopped. “You do not yet know what I mean to ask.”

Verity sighed. “You are holding gilt-edged paper and wearing your determined face.”

“I have several determined faces.”

“I know them all,” Verity reminded her, though not without amusement.

Aunt Cordelia ignored this and crossed the room.

“The Marchmonts are giving a ball on Friday.”

Verity turned from the dressing table. “No.”

“Verity.”

Verity did not even look at her. “No.”

“But my dear, you cannot refuse every invitation indefinitely,” her aunt pointed out wisely.

“I have managed admirably thus far.”

“That is not the point.”

“It is very much the point.”

Cordelia unfolded the card.

“Everyone will be there,” her aunt echoed.

Verity was not convinced. “Then my absence will leave them more room.”

“This is serious.”

“So am I.”

Her aunt’s mouth tightened. Verity looked back toward the looking glass. She was still wearing the dark morning dress from Hartley’s cottage. A faint smudge of mud remained near the hem. She had not yet changed because changing clothes required the admission that the morning had moved on.

She could still see Tom Hartley’s hand in hers. She could still hear him asking her to care for Mary and Jenny. She could still feel Rafe watching.

Aunt Cordelia laid the invitation on the table. “You must be seen.”