Page 56
Fowell chuckled, and Archie shot him a sidelong glance. “You find that amusing?”
“Come, Dalmeer,” he replied. “Let us dispense with the pretense regarding Miss Prescott.”
Archie faced him. “I am at a loss to understand you.”
“Are you? No, you are too sharp for me to credit that.”
Archie stared at him as the blood in his veins began to simmer.
Fowell lifted a brow. “Ah. Am I to pretend I know nothing of the conservatory? Rest assured your secret is safe with me.”
For perhaps the first time in his life, Archie found himself without a response.
Fowell knew.
But how?
The servant who had seen them had left Bellthorne. Apparently, not before recounting what he had witnessed to Fowell. Had he told others?
Archie’s stomach went sour, but before he could decide what to say, three guests entered, none of them Miss Prescott.
All thought of remaining there until she arrived deserted him. He left his plate at the end of the sideboard, aware that Fowell’s gaze was upon him as he left the room.
His normally comfortable gait was quick and purposeful as he made his way down the corridor. There was only one thing to be done, and as much as it terrified him to think of marrying someone he cared so much for, it was a risk he would take.
Wanted to take? Indeed, the thought of not taking held just as much fear.
Archie stopped in front of Miss Prescott’s door and raised his hand to knock just as it opened.
She froze at the sight of him, and so did he.
Would this beautiful, intelligent woman be his wife?
He glanced behind her, looking for any sign of a maid. “May I speak with you? In private?”
The surprise in her eyes shifted to something like wariness. “I am not certain that would be wise, my lord.”
“Nell,” he said softly, taking a step toward her.
She swallowed, then looked down, pulling up at the seam of her glove.
He had never seen her so reluctant. Did she regret those moments in the conservatory?
Had he persuaded himself that she held an affection for him? It had felt undeniable at times, but now…
“Please,” he pleaded. “I shan’t take much of your time, but…I must speak with you.”
She swallowed, searching his gaze as her own grew almost sad. She stepped backward and opened the door enough for him to enter. “Come in.”
With relief, Archie entered, and she closed the door softly.
Her bearing was stiff as she turned to face him. Proper. Distant.
“I just spoke with Fowell,” Archie said.
Her gaze lowered again.
“He knows about…yesterday.”
