Page 33

Again, she hesitated. How much of her weaknesses did she really wish to expose to this man? “I suppose.”

“This is because you are not yet out in Society?”

Her gaze darted toward him, but he remained focused on the water. So, he knew, then?

As if he heard her silent question, he responded, “I overheard a conversation at the Blue Boar.”

She should have known. It was not as if she was trying to hide it from him. Besides, all of Ashwick seemed to discuss her life with everyone but her.

“Yes, that is precisely why I feel trapped,” she said. “Which is why you must think I’m mad whenever I speak to you. Asking all sorts of imposing questions, urging you to work faster so I can occupy the library again, lying about my sister taking a liking to you.” Heat flushed through her cheeks. “I am ashamed of my behavior.”

Why was he not leaving? After everything she’d said to him, after the way she’d treated him, why did he remain at her side?

“I do not think you are mad. But I am glad to hear the reasoning behind your actions.” He looked over at her, his dark eyes searching her face. “I assume everything you have done was for the sake of your sister? If she marries, then you may enter Society yourself?”

She cringed at how selfish the words made her sound. She wanted Beatrice to be happily settled, but then Marianne also wanted her own chance at a happy match. The older she became, the more difficult that would be.

“Yes,” she responded. “I asked you those questions at Briarwood because I thought I could sort through men faster than she would. Then I lied to you in the hope that you might have convinced her to fall in love with you. But I was a fool. She’d never marry a—”

She stopped herself, but it was too late. Curse her wretched tongue. She glanced at Mr. Steele, but he merely gave a saddened half-smile.

“She’d never marry a lowly woodcarver,” he finished for her.

She grimaced. “Not lowly. But a member of a lower class, yes.”

He nodded his understanding, remaining silent.

How she longed to dive straight into that pond and swim away from her troubles forever.

As if synchronized with her mood, a cool wind blew past them, sliding across her shoulders like a chill, unwelcome embrace. She brought her knees to her chest and rested her chin against them, securing her shawl more tightly around her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I did not mean to…We were once of a lower class, too. I suppose we still are.”

He nodded. “There is no need to apologize. I’m flattered you would even consider me worthy to marry your sister. But in truth…I’m not worthy.”

“You are being too modest, Mr. Steele.”

“I wish I was.” His eyes sought hers. “But there are things…” He broke off with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

His struggle to speak played out on his face as he grimaced.

“You needn’t worry about sharing if you do not wish to,” she offered.

But he shook his head. “No, you deserve the truth.” He drew a deep breath. “Steele and Son was once a thriving, prosperous company. Father and I ran our business with ease and had many loyal, returning clients. After he died, however, things deteriorated. We lost almost all of our work, and I fell behind on our rental agreement with the shop. To make up the difference, Mother and I moved into a smaller home, but that only helped for so long. We are still months behind in our payments, with our landlord at the very end of his patience.” He glanced at her sidelong. “I am not wealthy. Your sister would never wish to attach herself to me.”

Marianne sat in stunned silence. She’d had no idea how destitute he was, nor how greatly he’d been suffering. She should’ve noted the way he only ever wore his one jacket, or how his boots were never polished, or how his cravat had been worn thin. How could she have been so selfish as to think she had a difficult life when he and his mother were worrying about not having a home in the next few months?

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her brow pulling together. “I can ask my father to advance his payment to you or…”

He instantly shook his head. “No, no, that is not necessary. Thank you, but he is already paying me generously. I would not wish for him to think me ungrateful. His offer truly was a godsend.”

Marianne nodded her understanding. She knew all too well a man’s pride in wanting to provide for himself and for his family.

Her heart warmed at the level of trust he’d placed upon her, telling his employer’s daughter that he was penniless. She would not betray that trust. But surely there was something she could do to help. Perhaps if she knew more of the story.

“Do you know why the work stopped when your father died?” she asked carefully. “Was it because you were spread too thinly with the workload?”

His voice fell quiet. “No, it was another matter entirely. Matters beyond my control frightened people away from accepting work from us any longer.” He glanced in her direction. “You are not the only one whose life is dictated by Society’s rules, Miss Coventry.”