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She had to be honest with them. She could not keep up the charade any longer. She had to tell them what she and Mr. Steele had done.

Mr. Steele.

Her chest stiffened. If she told Mother and Father the truth, Mr. Steele would once more be at risk. Marianne would fight for his innocence, but truly, what power did her word hold when she’d already deceived them so greatly? No, she could not risk the man’s well-being, she could not make him suffer more.

Oh, why had she been so reckless the day before? Why could she not have just waited?

“Marianne, did you hear me?”

Mother’s voice cut through her thoughts. Marianne dragged her attention to the present and nodded. “Yes, I-I am simply thinking through this new state of affairs. Of course, I am delighted.”

Disbelief etched across Mother’s expression, but Father smiled. “We thought you would be surprised.”

“Indeed.” Marianne forced a smile of her own. “Are you certain the Clarks can accommodate for me?”

“I’ve already written them to let them know it will be you instead of Beatrice who shall be attending,” Mother replied.

Marianne pulled back. “Beatrice will not be coming? If it is the matter of having no room, I will gladly remain at home for her to attend.” If only to appease her own conscience.

Her parents exchanged glances again. “No,” Mother responded, “that is not the reason. Beatrice has requested not to attend this evening.”

Marianne frowned. Not only was Beatrice refusing to marry, now she was refusing to attend social gatherings? What in heaven’s name was going on with her?

“You mustn’t worry about your sister, Marianne,” Father said, as if reading her thoughts. “All will be well in future.”

“Yes,” Mother agreed, “and we’ve some tasks to see to before we leave tonight. Would you care to go into the village today and purchase a ribbon or two? Perhaps we could even order a new gown for the Abbott’s approaching ball.”

Marianne’s forced smile fell more and more into a grimace. “That would be lovely, Mama. Thank you.”

“Excellent idea,” Father agreed. “We must have you looking your best for the gentlemen who will be in attendance.”

Marianne had dreamt of this day for so long. To go to a party, to be out in Society, to shop for herself with Mother. But now, they were tainted. Tainted with her dishonesty, with her fear of ruining Mr. Steele, with her concern for Beatrice—and with her worry that she would be taking her sister’s place, her life soon to be devoted only to finding a husband who would please her family.

She should be thrilled. Gloriously ecstatic. She’d always wanted to marry a gentleman.

So then why did she only wish to see Mr. Steele?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Marianne did her best not to take that walk to the library. She wandered outside for a moment, ate a morsel of breakfast, even tried stopping by Beatrice’s room, but there was no answer to her knock.

Eventually, she gave up on telling her feet what to do, and they led her straight to Mr. Steele, where she hesitated outside of the door.

They had both somehow gotten away with their adventure the day before. Should she really be risking it all by speaking with him?

She peered around the doorway as she had weeks ago upon his first arrival. He carved the edge of the bookshelf, unaware—as far as she could tell—of her presence. His sleeves were rolled up and his waistcoat removed, the braces he wore rising from the center of his back to fork into two, the thick bands accentuating the breadth of his shoulders.

His muscles rolled as he worked, the grooves of his powerful arms pulsing with each tap of the mallet he hit against the chisel. Pulling the tool back, he slid his fingers down the furrows then blew against the wood to remove the excess shavings still clinging to it.

His work was mesmerizing. But was that any surprise when she was captivated by everything he did?

Unable to keep from speaking with him any longer, she fully entered the room.

His face brightened when he found her. “Good morning, Miss Coventry.”

His jovial tone and smiling eyes pressed upon her chest.

He must have seen her weak smile, for his disappeared, and he lowered his tools to face her. “Have we been discovered?”