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“He specializes in botany and horticulture,” Letitia said.

“He has a particular fascination with waterlilies, which I find strangely endearing.” Seraphina nodded to a particular fabric, and Madame Baptiste laid it over her arm. “He’s kind and thoughtful. He’s certainly not a social type, but he treats people better than they sometimes deserve.”

A sly smile crept across the modiste’s face. “It sounds as though you’re smitten.”

Seraphina was so taken aback by the proclamation that she just stared at the woman for a moment before shaking her head. “I enjoy his company, but I’m not smitten.”

Letitia snorted. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“Is he handsome?” Madame Baptiste asked.

Seraphina considered that. For some reason, she’d never thought of Trevor as handsome or not. He just… was.

“In a way,” she said slowly. “He has regular features, nice brown eyes, and a lovely smile. He’s taller than I am, with broad shoulders… Yes, I suppose he is handsome.”

Why had she never noticed that before?

“He sounds like a fine catch,” the modiste said.

They decided on a style for her gown, and then she and Letitia braved the cool gray weather to return to the carriage. As they trundled through the city streets, she wondered how to raise a topic she had been meaning to ask about since a few days after the betrothal.

Eventually, when they were only a few blocks from Letitia’s home, she knew she couldn’t put it off for any longer.

“So, Trevor. Have you noticed anything amiss with him recently?” she asked, watching her friend’s face carefully for any hint of a reaction.

Letitia shrugged. “Honestly, he seems like the same old Trevor to me. What’s worrying you?”

Seraphina sighed. “He seems more withdrawn than he was before our betrothal.”

In truth, she was worried that he regretted his choice, or perhaps was overwhelmed by the prospect of their much-gossiped-about impending nuptials. He was exactly the type of honorable man who would go through with it anyway because he’d given his word—and then try to make the best of the situation—but she didn’t want him to be unhappy.

Letitia’s eyebrows knitted together over the bridge of her nose. “I hadn’t noticed, but I’ll pay more attention.”

The carriage slowed, and Seraphina made a quick decision. “I’ll see if I can spend some time with him this afternoon to find out what’s wrong.”

“Good idea. Let me know if you have any luck.”

“I will.” She waved as Letitia disembarked and disappeared into the house.

The carriage continued on to the Daltons’ house, where she immediately arranged for a message to be sent to Trevor, asking him to walk with her in the park later in the day.

By the time she received a response, the post had also arrived, including a new scientific periodical she had asked Mark to order for her. She glanced at the message from Trevor, relieved to see that he’d responded in the affirmative, and she made a note of the time he’d said he would come by to collect her.

After that, she took her new periodical to the library and became enthralled by an article about chemical extraction techniques that gave her a couple of new ideas to try the next time she endeavored to extract the active medicinal compounds from willow bark.

Unfortunately, she was so engrossed that she didn’t notice time passing, and when Smithers knocked on the door and told her that Trevor had arrived, she had to blink to clear her mind before she even remembered what he was talking about.

Muttering obscenities, she jumped up and hurried to her bedchamber, where she stashed the periodical in her writing desk and grabbed a warmer coat from the wardrobe. She added a bonnet and swapped her shoes for hardier ones, then summoned Bessie to chaperone her and rushed down to meet her future husband.

“Good afternoon,” she exclaimed as she reached the foyer and swept into a curtsy. “Thanks for joining me.”

He smiled, but it was tentative, and the smudges underneath his eyes indicated that he hadn’t been sleeping well. “I appreciate you inviting me.”

He offered her his arm, and she took it, pressing closer than was necessary because she had the unpleasant feeling that if she didn’t hold onto him tightly, Trevor might slip through her fingers. She’d been foolish enough not to realize what a perfect husband he would make, and she didn’t want to lose him now that they were so close to committing themselves to each other.

It was ironic, really. The last time she was preparing to marry a man, she’d been doing everything she could to drive him away. This time, she wanted to cling to him and beg him not to reconsider.

Please don’t let him be having second thoughts.