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They had to.

But once she’d slid into bed, in the darkness, and closed her eyes, there was no way to escape the thoughts that swirled around her mind. The memory of Sebastian’s hurt expression. The earnest, fumbling way he’d explained that he wanted to marry her, the way he’d argued with her with all sincerity…

Mei’s chest heaved as she turned on her side with a little hiccup. Her eyes stung with salt tears, though she squeezed them tightly shut. If she could leave the house party right now, in the middle of the night, she would, but that would cause an uproar. Her friends would want to know why.

There was only so far and so fast she could run before they caught up to her again in London.

No, she would have to brazen things out. At least there was only one more night after this. Tomorrow, she would stay in her room as much as possible in the morning. She could come out for the afternoon and evening. And then leave as early as possible the day after.

Another little hiccup rippled through her, her breathing hitching again despite herself. Wetness trickled down the side of her face, an escaped tear making its journey to her pillow.

She curled into a tighter ball, but it did nothing to stop the tears. Burying her face into her pillow, Mei finally let go of the idea that she might get through the night without crying, and her shoulders heaved as she sobbed her throat raw.

Sebastian

It was a long, sleepless night as Sebastian tossed and turned, his head full of Mei and her rejection. Though he knew he needed to speak with Tiffany, that she would be able to guide him, his mind could not help but come up with idea after idea of how to win Mei over. How to convince her that she could—and should—be his duchess.

He was up with the sun, exhausted but determined. It gave Darnwell quite a start to come into the bedroom and find Sebastian already awake and waiting for him. The valet actually took a step back, his eyes widening, as he realized Sebastian was not abed.

“Your Grace,” he said when he located Sebastian standing by the window, watching the sun rise. “Is everything all right?”

“It will be,” Sebastian replied cryptically. Seeming to sense Sebastian’s turbulent mood, as any valet worth his salt would, Darnwell merely nodded and quickly got to work assisting Sebastian with his dress.

So it was that Sebastian was downstairs well before any of the guests and even before his sister herself.

Tiffany had a similar reaction to Darnwell at seeing Sebastian waiting for her in the foyer, pausing on the staircase when she saw him waiting at the bottom. The expression on her face blanked, then turned curious, and she quickly came down the last of the stairs.

“You are up very early,” she said, frowning at him.

“Yes. I need to speak with you.” He glanced at the staircase. No one else had appeared at the top of it, but early risers could do so at any moment. “Privately.”

“Very well, let’s go into the drawing room.” She gestured at the nearby doorway, which had the door partially open. “I only have a few minutes, then I want to check how things are going in the kitchen. Yesterday, Chef was unsure we would have enough eggs for this morning.”

Tiffany ran a tight ship. Despite how awful their mother had been to her, she had thoroughly trained Tiffany on how to run a household with grace and skill. It did not hurt that Tiffany had always been far more comfortable with the servants than their mother had. Really, more than Sebastian had. She’d known far more of their names and what was going on with their lives.

He should do better following her example.

But that was a thought for another day.

“What is going on?” Tiffany asked as soon as the door was closed. “Is something wrong?”

“It depends on what you mean by wrong.” Now that he had his sister here, Sebastian hesitated. She was Mei’s friend, and she had warned Sebastian not to dishonor her. Which he was trying very hard not to. But he was not sure Tiffany would take his side in this either.

She might decide to support whatever Mei wanted.

Or she might feel that Sebastian becoming lovers with Mei broke his promise.

“Sebastian!” Tiffany glared at him. “I do not have time for you to hem and haw. Either speak now or⁠—”

“I asked Mei to marry me.” He blurted the words out, knowing it would bring a halt to her lecture and also get the most important bit out in the open. He would only admit to being lovers if he absolutely had to, since he did not know how Mei would take it.

“Goodness!” Tiffany stared at him in complete shock, then suddenly clapped her hands in front of her. “You’re marrying Mei?”

“No.”

Just saying the word hurt.

“No?” Her hands stilled, and she stared at him.