In a flash, she recalled the salver of letters. She dove for it, scattering the myriad correspondence in her search for one particular missive. Finally, at the very bottom, she found it. Her father’s sparse, methodical writing glared up at her like a scold.
She reached for it with shaking fingers. “It appears it did arrive before you,” she said through numb lips. “Though only just.” She drew in a slow breath, fighting back the mounting panic that was quickly taking over her. “If you will all excuse me?” she managed as she rose.
The two men rose as well, drawing her eye. She looked at Peter, and nearly gasped. For the first time since he’d entered the room, his gaze had settled on her. And it burned.
She must have paled considerably, for Lord Redburn stepped to her side in an instant. “Perhaps it would be best if I accompany you, Miss Hartley. In case you have any questions regarding the contents of your father’s letter.”
Again a glance at Peter. His gaze had slipped from her and was now fixed with barely banked hostility on Lord Redburn. Lenora cringed. She certainly had no wish to be alone with the man, especially if her father’s missive disclosed the information she feared was in its folds.
But the thought of leaving him with Peter, who looked as if he were plotting the man’s demise, made her break into a cold sweat.
“Yes,” she replied to Lord Redburn, “mayhap that would be for the best.”
The young earl held out an arm to her. She stared at it for a moment, panic rearing up again. Fighting the urge to run, she placed her fingers on the fine material of his coat and let him lead her from the room. Trying with all her might not to turn and run back to Peter’s arms.
From his expression, she didn’t think he wanted her there again.
***
“Miss Hartley,” Lord Redburn began when they had ducked into the small, seldom-used sitting room down the hall.
Lenora held up a hand, praying the man would heed her silent entreaty. Blessedlyhe understood at once and fell silent.
Turning her back on him, she made her way to the far side of the room. With trembling hands, she broke the wax seal and carefully unfolded the paper. Her father’s letter wasn’t long; in a matter of seconds, she would be able to determine if her suspicions were founded. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the neat lines of script.
Finally, when she thought she might either scream or faint from the horror of anticipation, she took a shuddering breath and began to read.
Lenora,
I have managed in short order to find a husband for you. It seems your unfortunate history has not destroyed your chances. That the man is an earl is a damn miracle. You will treat Lord Redburn with all the civility and encouragement necessary to hold his interest until the vows are said.
I don’t have to remind you what will transpire should you fail in this.
Yours,
Sir Alfred Hartley
A hard ball settled in the pit of her stomach. She read the letter again, searching for any hint of affection. Yet, as before, the words were stark, to the point—and so chill she thought she might never be warm again.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring down at the letter. It was only when the words began to swim in her vision that she recalled herself. She blinked and drew in a breath. “I must say,” she said, her voice overloud in the silence of the room, “this is quite…unexpected.” Which was such a glaring understatement, it might have been funny, had there been even a morsel of humor in the situation.
Her voice seemed to unfreeze Lord Redburn from his patient watching. His boots sounded on the floor, coming closer, until he stood at her elbow. Lenora fought the urge to pull away from him. An unfair reaction. He was a good man; it was not his fault his timing was so abysmal, that his suit was the last thing she wanted. That she had already given her heart to another.
“I’m sorry for the shock. It wasn’t my intention to distress you. I believed your father’s letter would arrive well before me.” There was a pause and a soft chuckle. “I suppose I was a bit eager to get here. I should not have traveled on a Sunday. My mother would have my head, were she to find out.”
She looked at him then. “Why?”
A puzzled frown drew his inky brows together. “Why did I travel on Sunday?”
“Why were you eager? You must know my history.”
Lord Redburn appeared taken aback. As well he might, for the words were harsh even to her own ears. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her world, which had finally begun to come together after so long, felt as if it was unraveling again, and she was only beginning to realize the impact this would have on her.
He was quick to recover, his features falling into his perpetually cheerful expression. “You must know, Miss Hartley, that you’re an attractive woman; in fact, you’re one of the most beautiful women of my acquaintance. But that is merely the surface. It may be presumptuous of me, but I believe I’ve gotten to know some of your character over the past years. And I do believe you are one of the kindest persons I have had the pleasure to know. I have long thought you would make an exceptional Lady Redburn. I would have secured your hand sooner had Landon not gotten the jump on me.” Here another soft chuckle before he quickly sobered. “Ah, but how unfeeling of me, for it must pain you still, what happened between you.”
It was more question than comment; no doubt he expected some kind of answer. How would he feel to know she could not remember the last time she’d thought of Lord Landon? That her thoughts had been taken over by quite another entirely. She shook her head, too numb to do more than that.
He let out a relieved breath. “Good. That is, I’m glad. For, though I know you cannot care for me as I care for you, I do have hopes that you might one day.”
