Cecelia shifted in her seat. “It is.”
He settled his bulk into the chair opposite her and lifted his brows.
“I believe Lord Chambrook will be by soon to ask for your permission for my hand in marriage.” Cecelia didn’t bother to restrain her wide smile. “I wanted to ensure you would be here to receive him.”
Her father remained silent for a spell. “I had intended to meet some associates—”
“Please, Papa,” Cecelia said, using the endearment she had not called him in years in the hopes he might somehow once more be deserving with this instance. “Wait until he has arrived to speak with you.”
This was why she had wanted to meet with her father first, to ensure he would not be off at a gaming hell while Philip was waiting to seek her hand in marriage.
Lord Gullsville rubbed at the center of his forehead. “Cecelia, I never expected you to wed.”
His admission was like a slap. Was he truly going to harangue her for finding a path to her own happiness? “I will remain in London and will still be available to assist with Sophia and household affairs.”
He waved her offer away as though it were not needed. Confirming that she was not needed. She clenched her hands in her fist to fight away the tears that suddenly warmed her eyes.
“You haven’t a dowry, Cecelia,” he said.
She gaped at him, certain she had heard incorrectly. “I beg your pardon?”
“It was of little use to a woman who had already set herself on the shelf.” He sighed. “If he truly wants you to be his wife, it will not matter.”
It will not matter. The statement was said so nonchalantly.
Except that it did matter.
Philip had wanted a woman who wished to be with him for who he was. Not his title. And not his wealth.
“There has to be something we can do.” Cecelia’s voice pitched with desperation.
Her father shook his head and opened his hands, palms up. In defeat.
The tears that tingled in her eyes moments before spilled over her cheeks now. Not only was she without a dowry and her family lacking in fortune, but she had also encouraged Philip to have her before marriage. As though she meant to trap him.
Oh God, what had she done?
What had her father done?
“Come now,” her father placated. “It isn’t all that bad. You’re an attractive young woman—”
Cecelia shot to her feet, unable to stand another word rasping from her father’s mouth. “You spent my future on gambling and drink and women of ill repute.”
Her father’s face furrowed, and his mouth opened as if he meant to protest, but Cecelia was not done. “I didn’t put myself on the shelf, as you so blithely stated. I was taking care of our family because you would not. I would do it over again, if necessary, for Sophia and Henry. It is for their sake that I hope you prove to be a better father than you have been to me.”
“Cecelia,” her father said in a petulant tone, but whatever he meant to say, she did not care to listen and promptly removed herself from his study.
She ran down the length of the hall and out into the garden as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Her mother had always loved the garden. Perhaps that was why it often provided solace.
Though today, even the rows of colorful blooms did not ease her angst. Cecelia sagged onto a marble bench in the shade amid the perfume of early rose blossoms. Normally, she would breathe them in and recall those summer months when her mother and the twins had still been alive, and Father had been a man worthy of being called Papa.
Now, Cecelia drew in a shuddering breath and gave way to the force of her tears. Once Philip spoke to her father, he would undoubtedly assume she had used him for his wealth, that she had tricked him into this proposal. All his trust that he’d settled so carefully into her palm would be crushed into dust.
There would be no more chances to reclaim it.
Nor would there be chances to wed. It wasn’t even her loss of her maidenhead, nor the loss of her dowry, though no respectable man would have her without either. No, it was the loss of her heart, for it belonged truly and completely to Philip.
A love that was torn from her grasp and one she would have no hope of winning back.
