The tension lifted and she rested her forehead on his chest. “What about the honeymoon? You’ve made arrangements for September.”
“We’ll simply wait and go then. This way, you’ll have time to settle in to your new home.”
She laughed at the absurdity of such a rushed affair. “Go, before someone catches you sneaking out of here.”
“Not without an answer.” She was still resting her forehead on his chest and he wished he could see her face. “An answer, darling. The week after next?”
She gazed up at him in the candlelight, then at last she replied, “All right, but only because I want to share a bed with you again.”
Her answer pleased him greatly. What could he say? He was a man, and bed was the one place he felt confident in knowing his way around.
He turned to leave, but Clara stopped him with a question. “Seger? Was I your first virgin?”
He halted, closed his eyes, and wished she had not asked him that. “What does it matter?” He did not see the point in the question.
“But was I?”
He slowly turned, faced her, and paused. “No.”
“Have there been many?”
“No. Only one.”
She blinked a few times. “Daphne?”
“Yes.”
Hearing a thump in one of the upstairs bedrooms, Seger knew it was time for him to vamoose. He hesitated a moment, however, for he could see the distress in Clara’s eyes and wished he could stay to make it disappear. He wanted her to know that Daphne was in the past. She was forgotten. There was no need for Clara to feel as ifshewere not the most important woman in the world to him.
Another thump sounded over their heads.
He had to go.
He kissed Clara on the mouth, then backed out of the room. He noted however, that he left without his usual indulgent, flirtatious smile.
When the news of her stepson’s sudden haste to marry the American heiress reached Quintina’s ears the next day, she gazed helplessly across the breakfast table at Gillian. Time seemed to stand still for a few seconds.
AnAmerican.Quintina could have spit on her toast.
All was quiet, until Gillian burst into tears and ran out.
Quintina sat in her chair, staring blankly at the wall. She felt numb. Sick. Disgusted. How could this have happened? Marriage terrified Seger. He had never been willing to face the permanence or the commitment. Nor had he been willing to let go of the past, in particular the daughter of an insipid, working-class merchant.
At leastshehad been English.
Quintina had foolishly believed that she had all the time in the world to make Gillian the next Lady Rawdon. She had thought her niece was the only young woman with even the slightest chance with Seger because she was the only one Seger spent any time with on a regular basis—the only unmarried girl who didn’t apply any pressure, the sort of pressure that always made him rebel into extreme bachelorhood.
Quintina had also believed that she could put an end to his engagement and send Gillian in to take over where the heiress had left off, after having lit the stove, so to speak.
A sudden heated rage rose up inside Quintina. Gillian had been waiting forever. She’d wanted Seger since she was a girl!
Quintina rose from her chair, picked up a vase full of flowers from the sideboard, and smashed it on the floor.
The American. In two weeks. It couldn’t be true.
She took a number of deep breaths to calm herself, then left the breakfast room and informed the housekeeper that she required a carriage right away. She had to send an urgent telegram to America. She could not let this marriage take place.
Chapter 14
