Lucy pacedin front of the window. She’d expected Matthew at least an hour ago, but there was still no sign of him. Ten minutes ago, Mrs. Tucker had tired of Lucy’s frantic glances and left to see if Mr. and Mrs. Garvis had news of him.
Pacing in an empty house felt even more desperate than pacing while Mrs. Tucker had been there, but she couldn’t stop.
Had Miss Creighton managed to track him down after all? If she had, what would Matthew have done? Run away? Without even talking to her? She forced herself to go to the kitchen and put some water on to boil. Mrs. Tucker would be back soon. Until then, she would do her best not to let her mind rush off to the worst possible outcomes.
Besides, she was good at waiting. She’d had three years of practice.
She gritted her teeth and gripped the side of the kitchen table. Three blasted years of practice. So help her, if Matthew ran off again, she would post an advertisement with his description in every paper until he returned home. An act like that would prove disastrous for both of their families’ reputations, but she wouldn’t wait for him again. Not like she did last time. Not after knowing who he was.
She poured the boiling water into the teapot and watched it seep for a full minute before her restless feet marched her back to the window.
Down the long lane that led to Mr. Bennion’s home, a man approached. Her heart lifted and she cursed herself for being so worried. Matthew had always come when he’d said he would.
All but that one time, three years ago.
Lucy stayed at the window until she recognized the broad shoulders and gait of her fiancé, then ran to the door and threw it open. But the moment he looked up at her she knew something was wrong. He had a bag slung over his back, and he didn’t smile when he saw her. His eyes flicked to her face momentarily, then without any reaction, he glanced back to his feet as he strode the rest of the way to the house. He stopped ten feet away from her and finally lifted his eyes back to hers. “I’ve come to say good-bye.”
He what? Lucy reached for the door frame and grasped it tight. Did he mean good-bye for right now and he would be back the next morning? If he did, why would he start with that? “But we haven’t yet made our deliveries.”
He shook his head and stared at a spot behind her shoulder. “I don’t mean good-bye for today. I’m leaving Fenswallow. I won’t be back.”
There must be some kind of misunderstanding. There must be. But how? His words to her were short and very direct, leaving nothing to be misunderstood. Was he going back to London? Had he decided to finally go through with the engagement? That was Lucy’s entire reason for coming here, but for him to go before she even had the chance to tell him who she was? It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. “Why?” was the only word she managed to get out.
For the first time, his face cracked. A half smile transformed his mouth, but not in the way that made her heart catch like itusually did. This was not a smile of joy. “My mother’s carriage was at the milliner’s shop this afternoon.”
Lucy froze. “You went to the millinery?” Her voice cracked. “After I begged you not to?”
A small chuckle like a cough escaped Matthew’s throat. Just like his smile, there was no joy in it. “So, you did know she was coming. That’s what I needed to hear. I’ll be leaving now. I should have left sooner, but I couldn’t handle the image of you waiting for me while I didn’t show up. I am a fool, I suppose.”
He turned to leave and Lucy rushed down the steps. “Matthew, wait.”
His back stiffened. “You have no right to call me that.”
“I do.”
“What gives you the right?” The words were hard. “Because we spent a few weeks together, during which you knew my name and I had no idea who you were? Because you’ve made me and everyone around us look like fools with your fake Scottish accent?” He shook his head. “No, that isn’t how this game works.”
“I’ve never known how this game works. Never. I’ve ruined my chances with you time and time again. But Matthew, please, listen to me.” She placed a hand lightly on his arm and tugged him softly, hoping he would turn around and face her again. “Please don’t leave me again.”
Matthew’s back heaved with a deep breath, then he turned to her. His face was no longer stoic. Instead, he looked as if he were in pain. Why hadn’t she simply told him who she was? Why had she come here and lied to him for weeks? He was going to disappear, probably even more thoroughly this time, and once again it was her fault. “I have to go.” He straightened his shoulders and the broken features of his face pieced themselves back together. “If I stay, my mother will make certain I’m married by morning. Is that what you want?
“I…” Of course that was what she wanted. Maybe not by morning, but at some point, yes, she wanted to marry him. How could he even question her about that? “Would it be so reprehensible to you?”
He slid his jaw to one side. “If I hadn’t met you, then no, I don’t think it would be.”
The air left her lungs in such a rush, the edges of her vision went dark and her legs lost their strength. They were out in the open, with no door or table to hold onto. She could reach for Matthew and steady herself on his arm, but she would rather faint. She took one long, slow breath, forced her knees to straighten so they would hold her weight, and lifted her chin. He might be devastating her, but she wouldn’t let him see it. Not after she waited like a fool for three years for this man. “Oh. Well, that is not at all what I intended.”
“Oh,” he laughed. “I’m fairly certain it is exactly what you intended. Luckily, my mother showed up and I came to my senses. How did I become so blind? What kind of father sends his daughter to ride in a cart with a man all day? No father would do such a thing. When have I ever been good enough at my work to merit that kind of attention? Never. How could I have been so stupid? To think that I almost thought…”
She waited for him to finish his sentence, but just like she’d waited for him to come home and marry her, it never happened. “Almost thought what?” Her voice still held an edge of defiance.
His blue eyes, so often filled with mirth when they were together, had turned hard. Like ice instead of a spring pool. He shook his head. “Don’t profess that you don’t know. Everyone in town talked about the two of us—the way I looked at you, the way we danced together. Do you really need me to say it?” His icy eyes searched hers, but she couldn’t answer him. “All right,” he spit out. “Apparently, I have no pride left when it comes to you.” He hefted his bag up higher onto his shoulder. “I’d thought I wasfalling in love with Miss Shroud, but I was only falling in love with a lie.”
“Miss Shroud wasn’t a complete?—”
He interrupted her. “Such a ridiculous name.”
Lucy put her hands on her hips. “And Mr. Scarper issomuch better?”
