Lord Wembly smiled. “I certainly will do.” He bowed. “Lady Verity, until tomorrow.”
“Yes, Lord Wembly,” she said, for utter lack of any other words. What an afternoon! Had he positively said something? Had he not?
Verity had not really understood her older sisters’ confusion and bouncing feelings from one thing to the next when it had been their seasons. It had felt as if it were all much ado about nothing. But really, if this is how they’d been talked to, it was not very surprising!
Of course, her sisters did not have the added burden of trying to figure out how and when to acquaint Lord Wembly with her less than impressive intellect.
Verity did not know where she stood. She did not know what to do. She must make a decision, though.
Perhaps if he hinted again about intentions. That must be the right time. Even if she discovered she’d misread the situation.
Of course, she might never know if she’d misread it. He was a gentleman. If he wished to run the other direction upon becoming acquainted with her lack of intellect, he would do so politely.
On the other hand, she could not let it go on too late. She could not trap him into a commitment he’d wish he never made. If the intentions he spoke about were what she thought they were, then he must go into it cleareyed.
Yes, that really was the right choice. The very next time he mentioned intentions or anything at all like it, she would tell him.
The decision filled her with dread. She might lose her chance at real happiness.
Still, it must be done.
