He was so quiet. Normally she liked his calm, quiet demeanor, but right now it took everything in her not to reach out and shake him.
"To whom?" she asked.
He told her.
Clarissa had never met the woman, but she knew of her. She was the daughter of a local family. Edmund's mother was fond of them. A sensible match, he said. A practical one.
She had a small income and an even temperament. She would make a fine vicar's wife.
He said all of this to her left shoulder.
"When? When did you get engaged?" Her voice sounded odd. Too thin and far too bright. Did he notice? He didn't seem to notice. Though he did have the decency to look pained.
"Three weeks ago," he said. "Perhaps a bit longer."
Clarissa had been in London three weeks ago. She had been summoning every scrap of courage she possessed to approach a scarred, glowering marquess and beg him to refuse an arranged match. For Edmund.
She had stammered through it. But she had done it, because she'd thought a love match of her own choosing was worth fighting for. And she'd believed—foolishly, it now seemed—that Edmund was fighting too.
But he had not been fighting. Her stomach sank, and there seemed to be no end to the sinking.
He hadn't been fighting, because… He had been proposing to someone else.
"Your mother introduced us," Edmund said. "She thought we'd suit."
Clarissa stared at him. Edmund said this as if it explained everything, and…
And maybe it did. Edmund had never been strong in the face of her parents. An earl and his wife were understandably intimidating. Perhaps even more so for a man like Edmund, whose living rested in their hands. And yet…
And yet, she'd confronted a marquess. A terrifying, powerful one at that. A man who was renowned for his foul temper and?—
"I didn't think you'd succeed, Clarissa." Edmund's voice was meek. So apologetic, it made her want to scream.
Or weep.
But she did neither. She stood there with that frozen smile on her face like a fool.
He held his hands out, palms up. "He's a marquess, after all. I never imagined he'd actually?—"
"You didn't think I'd succeed." She repeated it slowly, testing each word. "So you…made other arrangements. In case I failed."
An unattractive red crept up his neck. "It wasn't like that."
But it was exactly like that. He hadn't even waited to hear the outcome. He'd looked at the obstacle and decided it was too large for a girl like Clarissa to overcome.
He hadn't believed she could do it. The realization made her stumble back a step. Had he always thought so little of her?
But then again, she hadn't really expected she could end her engagement either, had she? She'd walked into that ballroom feeling like a sheep on its way to slaughter.
She gave her head another shake as if that might clear it and help her to see reason.
All it did was jar loose one thought. Edmund might be the only person she'd ever met who had less faith in her than she had in herself.
The thought almost made her laugh. Almost. It shouldn't hurt as much as it did. But then again, he was one of so few who truly knew her. And not even he had faith in her.
"You are…a remarkable woman, Clarissa."
"No. Don't." She backed away another step. "Please don't."
