She bowed her head, but despite the graceful gesture, she seemed ready for battle. “I accept the invitation, and Julia is happy to come too, with her governess as chaperone.”
The tremor stopped in his hands, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything other than, “That sounds appropriate.” Because it wasn’t.
~ * ~
PEARL PERCHED ON the edge of Miss Cherrywood’s couch after having told her what had happened in Christopher’s house. There was no need to lie to her. Miss Cherrywood knew everything about the bankruptcy. So Pearl hoped she’d understand why she wanted to meet Cowasj.
The prince was the only thing that mattered to her. Spending a few days in Christopher’s estate didn’t have any appeal. The man was a stormy cloud clad with muscles and a dark stare, and she had her share of taciturn men who didn’t talk to her. Father was like that.
Pearl lifted her gaze, waiting for Miss Cherrywood to talk. The lady sat in the armchair in front of the window. The sunlight danced on her skin, casting shadows on her face, and Pearl couldn’t guess if she was angry or not.
“I admit I acted on impulse,” Pearl said. “I don’t wish to put Amelia in a difficult situation, but I need to know what happened to my father.”
“I understand, my dear.” Miss Cherrywood smiled, a warm, sincere smile that caused Pearl’s shoulders to relax. “In fact, I believe it was a wonderful idea.”
“What about Amelia?”
Miss Cherrywood waved dismissively. “Her parents won’t discover anything if we are careful, and Lord Lyons will be rejected more gently. You’ll have more time to show him you two aren’t a good couple, and when you tell him you don’t wish to see him again, he’ll agree. I was worried he might ask to see Amelia again if she refused him after the first meeting.”
It sounded sensible, but spasms churned Pearl’s belly, and it wasn’t hunger for once. Rejecting Christopher should be easy enough though. He attracted rejections. It wasn’t her fault. Besides, she wasn’t even the real Amelia, so it was Amelia who was rejecting him. But would Pearl reject him if she were the real Amelia?
Oh, Lord. She rubbed her aching temple where an ache pounded. She sounded like a crazy woman.
“Julia is a good, reliable member of my society. I don’t know her governess though, this Mrs Armstrong,” Miss Cherrywood said. “If anything happens, send me a wire, and I’ll be in Harpenden with the first available train.”
“That’s a relief. Thank you.” Pearl could breathe more easily.
“Tell me everything.” An auburn curl escaped Miss Cherrywood’s bun when she leaned closer.
“About what?”
“About the villainous Earl of Gladstone! Is he as brutal as they said? How was it being with him? What about his disfigurement?”
Pearl chewed her bottom lip, pondering the questions. It was hard to describe Christopher Lyons and the emotions he evoked inside her with a few words. “He isn’t ugly, quite the opposite. He is tall and broad across the shoulders. I can’t say he was gentle. His manners are the worst one can possibly imagine for a lord, and his gaze can kill. But he also seems . . .” She paused, trying to capture that elusive feeling.
“Yes?” Miss Cherrywood prompted.
“Lonely. Incredibly lonely.” Her chest constricted. She was lonely too, but Christopher had looked resigned, as if he knew that solitude was his fate.
“I see.” Miss Cherrywood’s gaze narrowed. She slouched back in the armchair and nodded. “Pearl, I think you did a very wise thing.”
