Page 48 of The Marquess of Secrets

He obviously regretted his proposal.

How could she come to such a conclusion about him in only a couple of weeks’ acquaintance? The flush of his cheeks was ample proof. And the fact she hadn’t seen him since.

Perhaps she was not the only one with vulnerabilities. She should take his withdrawal as a blessing, for the last thing Lydia wished to do was to frustrate or anger him by refusing his proposition.

“I will take a tray in my room, thank you.”

The sooner they made arrangements for her to take employment elsewhere, the better.

Protect her heart.

Lydia had no other choice.

Chapter 14

Harrison must return home sooner rather than later. For all his proclamations that he was not a coward, he was the very epitome of one at the moment.

God, he acted like a hurt, spoiled child being refused sweets. During the past four days, he kept his distance from Lydia. He’d stayed all night at the terminus and done so the night before last.

Swaying on his feet, it was past noon, and he was ready to collapse.

“Right you are.” Sister Monica clasped his elbow and pulled him toward the office.

She was blasted strong for a woman, or perhaps he was in such a weakened condition the older nun could take charge and practically drag him across the floor. Regardless, he didn’t fight her.

“That is more than enough, your lordship,” she whispered fiercely in his ear. “You’re dead on your feet.”

She steered him into the chair, then closed the makeshift door.

“Harrison, you have me worried. What’s going on, my dear? You have the look of a man tortured by demons.”

Tortured by demons—of his making.

Yes, it was clear that he was his own worst enemy in several areas of his life.

“I’m avoiding a woman.”

Sister Monica’s eyebrow arched. “Care to discuss it?”

“With a nun? No, I think not.”

“Oh, come now,” she scoffed. “You think I was born in this habit? I had a life before taking my vows. I was even courted by a man.”

“My apologies,” Harrison murmured wearily. “I made an utterly asinine suggestion to a young woman who deserves better from me.”

“Then you must make amends and apologize at once.”

“Sound advice.”

Sister Monica crossed her arms and frowned. “You haven’t taken my last bit of sage advice to heart at all. Here you are working yourself into a sickbed—or worse.”

Her expression softened. “You cannot treat the world entire. Cure all of its ills. All you can do is make your mark in your small corner of the world. And you have, Harrison. You cannot do more, not without doing serious harm to yourself. Rest here; lay your head on the desk. I’ll wake you in two hours, and you must return home. Understand?”

“Yes.”

He did as Monica suggested, and the last he remembered, a blanket was gently laid across his shoulders.

By the time the kindly nun roused him close to three hours later, he was able to depart under his own steam, though his legs still trembled from exhaustion.