Page 19 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

And while he’d intended to avoid seeing his new fiancée, he knew doing so would be impossible, especially now that Bess was involved. There was nothing for it but to prepare for a visit to Langston Place and seeing Lady Elizabeth again.

5

Elizabeth sat before the fireplace in her bedchamber, re-reading the same page over and over without processing the words. She shifted in the seat, turning the cooler side of her body toward the fire. Not that doing so helped her concentrate.

There was no concentrating when thoughts of Lord Darington filled her mind.

Were they truly engaged?

Him to her?

Or had she dreamt it in some blend of nightmare and fantasy all rolled into one?

A knock sounded at her door. “You have a visitor, my lady.”

Elizabeth tensed at her maid’s announcement. Had Lord Darington come already?

She’d lain in bed far too long that morning, worried that he might arrive and set her heart fluttering like a trapped bird, something loose and wild and unfounded. Then she worried that he might not come, that he’d look back on the events of the previous evening and realize the enormity of his mistake in playing along with this horrible, ridiculous charade.

“It’s Lady Brightstone, my lady,” the maid said delicately.

Elizabeth’s heart became a millstone of disappointment and sank into her belly.

Not Lord Darington then.

Perhaps he truly would not come at all. But surely he would at least seek Papa’s permission to marry, for tradition’s sake, if nothing else.

Wouldn’t he?

“A visit from Hannah is always something to look forward to,” Elizabeth said brightly before making her way to the drawing room. And indeed, it was. Usually. When the visit was not in the place of the one person who truly ought to be visiting Elizabeth.

Hannah likely had already heard the news. What on earth would she say?

Several moments later, Elizabeth had her answer as Hannah opened her arms with a squeal of delight as Elizabeth entered the peony-pink drawing room. “Felicitations on your engagement.”

Before Elizabeth could caution her friend not to overexert herself, Hannah caught Elizabeth in a hearty embrace, the swell of her pregnancy between them.

“I knew you fancied Darington.” Hannah pulled away and clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, Elizabeth, I’m absolutely overjoyed for you. I so wish I would have been there to see it.” Hannah rubbed her belly with great affection and spoke to the mound. “Not that I’m not happy to have you soon, littlest Brightstone.” She looked up to Elizabeth once more. “But to see you being announced as engaged at Lady Gentry’s ball! She must have been absolutely glowing with excitement.”

Elizabeth nodded, unsure where to even begin. After all, she could not lie to one of her dearest friends.

For if one could not be honest to one’s friends, who might they ever be honest with?

Hannah’s smile fell away and her brow furrowed. “What is it?”

Elizabeth pulled her friend to the sofa and took a breath to begin telling the whole awful tale. “I⁠—”

The butler entered with a slight nod, begging forgiveness as he lowered a silver tray with a thick cream-colored card toward Elizabeth. “Shall I say you’re at home?”

Elizabeth’s stomach clenched.

Lord Darington?

She lifted the card and read the name in elegant scrollwork. Miss Amy Honeyfield.

The doorbell chimed. The butler looked up with a frown of annoyance.

“Let her in,” Elizabeth said. “If that is Lady Jillian or Miss Beauchamp, please show them in as well.”