Page 69 of Miss Devon’s Choice

“It is nothing. Please. I haven’t breakfasted yet, and these pastries look divine.” Rebecca served herself from a tray of sweet baked goods, not meeting anyone’s eyes. After a few moments passed, Thomas turned the conversation and the others took up the subject of blackberry hunting with varying levels of enthusiasm.

Before long, Rebecca had hold of herself enough to discuss the next evening’s ball. “I’m looking forward to it immensely. I have only been to the earl’s Christmas ball before.”

Every Christmas the Earl of Annesbury hosted a fantastic Christmas ball, and people from all over came to join in the frivolity. Though Rebecca had not technically been out yet, Virginia had insisted she attend. Aunt Jacqueline was going anyway, and allowed Rebecca to dance only with Lucas, Thomas, and the vicar. But still. The music and atmosphere had been entertainment enough.

“This ball will not be so grand, though it will be elegant,” Christine said, a little smile playing across her lips. “And you will be permitted to dance the night away, as an engaged woman must.”

Julia cleared her throat. “But you must save at least one dance for Nathaniel, my dear. He’s a wonderful dance partner.”

Rebecca started to nod, before recalling her father’s decree on that score. “Oh. But I mustn’t. It is against father’s rules. And—and I didn’t think either of you would come.” Puzzled, she looked from Julia’s mischievous grin to Nathaniel’s slight smirk. “Not that I wish you to miss the evening, but—”

“Darling,” Julia said, regaining her attention. “We are coming as the personal guests of the Lord Easton. Your Christian sent an invitation this morning, along with the news that you and Harry would be coming for a visit.”

That hardly cleared up matters. “I’m forbidden to talk with you. Why would he do that?”

Harry spoke before anyone else could. “Because he’s going to be your husband, and Father’s rules won’t matter after that.”

“He’s making a very firm statement to your father and the rest of society,” Nathaniel added, his blue eyes sparkling. He obviously relished the situation. “As guests of your betrothed, a man of high rank, to snub us in public would be folly. I’m afraid your father has been out-maneuvered again, and just when he thought he had secured a check-mate.”

Rebecca gave up all pretense of understanding as she slouched back into her chair. “It doesn’t make any sense.” She raised both hands to her temples, and she closed her eyes to think. “Why would he bother? And there are still weeks until we marry—”

“Two weeks,” Christine’s voice said helpfully, and cheerfully. “Next to no time at all.”

I suppose any punishment Father or Aunt Jacqueline contrives for me will be short, at least.

“And I have the feeling this is just the beginning,” Thomas added. Rebecca stared rather rudely at him. “What?” he asked, his expression cheerful. “I think Christian means to make you happy, Rebecca.”

“Which has left me in a state of confusion,” Rebecca said, narrowing her eyes at Thomas. “I haven’t spoken with Christian since we visited Father yesterday. Not more than what could be said between parlor and dining table last evening. I haven’t even seen him this morning.”

“Obviously he was busy arranging this,” Harry said, waving his hand to indicate all of them at the table together.

“But why?” she blurted out at last, the question sounding plaintive to her own ears. She sat forward, looking from one family member to another. “He doesn’t even want to marry me.”

Nathaniel’s fork clattered to the table and everyone else froze, creating a tableau that might’ve been humorous had the situation not been so serious. Christine held a pastry half in her mouth, Julia had a pat of butter suspended above a scone, and Harry swallowed his tea the wrong way.

Thomas recovered first, but not well. “What do you mean, doesn’t want to marry you? Isn’t he the one who arranged the whole thing?”

“His grandfather did the arranging,” Rebecca said, her voice soft in the silence.

Nathaniel spoke next. “But he signed the contracts, didn’t he? No man can be forced into marriage. He chose to go through with it. Then he met you, and of course he was pleased—”

Rebecca interrupted him, shaking her head. “No. He wasn’t. After he met me, he asked his grandfather to end the arrangement.”

“When?” Christine asked, glowering across the table. “When did he ask that, Rebecca?”

“Did he tell you this?” Thomas asked nearly the same moment.

“Father told me,” Rebecca said. “I’m not sure when, though it must’ve happened quickly. Father came after he received notice the Earl of Ivyford wished to cancel the contracts in place.”

Harry snorted and slumped back in his chair. “That explains why he was in such a hurry to leave London. Father hates the country. I couldn’t understand his eagerness to be here. I thought something might’ve been wrong with the estate.”

“But wait, I don’t understand,” Thomas said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his eyes narrowed to slits. “He came here, spent time with all of us, intending to break your engagement?”

“I don’t think I believe it.” When Nathaniel spoke, drawing their attention, Rebecca moved to the edge of her seat.

“Why no?” Any measure of hope he could give her would soothe her heart.

“We all saw him yesterday, publicly introduced as your future husband. The man is bound by honor. He wouldn’t have stood in that receiving line if he didn’t intend to wed you.”