Page 83 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

She had felt so confused. Now, he seemed determined. And what was that large book he carried under his arm?

When they reached the dappled shade of the oak, he set down the book, took off his jacket and, after kicking away a few twigs, laid it down on a patch of thick grass. ‘Please, will you be seated?’

Surprised, she sank down onto his coat, while he sat cross-legged opposite. He picked a stem of long grass and ran it through his fingers, stripping off the seeds. He folded it up, breaking it into short pieces, then tossed it away.

She opened her mouth to speak.

‘I wanted to explain,’ he said.

She did not want to hear it. ‘It is all right; I understand.’

He glanced up from staring at the ground, curiosity in his expression. ‘Do you?’

She recalled his kindness during her own embarrassing confession. There was no need to make things worse than they already were. ‘Of course.’ How could she not understand? Lady Standish was lovely, and the woman he loved. She could only assume he had sought marriage in a fit of pique and was now regretting it. Her time away from London had allowed her try to step back from her feelings, to force herself to take the pragmatic approach. Or at least she would be able to do be pragmatic soon, given enough time. When it didn’t hurt quite, so much.

His expression darkened. ‘I see.’

She had expected him to be relieved.

‘I am sorry I left so quickly, but as you can see, Father has been quite ill. While Primrose did not request my help, I sensed her need.’

‘Your father is lucky to have such a caring daughter.’

Was he hinting that she should stay here? It would be the best resolution. ‘Thank you. He can be quite difficult and I do have the knack of dealing with his moods.’

He huffed out a breath. He appeared far from happy. ‘So you prefer to stay here.’

‘Would it not be better for us both?’ She hoped her expression didn’t give away the sadness in her heart.

She had said she understood, but what he was hearing and her look of disappointment conflicted with her words.

Anxiety churned in his gut. She was not being honest with him. He needed her honesty, trusted in it. But it was his lack of openness that had caused this rift. His inability to rely on anyone else. His fear of becoming his father.

‘We promised to be honest with each other, Florence. And I fear that I did not keep my word.’

‘No,’ she said sadly. ‘You did not.’ She flushed red and looked away. ‘I saw you and Lady Standish in Hyde Park, as did a number of other people.’

‘I am not in love with Eloise.’ The bald words came out of his mouth without thought. Oh, yes, Eloise had timed that very nicely. She had seen his wife, as George had suggested. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure of her it.

Florence shot him a mistrustful glance. ‘Then why…?’

‘This is what I wanted to explain. You said you understood, but I see that you do not.’

She smoothed her skirts over her lap. ‘Then perhaps you will enlighten me.’

At least she was willing to listen. Wasn’t that a step in the right direction? Hope flickered in his heart, a small flutter that perhaps it was not too late. This time he had to be honest with her, and with himself.

‘Eloise got herself into some trouble and George, who until a couple of weeks ago thought she could do no wrong, begged me to help her. I think she knew I likely would not refuse. I did not tell you the truth when I said she was a friend. At one time I cared for her, deeply.’

She nodded. ‘Your mother told me.’

‘I should have told you. But believe me, she is less than a friend now, after what she did in the park.’

She gazed at him and he could see a glaze of unshed tears in her eyes. He very much feared she would not forgive him for this.

‘In the last few years, Lady Standish got in with a bad crowd and ran up debts at a gambling hell.’

Her eyes widened. Her mouth made a little O of shock.