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With shaking hands, Demeter opened the letter, and scanned it. She pulled in a breath through her teeth and shook her head thoroughly. “Reverend, this is not my hand, and these are m-most certainly not m-my words.” Demeter’s cheeks pinkened and she opened her mouth, then closed it again, fighting for a further response.
Cassie snatched the letter from Demeter, glanced it over, and shook her head. “That is not Demeter’s writing.”
Reverend Snelling tugged a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “That is excellent indeed.” He offered a shaky smile. “I know it is within the rights of the lady to withdraw from an engagement, but such indecision does not set a good example to those of a lower class. One must think of oneself as a guiding moral compass—”
“If one of my girls had a desire to end an engagement, I would support it wholly, Reverend,” Aunt Sarah told him firmly. “I would imagine they would have an excellent reason for wishing to do so.”
The reverend shifted on his chair. “Well, yes, of course. I would never question their judgement but—”
“Be assured, Reverend.” Cassie waved the letter at him. “This did not come from Demeter, and she has no intention of calling off the wedding. This letter is a fraud.”
Eleanor grimaced and met Cassie’s gaze. This confirmed her suspicions that the stealing of Demeter’s dress was no accident or mistake. Someone was targeting Demeter.
∞∞∞
“What are you doing here at this time of day?” Blake demanded when he strode into White’s and threw himself onto the chair opposite Oliver.
Oliver glanced at the grandfather clock. Admittedly, it was a little early for drinking. “My mother,” he said simply.
“She’s hounding you again?”
“I saw her arrive and snuck out of the servant’s entrance,” he admitted. “Now the Season is not far from an end, she’s plaguing me more than ever.Why will you not pluck up an eligible girl, Oliver?” he mimicked. “There are plenty left on the marriage mart, Oliver. Several are quite acceptable, Oliver.”
“Most mothers want their sons married.” A waiter brought over a glass of brandy and Blake threw it back, then requested another.
“My mother doesn’t just want me married, shedemandsit.” Oliver shook his head. “You would think after her jaunt into matrimony and the God-awful matches my siblings made, she would lose interest in such a terrible institution.”
“Were you not the one telling me I should cease partaking in dalliances and find a steady woman?” Blake pointed out.
“I was speaking of a mistress, and you well know it.” Oliver sipped his whisky leisurely, enjoying the warm burn as it spread through his body. Anything to rid himself of the icy-cold sensation his witch of a mother left him with. “But I am not saddened you found Demeter. She is a fine woman and has done you good.”
“Not all matches are terrible.”
“You two are a rarity, and I know full well whoever my mother has in mind for me will be about as good a match as the ones she found for my brothers.” Oliver shook his head vigorously. “No, thank you, not for me.” He eyed the second empty glass in front of Blake. “Anyway, what areyoudoing here at this time and why have you just put away two good drinks in a matter of seconds?”
Blake ran a hand over his face and leaned back in his chair. “The wedding was nearly called off.”
Oliver straightened. “Off? Demeter did not—”
Blake shook his head.
“Not you?” Oliver tensed, ready to pound some sense into his friend if needed and regretting his words on the topic of marriage already. “You know you’ll never find a woman like her.”
“God, Ashford, not me. Of course not me.”
“Then what the bloody heck do you mean? Her father did not change his mind, did he?”
“A letter was sent to the reverend, supposedly from Demeter, informing him she no longer wished to go through with the wedding.”
“A letter?” Oliver repeated.
“Yes. Demeter showed it to me.”
“And it definitely wasn’t from her?”
Blake cocked his head. “If it was, why would she show me? Besides, it wasn’t her hand.”
“So someone sent a letter trying to persuade the reverend the wedding was no longer going ahead?”
