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Louisa scrambled to her feet in a rather frantic, unladylike way before he could extend a hand to assist her. “William, you cannot simply give a speech like that and then walk away,” she exclaimed. “It is my turn to speak now.”
“What have you to tell me that I do not already know?” he said. “I am a poor man, Louisa. Worse than poor, for I am a man saddled with huge debts and few resources. It will likely take my entire life to pay off what is owed, and perhaps not even then. I have discovered family who is dependent on me, for they have even less than I. I have nothing to offer you, my dear. Quite the contrary—I have cost you a great deal.”
“You are so certain of all this, are you, without hearing what I have to say?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“And that’s it? Suddenly you have come to your senses and torn up the vowel, and you tell me I am free to go home—after ending my betrothal to another man, making a formal, public announcement with you, and reading banns in church.”
He looked out across the pond, his eyes squinting as if focused on some faraway object, and said nothing.
“William?” she said.
Silence. Stillness.
“Speak to me! You promised me you would speak to me; you said you would. You gave me your word.” Her breaths were coming in tiny gasps.
“I have said all I have to say,” he said stoically. “Except, perhaps, to tell you that I rejoice in your freedom and wish you well in your marriage to Lord Kerridge.”
Louisa felt as though she had been slapped.
He continued staring out at the pond.
“I see,” she whispered.
She stooped to retrieve her bonnet and then walked away, her back straight. She was determined that she would not look any less than the daughter of a marquess when she left him.
He would not see the tears running down her face. Not this time.
