AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her conversations with both Lord Nash and Lady Honoria had been illuminating, not only for her own decisions, but for insights into two of the people who had exhibited acceptance and kindness. She prayed that, unlike hers, the hopes and dreams in their fragile hearts still beat with vigor and would bring them happiness in their lives.
Her father waited patiently for her answer. She didn’t want to lie to him, but she also wished to withhold the pain she knew he would undoubtedly shoulder if she spoke the bare truth. “It was enlightening.”
“Although I’d hoped for a more respectable man as your husband, Lord Nash seems to have taken an interest.”
Contrary to what many believed, Priscilla was not stupid. Nash’s bold-faced attempts to make Timothy jealous were as clear to her as a priceless diamond, and as ineffectual as a sheep in Parliament. Oh, there was no doubt it aroused Timothy’s displeasure, but Priscilla suspected Timothy’s disapproval had more to do with Nash than her.
“As I’ve become better acquainted with him, I’ve discovered there are many layers to Lord Nash Talbot. However, what you witnessed was simply kindness on his part and an attempt to spur other gentlemen into action.”
Hands resting on the top of his cane, her father leaned forward, his eyes widening with interest. “Which other gentlemen?”
Oh, dear.She hadn’t meant that last part to slip out. “No one in particular.” The lie scorched her tongue. She assuaged her guilt with the knowledge that nothing would come of Timothy’s admitted desire for her, so it seemed a reasonable price to pay for keeping her father in the dark.
Priscilla wilted with relief when the carriage came to a rest in front of her father’s townhouse. Strange how she’d never been one for solitude before her infamous fall from grace, but after the momentous events of the day, she yearned for time to reflect on her prospects—or lack thereof. She must decide her next step.
Once again, disappointment waited.
Before they’d even arrived at the entrance, Digby threw open the front door. From the panicked look in his eyes, something had rattled his usual unflappable demeanor. “Sir, Lady Cartwright has arrived. She’s in the front parlor.”
Mother?
Her father heaved a sigh, then turned toward her. “Did you know she was coming?”
Priscilla shook her head.
“She brought a gentleman with her, sir.” Digby’s eyes darted toward Priscilla. “A Mr. Netherborne. They said they’re here for Miss Pratt.”
To fend off her father’s likely subsequent question, Priscilla shook her head again. “He did say something about coming here after he’d given me time tothink.But I’d completely forgotten about him.”
“Very well, Digby. I trust you’ve provided refreshments. Tell them Priscilla and I will be in shortly.”
After Digby scurried off like a frightened mouse, her father pinned her with a serious gaze. “You think he’s here to offer for you?”
“I suspect so. Surely he wouldn’t travel all the way from Belton for any other reason.”
“Let them stew a while longer. Personally, I need time to fortify myself with a snifter of brandy before facing your mother. Meet me at the top of the stairs in fifteen minutes. Use the time as you see fit, and then we shall face them together.”
Oh, how she loved her father.
For fifteen minutes, she prayed and paced, then prayed and paced some more, asking, nay, begging God for guidance as she weighed each of her minimal options.
If she stayed in London, with some—oh, all right, a lot—of luck, she might convince Mr. Ugbrooke to reconsider. He could provide her the security of marriage and the ability to stay in London. The negatives, however, admittedly outweighed the positives. She had more pity than affection for the Ugbrooke children, and even less for Mr. Ugbrooke himself.
Her other option would be to remain in London with her father as a spinster. Although she adored her father, her status as a spinster would only add to her disgrace with theton, and she would be forever branded as undesirable.
But the biggest draw of London also presented the biggest drawback. Any parties she would attend, as a wallflower or as Mrs. Ugbrooke, she would no doubt encounter a certain handsome, red-headed doctor. Seeing Timothy with Lady Honoria, or whomever he married, would be too great of an obstacle. Even if she gave up on the idea of happiness, she at least hoped for contentment and peace, neither of which she would have if she remained in London with a constant reminder of what she had lost.
The resignation that had enveloped her on the carriage ride home settled deep in her soul, and she knew what she had to do. Glancing at the clock, she had precisely two minutes to meet her father and face her fate.
She squared her shoulders and exited her room, armed with her decision to accept Abner Netherborne and a life in the country with sheep—and more importantly—away from Dr. Timothy Marbry.
* * *
Timothy stewedover the events of the garden party for three weeks. Thank goodness his duties at the clinic had—for the most part—kept him busy and his mind occupied. He threw himself into his work, offering to arrive early to open and staying late to close, often leaving so late at night he would return home to fall into bed exhausted.
And those were his good days.
On less favorable days, Harry insisted he leave early, or worse, take a day off. “You’ll be no use to anyone if you work yourself to the bone only to become ill yourself. I don’t want to see your face here until tomorrow. Is that understood?”
