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“She is,” Reginald agreed.
“I told Adeline that I don’t have a high opinion of your cousin,” Marcella confessed. “He’s always seemed a little…odd to me.”
“Odd? He’s the most conventional man I’ve ever met.”
Marcella nodded. “I know that, but there’s something about him that I just can’t put my finger on. That sounds like a ridiculous thing to say, but women do have a rare sense, I think, for detecting strangeness in men.”
“I shudder to think what you might detect in me.”
“If you want someone to compliment you, you could just say so,” Marcella quipped. “You don’t need to fish for my praise.”
“Sometimes, the fishing is the most enjoyable part,” Reginald replied.
“That explains a great deal of your behavior,” Marcella said, her lips twitching in amusement. “But I don’t mean your strangeness, which was created by your hard life. I mean…there’s something conniving about him. Or rather, there’s something that I just—I just don’t trust his intentions, despite having no rational evidence for why I should not trust him.”
Reginald frowned. “I find it difficult to imagine that Simon has any truly malicious intentions towards your friend. He’s too sensitive for that. I do think that he might want to marry primarily for money, now that he’s lost the Marquess of Hurrow title, but…”
Reginald furrowed his brow, looking deep in thought. He seemed disproportionately disturbed by the notion, although Marcella couldn’t quite place what must have distressed him so.
“You’re hiding something from me,” Marcella said. “What is it?”
Reginald sighed. “It’s not something I wish to reflect on.”
Marcella bit her lip. “Sometimes, that means you need to reflect on it all the more,” she said softly.
Reginald gazed at her with a sudden intensity. “It’s not something I’m especially proud of, but…my cousin Simon played a role in why I left and did not return for so long. If you must know.”
The words were sharp, but Marcella found an undercurrent of desperation beneath them. It was as if Reginald was silently pleading for her to understand, which she did, of course.
“What did he do?” Marcella asked gently.
Reginald sighed. “It was just something he said, which I took to heart. In truth, I behaved very impulsively, but…what’s done is done. All I can do now is live with the consequences of my actions, for better or worse.”
Marcella nodded. She clasped her hands in her lap. Simon had said something so cruel as to make Reginald turn his back on theton.She could scarcely believe it, but that behavior did seem to justify her own reservations about the young nobleman.
“You deserve better,” Marcella said.
“Most people deserve better than the lot which life chooses to offer them,” Reginald replied.
“And Adeline deserves better,” Marcella said. “She deserves a man who loves her because she’s so kind, reasonable, and wonderful.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
Marcella bit her lower lip. She’d already told Adeline as much. Hopefully, she’d decide to continue pursuing Lord Brookshire, rather than returning the attentions of Reginald’s cousin.
“She’s fortunate to have a friend who cares so much about her,” Reginald added.
Marcella shook her head. “I am far more fortunate than she is. Sometimes, I vex my dearest Adeline. She’s always been so patient with me. And so kind. I like her because she doesn’t hesitate to tell me when I’m thinking of doing something foolish.”
“Honesty is good to have in a friend, and I don’t think it’s something that I found until I began living in Southwark. Before that, most of my friends just told me what I wanted to hear. I think the only person who didn’t was Simon, but we didn’t get along well anyway.”
Marcella’s face softened. It sounded so awful, to be young and to feel as though one’s friends only ever said what they thought might be best received and never what was needed.
“Would you ever go back?” Marcella asked. “To Southwark?”
“Do you mean to live?”
“Yes, to live. You speak of the place as if it’s unbelievably dreadful sometimes, and yet other times, you seem as though you’re in love with it. You like the people there.”
