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He did not blame her. Did he truly expect that he would reject Langley because of what was between them? Alexander had promised her nothing. They had kissed a few times and that was it. Well, maybe there had been more to it than that, but nothing substantial. Nothing that she could pin to the ground as a reason not to become engaged to Bertram Langley.
He lay there, just letting the sour disappointment sweep over him. Until just a few brief minutes ago, he had thought himself quite resigned to letting her go. He had allowed himself to grow quietly excited at the thought of sailing away and leaving this all behind for a while. But now, he realised that it had not been that at all.
He had been seeking escape, just as he had done all those years ago, when his heart had been broken.
Alexander groaned aloud. She was making a mistake. He just knew it. Olivia was so attached to the idea of falling in love that probably any ardent suitor who was charming and from the right pedigree would have swept her off her feet. There was something he did not like about Langley, even if he barely knew the man. He just did not think he was the man Olivia insisted he was. He wastoocharming.
But Alexander had let it all unfurl in front of him. He could have stepped in when he realised that his feelings for her were deepening. He could have offered her an alternative. But he had not because he had been in denial about it. He had been running just like the coward he was.
He had been willing to run to the other side of the world to avoid facing those feelings.
He swore underneath his breath. Why had he spent so much time in Cornwall? He had not needed to stay so long. A deal had been made with Milton within two days. The rest of the time he had just drunk good Cornish whisky with the man. He had been trying to stay away as long as possible to avoid all this. He had let the engagement happen. He might as well have delivered her to Langley.
He had lost her forever.
He had never loathed himself so much as he did in this moment.
Suddenly, he got off the bed. His heart was pounding heavily, and he felt slightly sick. He raced down the staircase, putting his head around the door of the parlour. His aunt and Lucy were still sitting there.
“I have urgent business,” he said in an abrupt voice. “I will be back later.”
He did not wait to hear their reply. He rushed out of the house. He would not bother with the carriage. The Earl’s house was not very far away. He would walk.
His heart was in his mouth the entire time. He knew that it was probably all too late. But he could not let her marry that man without first telling her how he felt. At the very least, he would know he had tried.
***
Olivia sat listlessly in the window alcove of the drawing room, gazing out the window with unseeing eyes. It had been three days since she had rejected Bertie’s proposal and learnt the news that her suitor had probably been a fortune hunter. She had never felt so low in her life.
She had been staying home, refusing all events. Her family and Emma were worried about her, but she refused to talk to them. What was there to say any longer?
Emma was out with her fiancé now, taking a carriage ride around Hyde Park. Her friend’s delirious happiness just made her spirits sink lower. It was not that she resented her friend’s joy. But she could not help comparing their fortunes. Emma had found the man of her dreams and was about to marry him. While Olivia had wasted time being courted by a man who was probably a fortune hunter. A man who had never loved her. A man she had never loved either.
And Captain Fletcher seemed to have vanished entirely.
The house was so silent. Her mother was out, as well, picking up some bonnets they had ordered from the milliner’s. Her grandfather was at his club. She was all alone. She had insisted upon it, but now the silence felt strangely oppressive. She just did not know what to do with herself at all.
Suddenly, she saw a man walking briskly down the street towards the house. A man whose gait looked familiar. Tall and commanding, wearing a long dark cloak, heavy dark boots, and a wide, black bicorne hat.
Her heart somersaulted in her chest. It was him. It was Captain Fletcher. He had a grim look upon his face.
She stood up, her breath coming in short, sharp gulps. It was hard to get air into her lungs. Panic overwhelmed her. It was like she was trying to breathe in water. She just could not seem to manage this basic function at all.
Desperately, she smoothed out the creases in her gown. Then she smoothed her hair. She heard the sharp rap upon the front door as if from a far distance. Then his footsteps, sharp against the floor. He was filling the doorway.
“Olivia,” he said.
“We have not seen you lately, Captain Fletcher,” she said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. “My grandfather is not at home.”
His blue eyes seemed to bore into her own. “I am not here to see your grandfather.”
She shuddered, as if a wind had passed through her body.
“I am here to see you,” he said.
“I see,” she said, trying desperately to collect herself. “Please, sit down.”
He did as she asked. She sat opposite him. There was silence. She did not know what to say at all. He looked angry for some reason, but he was trying to control it. Her eyes flickered to his hands upon his lap. They were balled into fists. His knuckles were white.
“I heard you are engaged,” he said, almost spitting the words out of his mouth. “Should I congratulate you?”
Olivia’s jaw dropped. She had not been expecting him to say that.
