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Rowena fought to keep her emotions from getting the better of her. As rattled as the baroness had her, she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of collapsing into a fit of hysterical sobbing.
“Does Andrew agree with that?” Rowena asked, hating how weak and uncertain she sounded.
The dowager chortled.
“Andrew Elton deserves better,” she said, her words laced with venom. “Far better than a scandalous spinster.”
All the courage Rowena struggled to muster dissipated as the baroness made her declaration. It was what Rowena had feared, and now she was hearing it spoken aloud, and with as much conviction as malice. She desperately wanted to say something to protect herself, or at least defend Andrew’s right to make his own decisions. But she was humiliated and scared, and she couldn’t force the words from her lips.
The dowager, sensing Rowena’s distress, sneered.
“Look at you,” she said. “You know it’s true, don’t you? The wholetonknows what you are. Marrying my Andrew would only cause them to gossip even more. Really, it is in the best interests of all of us if you call off the betrothal. Wouldn’t you agree, dear?”
Floundering, Rowena opened her mouth, intending to say something, anything, to keep from looking weaker than she already did. But the dowager had no intention of giving her the chance. She simply gave Rowena a superior smirk as she turned on her heels and sailed out of the room.
Rowena stared after her, feeling as though time was moving impossibly slowly. She could feel the fragile contentment she had begun to allow herself collapsing. Her hopes of saving her family, finding happiness, and being in a loving marriage dissolved in an instant, as did her determination not to cry.
She fell onto the sofa, sobbing. Seconds later, Sally appeared, pulling Rowena close to her and gently rubbing her back.
“There, there,” Sally said. “It’s all right, miss. What happened?”
Rowena tried to speak, but she choked on her sobs. She shook her head, trying to stifle her cries with her hands. She wanted to confide in her maid, but she could not form words through her sobbing. What was she supposed to do now, after what the dowager had said to her? Had the woman done it on her own behalf? Or on Andrew’s? Devastated, all Rowena could do was continue to cry.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Brother,” Gemma gushed, embracing Andrew tightly enough to stifle his breathing for a moment, “I never knew you could dance so well.”
Andrew laughed.
“I don’t believe I knew either,” he said.
Edmund clapped him on the back once his wife stepped away from Andrew.
“It would seem as though inspiration struck you on the dance floor,” he said.
Andrew could feel his cheeks growing hot. It had been hard to ignore the connection he’d felt to Rowena as they danced. But now the dance had ended, it was all too easy for the doubts to return.
It didn’t help that he had spotted Rowena slipping out of the ballroom a few minutes prior. He had hoped she would return shortly, but as more time passed and she didn’t reappear, he became concerned. Had she suddenly fallen ill? Should he ask one of the servants to check on her?
Edmund was saying something more to him, but Andrew was no longer paying any attention. Because, just then, he saw his mother entering the ballroom surreptitiously. He did not recall seeing her leave. The expression on her face struck him as odd. It was smug and satisfied, and it instantly made Andrew feel unsettled.
All at once, he knew with certainty that he must go and find Rowena himself. He considered pulling his mother to the side before he did so, but his inexplicable unease was intensifying by the second.
“Please, excuse me,” he said hurriedly to his sister and her husband. Before they could respond, he turned and hurried away to the exit.
His mind spun as he rushed out of the room. He had never had such a strong moment of intuition. Though he had little to go on, he was suddenly very sure his mother’s absence from the ballroom had something to do with Rowena.
He was steadily becoming equally sure that whatever encounter they might have had was a nasty one for Rowena. He silently vowed that, if that was the case, he would put his mother in her place once and for all.
Please, let her be fine,he thought, his panic rising with each empty room he checked for his missing fiancée. He encountered a few locked doors, and he paused outside of each one, pressing his ear against the, cursing under his breath when he heard nothing on the other side.
He became frantic as his search continued to turn up no sign of his fiancée. He couldn’t remember exactly how long she had been gone from the ballroom and, therefore, couldn’t guess how far she might have gone. But with each passing minute, the cold ball of dread in his stomach grew, fueling his panicked search.
He was plotting his escape to the upper stories of the mansion when he thought he heard something. He froze, holding his breath, straining to hear it again. At first, there was nothing, and his heart sank. But then, it came again, a faint but clear sobbing sound. Though he had never heard her cry, he knew it was Rowena.
His stomach twisted as he quietly followed the sound to a small parlor. He opened the door slowly, peeking in. As he expected, there sat Rowena with her face in her hands, being comforted by a concerned looking Sally.
“Rowena!” Andrew said softly, entering the room. “What’s wrong?”
