Chapter 9
Rebecca sketched theoutline of a horse as she attempted not to think about Wicke and his heart-stalling confessions. Which, frankly, proved impossible. Two days had passed since Wicke had left for Willoughby Castle and she hadn’t heard from him since. He had been interested in her for years, gave her pleasure beyond her comprehension, and confessed he loved her. She hadfelthis desire for her. The man had doused her with his revelations and then left. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
She found it hard to wrap her mind around these past several days. Ever since she was little, Rebecca had known she was no grand beauty. She’d been teased about the color of her hair, the freckles that scattered across her cheeks, and her lack of interest in embroidery and other girly pursuits.
She had long ago accepted she would remain a spinster for life, which suited her, for she quite enjoyed the role of a businesswoman.
Rebecca paused mid-stroke in her sketching to glance at her correspondence, her gaze flicking between the envelope containing Mr. Lance’s letter and the invitation to join the merriment at Willoughby Castle sent by Langley.
She shook her head, glancing down at her sketch, and yelped.
Lord Above!
Rebecca shot up from her writing desk and scrambled back from the chair, gazing at her drawing in horror. Wicke’s features stared back at her through the page.
Panic set in. Hard.
How could she draw Wicke without realizing it? Heavens, she must be the mad one now.
There will never be any other woman for me . . . I love you.
No. No. No.
She shut her eyes against the raw emotion that still echoed through those words even in her head. He had given her what nine-year-old Rebecca had wanted, and much, much more. Passion she hadn’t dreamed could exist.
She was one secret away from Awkward Blotchy Wallflower turned Infamous Ruined Wallflower. She could not entertain Wicke’s proposal. Men like him did not marry women who owned gaming hells.
Damn the beast.
Would she have accepted him had he courted her back in her first season? Would she have been as shocked by his feelings then as she was now? Had he truly thought she was infatuated with Langley all these years?
“What am I going to do?”
Her eyes flicked back to Mr. Lance’s letter. She’d been too distracted to give any thought to the contents and stepped forward to reach for it. Perhaps Knightley’s was the perfect way to purge Wicke from her mind. She could meet up with Mr. Lance and be reminded all that was at stake.
But how to go about meeting Mr. Lance without inviting suspicion? She loved secretly running her establishment, but in moments such as these, where she had to creep around her brother and convention, it could become a chore.
A thrilling rush still, a chore nonetheless.
She considered Langley’s invitation. She supposed she could go to one of the events and meet Mr. Lance at the Queen’s Arms in Bumpstead Hollow, the local village tavern, on her way.
Which meant she would see Wicke again.
As long as she stayed far away from his bedchamber and left before sunset. Rebecca could manage that. She gave a firm nod. She could.
A soft knock sounded on her door before Caroline breezed into the chamber. A brow rose when her eyes landed on Rebecca. “What has put that look on your face?”
