Just then, the door to Nash’s home opened, and Guinevere winked at Lilias, took out her calling card, and quickly explained that she was there to see Nash’s sister and that Lilias had business with the duke.
They followed the butler as he explained that Nash was with his mother in his study and Lady Adaline was in the garden, which was on the way to the study, so they stopped at the garden first. Guinevere grasped Lilias’s hand and, squeezing it, whispered, “Good luck,” before she disappeared behind the servant and out into the garden.
Lilias waited in the passage, her nerves mounting, but the butler returned before she could work herself up into too great a state. They continued to the study, which was, thankfully, not far from the garden entrance.
The butler knocked on the shut door, then stepped in, pulling the door almost closed behind him. Lilias heard a woman’s voice. It must have been Nash’s mother. Lilias swallowed, suddenly even more nervous. The study door opened, and the butler came out and instructed her to enter. When she did, she was surprised to see that Nash was nowhere to be found. There was only a woman—Nash’s mother, she assumed—sitting on a blue velvet settee. The woman was beautiful in a cool and aloof way. She had dark hair, much like Nash’s, but where Nash had light-gray eyes, this woman’s eyes were so dark they were almost black.
“How can I help ye? Lady Lilias, is it?”
Lilias nodded, feeling acutely self-conscious that Nash was not there and that she had no good reason to give this woman for why she was calling. She noted Nash’s mother did not ask her to sit down, and neither her tone nor her expression were welcoming. “Yes, Your Grace. I have business to discuss with your son.”
The duchess’s mouth pulled into a pucker of obvious annoyance. “What business is that?” Lilias’s mind went blank and her mouth went dry, and the duchess’s eyes narrowed, then widened. “Ye’re the girl from the Cotswolds!” It was said as an accusation.
“Yes,” Lilias replied. “I knew your son from the Cotswolds. He, the Earl of Blackwood, and I were friends.”
“Ye,” she said, pointing at Lilias, “must be what lured him from the house at unspeakable hours of the night.”
Lilias winced. “Is your son home?” she asked, feeling as if the situation with his mother was fast disintegrating. It was obvious the woman did not like her.
“He is not. He is at supper with his betrothed.”
She recoiled as if the duchess had slapped her. No. No. That could not be. Her heart refused to believe what his mother had just said. Lilias swallowed, anxiety tightening her throat. “Did you… Did you say your son was betrothed?”
“Aye,” the woman replied, the word clipped. “So whatever business ye think ye have with my son, I daresay ye do not.”
A tide of hopelessness washed over Lilias, threatening to pull her under.Betrothed.Had he done it simply to move on with his life? He’d said he wanted to let her go, that he had to. Heaven above, was this his way of doing so? Her legs felt suddenly too weak to keep her standing.
“Thank you,” she mumbled and blindly pushed her way out of the room.
The butler was there, hovering just outside the door. No doubt Nash’s mother had instructed him that Lilias would not be staying long. It took all her reserve to hold back her tears as the butler led her out and assured her he would inform Guinevere that she was ready to depart.
Once outside, Lilias started walking. She didn’t even know where she was going, but she knew she could not stand in front of Nash’s house where his mother could look out a window and see Lilias sobbing. Nor did she want to be lurking there if he happened to come home early. She had no notion what to say, what to do. She wanted to fight for him, for them, but if Nash had taken this step, she feared the guilt he already carried would not allow him to break his promise to the woman he was to wed. Lilias’s step faltered as she realized she didn’t even know to whom he was betrothed.
“Lilias!”
She turned at the sound of Guinevere’s voice and her gig upon the street. Her friend was upon her in moments. “What on earth, Lilias? Where are you going? Why—” Guinevere’s mouth slipped open, and she scrambled down from the gig, grabbing Lilias by the arms. “Why are you crying? What didthat mansay to you?”
Despite the sorrow drowning her, Lilias smiled at her sweet friend and how incensed she sounded on Lilias’s behalf. “That man,” she said, swiping at the tears that would not stop, “was not even home. His mother told me he was having supper at his betrothed’s home.”
“What?” Guinevere gasped. “No! No, that cannot be. I don’t believe it.”
Lilias frowned. There was that bit of oddness from earlier in her friend’s voice again. “Why do you not believe it? I told you of the guilt I believe he lives with, and he told me he wanted to let me go. I suppose this is his way of doing it,” she said, sobbing again.
“How would he even have time to become betrothed?” Guinevere muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Asher would have said something, I’m certain of it. Though, I suppose there is the slightest chance he might not have. He’s been very mum about what they discuss because he owes Greybourne some sort of life debt, and apparently the man demanded payment in the form of Asher not speaking to me about the duke. It’s all been so tedious. I’ve had to work very hard to learn anything about Greybourne, and—”
“Guinevere!” Lilias interrupted. “What are you talking about? What have you learned?”
“Well, for starters, your uncle did not give your mother the Cotswold home. Greybourne purchased it from him for an exorbitant sum so you and your family would not have to leave!”
She stared at Guinevere for a moment, speechless, and her heart exploded. “Nash purchased the home?”
Guinevere nodded, grinning. “And he paid all your father’s debts. I heard Asher and Nash discussing the particulars of how Nash could do it and ensure he remained anonymous. I vow I think my husband wanted me to hear. He knows my habit of eavesdropping at doors, and he took no obvious precautions such as having the conversation outside or when I was not at home. Greybourne loves you. He must if he’s done these things for you.”
Lilias could hardly believe it. She was alternately joyous and terrified. She believed he loved her, though he’d never said those three words. Yet, what he’d told her outside the club that night seemed to indicate it. His actions then, and his actions in regard to her uncle, her home, and her father’s debt, certainly indicated love, so how could he get betrothed?
You did.
She groaned, her jaw clenching, and her hands curling into fists.
