in. Mr. Merton at the bank told me so. Mama would have left me her money outright, but Papa insisted upon conditions. It is just like him. The money was to be mine when I married, unless I should do so before I came of age. Otherwise, I must wait until I am five-and-twenty. Isn’t that infamous?”
Carshin’s pale face had gone ashen. “But you are not eighteen for…”
“Four months,” she finished. Sensing his consternation, she added, “Is something wrong?”
His expression was intent, but he was not looking at her. “We must simply wait to be married,” he murmured. “We cannot go to London, of course. We shall have to live very quietly in the country, and—”
“Wait!” Diana was aghast. “Gerald, you promised me we should be married at once. Indeed, I never could have”—she choked on the word “eloped”—“left home otherwise.”
Meeting her eyes, Gerald saw unshakable determination, and the collapse of all his careful plans. One thing his rather unconventional life had taught him was to read others’ intentions. Diana would not be swayed by argument, however logical.
Why had she withheld this crucial piece of information? he wondered. This was all her fault. In fact, she had neatly trapped him into compromising her. But if she thought that the proprieties weighed with him, she was mistaken. The chit deserved whatever she got.
He looked up, and met her worried gaze. The naked appeal in her dark eyes stopped the flood of recrimination on his tongue, but it did not change his mind. Hunching a shoulder defensively, he rose. “I should see about the horses. You had better get dressed.”
“Yes, I will,” replied Diana eagerly, relief making her weak. “I won’t be a minute.”
Gerald nodded curtly, and went out.
But when Diana descended the narrow stair a half hour later, her small valise in her hand, there was no sign of Gerald Carshin. There were only a truculent innkeeper proffering a bill, two sniggering postboys, and a round-eyed chambermaid wiping her hands in her apron.
Diana refused to believe Gerald was gone. Even when it was pointed out that a horse was missing from the stable, along with the gentleman’s valise from the hired chaise, Diana shook her head stubbornly. She sat down in the private parlor to await Gerald’s return, concentrating all her faculties on appearing unconcerned. But as the minutes ticked past, her certainty slowly ebbed, and after a while she was trembling under the realization that she had been abandoned far from her home.
Papa had been right. He had said that Gerald wanted nothing but her money. She had thought that his willingness to marry her at seventeen proved otherwise, but she saw now that this wasn’t so. Gerald had simply not understood. Hadn’t she told him all the terms of her mother’s will? She thought she had, but her memory of their early meetings was blurred by a romantically golden haze.
It hardly mattered now, in any case. Gerald was gone, and she must think what to do. With shaking fingers Diana opened her reticule and counted the money she had managed to scrape together. Four pounds and seven shillings. It would never be enough to pay the postboys and the inn. She could give them what she had, but where would she go afterward, penniless?
Tears started then, for her present plight and for the ruin of all her hopes and plans. Diana put her face in her hands and sobbed.
It was thus that the innkeeper found her sometime later. He strode into the parlor with an impatient frown, but it faded when he saw Diana’s misery. “Here, now,” he said, “don’t take on so.” His words had no discernible effect, and he began to look uneasy. “Wait here a moment until I fetch my wife,” he added, backing quickly to the door. Diana paid no heed. She scarcely heard.
A short time later a small plump woman bustled into the room and stood before Diana with her hands on her hips. Her husband peered around the door, but the older woman motioned brusquely for him to shut it, leaving them alone. “Now, miss,” she said then, “crying will do you no good, though I can’t say as I blame you for it. An elopement, was it?”
Diana cried harder.
The woman nodded. “And your young man has changed his mind seemingly. Well, you’ve made a bad mistake, no denying that.”
Still, the only response was sobs.
“Have you any money at all?”
Diana struggled to control herself. She must make an effort to honor her obligations,