rowdy party and I’m sure his impression of me only dropped further from the very low point he’d already had.”
Noting his discomfort and obvious regret, she decided it was as good a time as any to change subjects. “I received a summons from my father today.”
Raised eyebrows was his only response. Probably relief as well to have the focus on him put aside.
“He summoned me to attend him tomorrow at three o’clock.” Gad, that sounded stiff and formal.
Of course, it was stiff and formal.
“Indeed? I assume it has something to do with your betrothed?” He stumbled over the last word. Since they’d both been busy the last couple of days, they hadn’t discussed Mr. Faulkner-Jones. Or his visit.
Frankly, she wasn’t ready to discuss it at all.
“May I ask a question?” He shifted in his seat and attempted to arrange his features in a relaxed manner but didn’t quite make it.
Well, it appeared her desire to not discuss it just disappeared. “Yes?”
“I know it is not my business—to some degree, but why did you never mention you were engaged to be married?”
She couldn’t help but notice the slight bit of disappointment in his voice? Most likely that had to do with the kiss. Remembering that kiss had her face flushing and her middle doing a vigorous country dance.
It had been quite nice, well actually more than quite nice. For a very first real kiss, it was superb, leaving her wondering if all his kisses would affect her that way. She certainly had become enthusiastic once their lips had met. Now he must think she was some sort of a jezebel, engaged to one man and kissing another.
“As I mentioned at the time, the engagement had slipped my mind.”
“While I have a hard time allowing for that, since most young women look forward to a betrothal and all the hysteria that surrounds a wedding, can you at least explain how it came about? You said something about it being years.”
Rayne sighed and rubbed her forehead. “My father and Mr. Faulkner-Jones made the arrangement sometime before I left for medical training. Father told me of the betrothal before I left to study medicine at St. Bartholomew’s. I was so excited about my training that I dismissed the engagement from my mind.
“I think we met once or twice. He didn’t speak much but kept studying me as if I were a bug under a glass. He was polite, very formal. Almost cold, one might say. As you noted, I barely recognized him when he arrived a few days ago.”
Edwin snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “It appears the man did not make a suitable impression on you if you hardly recognized him.”
Two birds flew past the window, screeching at each other. Must be a married couple, she thought. “Perhaps. I must admit he didn’t make my heartbeat jump each time we met, but being so focused on my own studies, I really didn’t care. Also, he is a scholar or something like that who travels the world looking for things.”
“Looking for things? Is he a detective?”
She laughed. “No. He unearths relics and broken pieces of items from the past and sells them to museums. Or donates them, I’m not really sure.”
For the past few days Edwin had dwelled on this very strange engagement of Rayne and the insufferable Faulkner-Jones and hoped to clear it up. He still wanted to see if there could be something between him and Rayne, but with a betrothal standing in the middle, and as a newly awakened gentleman, he could not honorably pursue her.
“And you plan to marry this man? What of your medical practice? How will you continue with your work if you are traipsing all over the world looking for ‘things’?”
“Truth be known, I do not have answers to those questions. The few times Mr. Faulkner-Jones and I have spoken, the conversation was about mundane things. The Queen’s birthday, traffic, weather, the usual English subjects of no importance.”
He leaned forward in his chair and rested his hands on his thighs. “Do you not think these are significant matters to discuss? You are speaking about the rest of your life with this man.”
“I know. I would have concerned myself with them had I remembered that the betrothal, and Mr. Faulkner-Jones himself, existed. However, I am off to see Father tomorrow, and I have an uneasy feeling either Mr. Faulkner-Jones will be there, or he has already been. Father’s note was quite abrupt.”
“What of the dinner tonight?