having no other place to go. The fire felt overwhelmingly hot, so I stepped away. “You should warm yourself.”
Walking forward, he stood a moment before the fire, hands at his side, before placing a hand on the mantel with a frown. He glanced at me, then straightened and turned to me.
“Miss Brinton, you have made your dislike both of me and of the prospect of marriage to me perfectly plain on more than one occasion. Therefore, I see no reason to continue as we are. I will speak to your father. If he is agreeable, let us end this engagement to which you are so averse.”
End the engagement? Was he in earnest?
I was to be set at liberty to keep my promise once again. “You would do this?”
He frowned. “Contrary to what you think of me, I am a man of conscience. Your sister’s being lost was entirely my fault.” He shook his head. “I should never have allowed this to continue for so long.”
What did he mean? “Allowed what to continue?”
“You made your feelings for me quite clear at that unfortunate party. I should have known this would be impossible. One cannot convince a person who will not see reason.” It was a reiteration of his words from the Hickmores’, but this time he said it almost to himself, his tone sounding tired and a little sad. His frown deepened. “However, I again assert that my cousin is not for you. Choose someone else, someone with enough sense to support you comfortably but with a strong constitution to withstand your opinions, for you will be discontent otherwise.”
He truly was releasing me. It was over.
The rush of relief I should have felt never came. Instead, the lingering warmth from the fire turned cold and an uncertainty that this wasn’t what I really wanted needled at me. “It is not that I dislike you—”
He held up a hand, stopping me. “You needn’t concern yourself with soothing my vanity. We have enjoyed being rather forthright with each other. I do not care to muddle it with false words and sentiments.”
A kitchen maid entered with platters of food and set them on the table before leaving.
“My lord—”
He sighed but didn’t protest my use of his title.
It was indeed over. “Thank you.”
He nodded.
How awkward it was now to notice the way his hair curled under the influence of the drying heat or how his coat didn’t quite hide the muscular shape of his shoulders or the way his eyes, now distant and closed, still spoke of safety.
He truly was nearly as handsome as Mr. Northam, though in a different way. There was no darkness to his features, no alluring mystery about his character. There was no playful beckoning but a serious, honest openness to his expression. If one were seeking love, Lord Williams was definitely preferable to Mr. Northam.
I moved to his seat, straightened the utensils and platters, then stepped away. “Everything is ready for you.”
He crossed toward me. “Are you not eating as well?”
I shook my head.
He seemed about to object, but stopped. “Won’t you be seated, at least?”
It was a small request. Gentlemanly.
I nodded. He assisted me with my chair before taking his own.
I studied him as he dished potatoes and steak from the platter. Alice was safe. He’d found her, staying in the storm for hours until he did. My father was correct; Lord Williams was a good man.
He was also self-important and overbearing. He’d displayed a want of consideration for others on more than one occasion. Yet had I not done the same?
At that moment the thing I desired more than anything else was for there to have never been an Edward, for him to have never interfered in my life. I wished that I had met Lord Williams first, and that I’d had the chance to call him Gregory. Even if it had come to naught, at least we would have had a chance.
But of course such a wish could never come true. And there was no reason to think of it any longer. It was over. He would most likely leave in the morning. And I would never see him again.
The door burst open. Realizing that I had unintentionally shifted closer to Lord Williams, I scrambled out of my chair. Daniel stood in the doorway, drenched but with a smile covering his face. “You found her.”
I clasped the back of the chair. “Yes. Lord Williams did. She’s in her room. Mother is with her. And Mary. And Father.”