Page 25

THIRTEEN

Briar

I was not crying.

I was not. I was leaking. Entirely different.

After all, it would be pathetic to be crying about a gentleman who clearly had never wanted me. Had perhaps never even liked me. Even if when he looked at me, every part of me had melted. Every part of me had wanted to know what it was to be touched by him, adored by him. Loved by him.

“You’re being an idiot,” I muttered to myself as I remained curled up in a ball under the covers in my bedchamber.

Why couldn’t I lie here? Why not remain here for the rest of my life, never moving, never doing anything?

My advisors would run my financial affairs. Who knew, perhaps they’d prefer to do it without me. Lord knows, they had already tried to do that for so long, I could hardly remember a time when they actually just allowed me to do what I wanted.

I sighed heavily, the warmth of the bed cocooning me.

I never wanted to leave.

But I had to. I couldn’t spend my life hiding in my bed, just because I was stupid enough to let a man make me feel like I was nothing.

It took me at least ten minutes to clamber out of bed, and by the time I did so, I had put on, with the assistance of my maid, a heavy woolen gown and a wide shawl. Autumn was definitely here. It wasn’t the coldness in my heart that was making the air so frosty.

When I stepped out into my breakfast room…everything was how it was.

I don’t know what I had expected. I’d thrown Peregrine out two days ago and had barely left my bedchamber since. No one else had been here. I’d even told my maids to just leave a try of food at the door and told them not to come in.

Sitting slowly at the table, I saw something odd. A brown parcel.

My heart cracked slightly as I opened it up. The book Peregrine had wanted, and two history books.

“Fine. Fine! You want me out? I'm out.”

The words from our argument resounded through my head, and I blinked back tears. How could I have been so stupid to have trusted him?

Peregrine, the Duke of Markham, had given me more than enough reasons not to trust him. Time and time again, I’d wanted to believe he could be better, could be different. But he hadn’t actually given me any evidence of that, had he?

A noise. Someone in the hallway.

I don’t know why I rose to my feet so swiftly. It wasn’t even like Peregrine would be returning—but I shouldn’t have felt so disappointed when I saw who it was.

“Georgiana,” I said weakly as she gave her gloves to my butler. “I know I should have replied to your note inviting me to tea, but I?—”

“When precisely were you going to tell me that you had given your innocence to my rakish friend?” came the sharp tones of my best friend.

I winced. “Ah.”

“‘Ah’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, Briar!” said Georgiana, her voice stern. “I can’t believe you?—”

“Yes, thank you,” I said quickly, my cheeks burning as I looked away from my butler. “Come in here.”

“I just cannot believe it,” Georgiana muttered as we walked into the breakfast room. “You allowed him to seduce you, to ruin you!”

“So the fact that he moved in with me then stole from me?” I said darkly, dropping into my usual chair. “Is that better or worse?”

There was silence as my friend gazed at me darkly. Then she uttered a swearword that didn’t bear repeating.

“Briar,” said Georgiana wearily.

“I know, I know,” I said heavily. “I'm an idiot.”

“Both of you are,” Georgiana said darkly. “But if you really like him?—”

“He’s gone.”

I hadn’t intended to sound so depressed but I couldn’t help it. Peregrine was gone. And I couldn’t believe how upset I was, considering all he’d done to me.

“Leave it with me.”

I blinked. My friend’s steely gaze was unchanged. “No, Georgiana, I?—”

“This is a Gambling Dukes club mistake, and we’ll fix it,” said my best friend curtly. “Just leave it with me, won’t you?”

There was no point in arguing with her. I’d learned that a long time ago. “Fine, but Georgiana?—”

“Must be going,” Georgiana said brightly. “I’ll see you soon.”

She had marched out of the room before I could say a word, and I was alone again.

I glanced at the silver platter on the sideboard and saw I’d not received any post. Well, that wasn’t a huge surprise. Who was I expecting to write to me?

I drank my tea, and then rose to my feet, moving almost without conscious thought throughout my house. That was assuredly why I found myself standing in the hallway, just inches from his bedchamber.

My guest bedchamber, I told myself fiercely. Peregrine had only lived in it a month or so. This was my townhouse. My home.

Slowly, very slowly, I opened the door.

I'm not sure what I was expecting to see. It was just a bedchamber. Peregrine hadn’t made much of an imprint on it. He didn’t seem to own much, though now I thought about it, I was pretty sure he’d sold most of it.

There were a few books by the bed, which wasn’t made. No surprises there. A towel was hanging near the unmade fire, and there was a trunk at the end of the bed. From the doorway, I could see a pair of breeches and one of the cravats I really liked poking out of it.

My stomach lurched.

I couldn’t keep a gentleman in my life simply because I liked his cravats, I told myself fiercely. I had been stupid enough already. Gullible enough to invite this man in.

I couldn’t allow myself to make a fool of myself again.

Which was why the notebook only caught my eye as I was closing the door.

Maybe it was a flicker of light moving through the curtains which were half drawn. I don’t know what it was that made me look on the bedside table.

But when I did, I could see a notebook. A pen lay beside it and the pages were all crinkled.

I shouldn’t look. But Peregrine’s betrayal—his second one—had lit such a fire of indignation in me, I cast all thoughts of his privacy to the wind.

Why should he get that respect? He’d taken over two thousand pounds from me. Hadn’t I basically bought the possessions he’d abandoned in my room?

It didn’t take more than a few heartbeats to step into the room, pick up the notebook, and sit on the bed.

I breathed in deeply.

Damn. This place smelled like him. It was like the warm comfort of a hug embracing me as I sat there, as though Peregrine was right beside me, pulling me into his arms. I breathed in again, my eyelashes fluttering closed.

If I just sat here for a moment, I could almost forget he was gone.

I opened my eyes. The notebook lay in my hand. There was no sign of Peregrine.

My conscience prickled slightly as I opened it up, but I couldn’t help myself. I was curious—and I had a right to be. What had Peregrine been doing with my money? Had he planned it right from the beginning, perhaps? Was this all just one long con that I’d managed to get myself tangled into?

Perhaps, and my stomach lurched at the thought, it could have been anyone. Any woman. It just happened to be me.

So when I turned the page to the first in the notebook that had been written in, it took me a moment to realize Peregrine’s handwriting, though legible, had been splattered with something.

I blinked. Surely not—tears?

Kineallen, Georgiana, Lilah,

I cannot tell you how sorry I

I never thought it would ever impact you how this

You have to know, I didn’t think that

Nothing I can say can will ever make up for the fact that I betrayed you your trust but I know hope that one day

I stared. There it was, over and over again, line after line. Apologies. Apologies to his friends.

In astonished wonder, I turned over the page. This one was far more detailed.

and though I shouldn’t have got caught up with it, I did. Did you ever gamble on the edge? Feel the rush of knowing you were onto a good thing, and no one else could stop you? It was like that—and I know it shouldn’t have been. This is useless

I should never have taken your faith in me away. You’re all that I have. My family. I'm alone in the world now, and I never know how lonely I could

I should never have taken your faith in me away. You’re all that I have. My family. I'm alone in the world now, and I regret it with my whole heart. Not just because of what I’ve lost, but because of how I’ve hurt you.

I turned another page, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw my name.

Briar, will you marry

A noise. There was a noise coming from downstairs.

I hesitated for a moment, then my brain caught up. A visitor. And I couldn’t hardly pretend I was not here.

The gentleman had given his hat and gloves to my butler by the time I had descended the stairs—but I had time to see who was calling on me and for tension to creep up my neck.

Mr. Stephens. My advisor. One of them.

“Good morning, Mr. Stephens,” I said weakly. “Look, I am sorry about not replying to any letters the last few days. I’ve…I’ve been sick.”

It was a lie. But a believable one.

“Yes, your butler said,” my advisor said without much preamble. “Look, I wanted to congratulate you.”

I raised an eyebrow, even though he wouldn’t see it. “For being sick?”

“For the great investment you made, that two thousand pounds you put into the Queen’s Head,” came his words as though from a great distance.

I clutched at the banister. “I…I beg your pardon?”

My lungs constricted, every breath hurt, and though he was babbling in my ear I couldn’t take in a single word.

“—and we hadn’t spotted it as an investment opportunity, something I feel pretty silly about now. But I suppose it doesn’t matter. You did!”

“I did,” I said weakly.

I did. Or rather, Peregrine had.

The two thousand pounds. He hadn’t taken it out of my account and transferred it into his own. He’d made an investment—the one I’d been talking about for weeks. And it had made me money.

Almost doubled it, apparently.

“—send the paperwork over next week,” Mr. Stephens was saying in my ear. “And bring us the next idea you have, won’t you? We don’t want to miss out on your insight, Lady Briar.”

I blinked. “You don’t?”