Page 29 of Victorian Bride

“It is not your fault,” Lottie said. “You did not know that he does not speak of it. I imagine he thought that you had heard some gossip about that, and thought to coax it out of him.”

“If he thinks that I would do that, then perhaps it is better that he's gone,” Mya said.

If he would not let her know him, and he did not know her at all, then there was little point in their attempting to continue an intimate relationship. Eleanora laid a hand on her shoulder. “He is a hard man to judge sometimes. There is a bit of a temper there, though I have rarely seen him lose it.” Her fingers tightened just a little, comforting her. “Did he shout at you?”

Mya shook her head. “No shouting. Though he was very harsh. He said some things that I would consider rather cruel. Those, at least, he seemed to regret after, though I did not let him remain to apologize. I was not in the mood.”

“I am sure he will be back, then.” Eleanora glanced at Lottie, then back to Mya. “If he did not have a chance to apologize and he thought himself in the wrong, he will want to make that right. When he does come for that, you ought to at least speak with him.”

“Why?” Mya laughed unhappily. “He treated me as though I was attacking him, and came very near to calling me a whore. If he comes and grovels on his knees I might consider forgiving him, but I am not going to let him walk in here with some nonsense about a misunderstanding.”

“Nor should you,” Lottie cut in. “Ella didn't say you have to forgive him. Just that you ought to at least hear him out. I think that is a reasonable thing to do. Though if you wish to draw it out a little, I am hardly going to stop you.” She flashed a smile that faded quickly into a more serious expression. “Only do not let yourself stew in anger too long. It will not help you or hurt him.”

“That is not fair.” Mya sighed, and dropped her head to lean against Lottie's shoulder. “I am not saying that I will never forgive him, or that I will go about hating him forever. But he was far over the line of proper behavior, and not in a manner that is acceptable.”

“We will turn him away, then, if he returns,” Eleanora said. “But only for a week.”

“I suppose that is time enough,” Mya admitted. “Very well.”

One week.

She could deal with him then.

***

Kayden, of course, did not wait a week.

Lottie reported that he was at the door the next day, asking to be let in to speak with Mya. She sent him away, but kept the bouquet he had carried with him, placing it in a vase on the dining room table. Eleanora examined it with some fascination.

“It is a lovely apology,” she said that night at dinner. “Though I am sure that, should you choose to actually speak to him, he will accompany it with words as well.”

Mya's eyebrows lifted. “The flowers are an apology?”

“Oh, yes,” Eleanora said. “Each of the blossoms has a meaning, you see. He has very nearly made a speech with this.” She motioned to the heavy purple heads of the hyacinth. “This is sorrow. And apology. The little ones, here, are harebell. They mean humility.”

It was a rather nice gesture, Mya had to admit. Sweet, almost. “Do you think I ought to speak to him, then?” she asked.

Lottie tapped a finger thoughtfully against her lower lip, the smile settling there a clear giveaway of her intentions. “No,” she said. “I believe you ought to let him worry a short while longer. It might do him some good.”

Mya laughed, and despite Eleanor’s sigh, decided to take Lottie’s advice.

The second day, Kayden returned with a bouquet of little purple and yellow flowers, with petals like velvet. Mya took them from Eleanora and ran her fingers over the softness of the blossoms.

“What do these mean?” she asked quietly.

“They mean you are in his thoughts,” Eleanora said.

“I should hope I am,” Mya said. “After what happened.”

“You are enjoying this a little too much.” Lottie chuckled, plucking a grape from the bowl of fruit in front of her.

Mya turned to look at her, eyes wide. “I could not possibly have any idea what you might mean. You are the one who told me I ought to let him be when I asked after yesterday’s bouquet. I am only taking the sage advice of someone far more experienced in these matters than I.”

Lottie just shook her head. “I invented that look, darling. I am hardly going to fall for it.”

“You invented nothing,” Eleanora said, looking up from her plate. “I am certain you only stole it from someone else. One of those children always running about and getting in the way and pretending as though they have no idea that they were doing any such thing, most likely.”

“You wound me so deeply, my dear.”