Page 92 of The Gentlewoman Companion

Oh! Perhaps her concerns were a mere nothing. “I tried to approach but was endlessly waylaid.”

He nodded in understanding. “You aren’t wearing your brooch this evening.”

He’d noticed. Could he somehow know what she’d done? Impossible. But his stern look seemed to indicate more than an offhand interest. Her heart thudded. Was the truth too risky? Would he judge her for her brother’s behavior? For her own?

He tapped his glass and shifted away from her.

“I sold it.” The words burst out of her.

“Whatever for?” He turned toward her, all sympathy and concern, validating her choice to confess.

Her words released some of the thrumming weight that pulsed inside her, relaxing the ever-present tightness in her stomach. She could tell him some of the truth. “My brother was deeply in debt and feared being apprehended, so I sold my mother’s brooch and paid the moneylender.”

His face grew hard. “I would have helped you, had you told me. I thought that after…” He pressed his hands against his eyes. “Do you understood how much I care for you? I hoped you would trust me.”

It had never occurred to her to share this problem with him. How could she when, told in its entirety, it exposed the very thing he could never discover: her worst deed? Even if he hadn’t learned the truth, the last thing she wanted was Lord Halverton and Charles speaking together. The very idea brought a return of that unbearable ache to her middle.

“I did not consider it. It was my problem alone, and I was fully capable of dealing with it—so I did.” Hadn’t the books she’d read and the discussions she’d participated in all taught her to emulate such independence? To seize control, not in the foolish way she’d done when she’d tried to elope, but to use her resources to offer sympathy and kindness.

His sigh tugged at her center. “Alone? Is that how you see yourself in connection to me? I ask for your help, consider your opinion. I let you know what is happening in my life, but you are closed and unyielding. I want to know you, and for you to know me. It cannot be one-sided.”

She would never tell him of the Great Misjudgment, but there were things she did want to release and felt safe to impart: The pain at having been so easily dismissed by her father. The echoing ache for her mother. The sorrow of Charles and his bad habits, his yellowing skin and shaking hands. She yearned to discharge the emotions that distanced her from James, but they were bound too powerfully to untether. With feelings so massive, the sky was not vast enough to contain them, and she could not isolate the parts of herself that were safe enough to reveal.

“I cannot make you speak, but I hope you will learn to confide in me.” He looked at her with an expectation she could not meet.

“I want to explain.” Her voice hitched. “But it is a practice I am unaccustomed to. Goodnight, my lord.” She darted from the room, sobbing.

She heard his footsteps pounding after her. “Louisa.”

She faced him but covered her face with her hands.

He pulled her hands to his chest. “We have time. I will wait as long as it takes.”

“You will be disappointed,” she wept. “I am not worth the effort.” She wrenched herself free and ran up the stairs, not stopping when he called after her.