Page 56 of Miss Devon’s Choice

“Why would he?” her father asked dismissively. “You’re a woman. What do you know of such things? And why show his hand, when it has yet to come to pass? I have informed my solicitor to argue the matter as long as possible.” He abruptly came across the room, his shoulders squared and his eyes blazing.

Rebecca stumbled back a step, but he caught her arm to keep her still. “It cannot be,” she whispered frantically, watching her father, frightened of what he would do. He’d never struck her before, but with such an insult before him—

“Oh, but it is true,” her father hissed, his hold on her tightening. “Somehow, despite all my efforts, one of my daughters still ruins my plans to see this family made into something greater. All you had to do was show up at your wedding, but instead the viscount met you and rejected you completely.” He looked her over, finding every flaw in her features, then pushed her from him in disgust.

Rebecca’s knees nearly gave out, but she found the back of a chair to lean upon. When her father withdrew, her mind began working again, her panic replaced by despair. How could Christian do this to her? Breaking their engagement would ruin her reputation beyond repair, and it would result in her father’s severe and vengeful punishment.

Christian wasn’t the type of man to do such a thing to a woman. He wouldn’t do it to her. He had kissed her. He’d confided in her. Met her sisters. Why would he ever seek for her ruin? His honor wouldn’t allow it. Society would cast aspersions on them both, but it would shun her completely for being part of a broken betrothal.

The woman was always at fault. Always seen as a lesser creature, unworthy and unwanted.

“You will fix this,” her father said, the weight of lead in each word. “Or you will regret it until the end of your days.”

She dared to look at him, finding only anger and hatred in his eyes.

“How?” she dared to whisper. “If he doesn’t want me—”

“Make him want you. I care not how.” He moved toward her and Rebecca shrunk into herself, but he brushed past her without touching her again. “Repair the damage and do it quickly. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” But she didn’t understand. Not any of it. Her answer satisfied him well enough. He left, the door closing behind him with a harsh snap. And she stood, unmoving in the shadows.

Christian had promised to be honest with her, from the very beginning. If he truly had requested an end to their betrothal, behaving as though it was an eventuality was a lie and dishonorable.

I cannot think him so cold. She shuddered and moved away from the shadows, to the tall windows flooding the rest of the room in light. She leaned up against one, allowing warmth to seep into her shoulder.

There was no help for her. She couldn’t tell her sisters what she had learned. That would turn them against Christian forever. Dared she ask Christian? Perhaps it was only a misunderstanding.

But if it wasn’t, if she was wrong about him, her future was far less uncertain than it had been before she met him. She’d taken it for granted they would wed, whether they liked each other or not, whether she fell in love with him as she planned or not.

Despairing, Rebecca nearly gave in to her tears. Only the last shreds of reason kept her emotions in check until she’d gained the privacy of her bedroom. She folded herself onto her bed, the tears falling silently, her mind fighting to understand her circumstances and how she might see herself out of them.

She envied Fanny Price of Mansfield Park at that moment. The fictional woman’s troubles paled in comparison to Rebecca’s and would doubtless be resolved in Fanny’s favor. In the real world, nothing ever ended so tidily as it did in a novel.

Chapter Twenty-one

Although he found it odd that Mr. Devon would not make it a point to seek him out, now that the man was in the neighborhood, after seeing his effect on his daughter, Christian counted himself lucky. Rebecca had been out of sorts the whole evening after her father’s visit. Her smiles had seemed pasted on, her posture timid. She’d excused herself after dinner, citing a headache for her sudden need to withdraw.

The next day, she’d been waiting for him after the hunt, her brother with her. She’d been more like herself, though a touch quieter. Or perhaps it only seemed that way because her younger brother had so much to say. Harry managed to attend every event held, from after breakfast to before dinner, for two whole days.

When the men were hunting, Harry and Rebecca either amused themselves in the library or played with their young cousins, they told him.

After Rebecca confided in Harry that their eldest sister was staying with the Gilberts, he made it a point to slip away for an hour or two, visiting them. He also reassured Rebecca that not a word of Julia’s visit had come to their father, which Christian noted was a great relief to them both.

When Harry was away visiting, Christian invited Rebecca to help him check every fireplace in the house for the earl’s hidden treasure. Her maid shadowed them, which seemed to cast a shadow over Rebecca’s mood.

Hearth and home is where the treasure lives. But you must have lofty thoughts to find where it’s hid.

They must’ve repeated the words a dozen times, but Christian didn’t think they were any closer to understanding them.

Christian found her sitting with Harry, talking of the boy’s studies, when he escaped from the earl’s study one afternoon. They were in a small window seat off the first-floor hallway. Harry leaned against the window and Rebecca had curled her legs beneath her on the cushions.

“My head is full of agriculture and the price of beef,” Christian said, tired and hoping for one of Rebecca’s beautiful smiles or quick-witted responses.

She barely raised her eyes from her lap.

“It is your own fault for spending so much time with politicians who are also landowners,” Harry replied smartly.

Rebecca chuckled and lowered her feet to the ground, but her attention seemed more on her brother than on Christian. It was ridiculous to notice such a thing, and to be troubled by it. She cared a great deal for her brother, after all, and rarely spent time with him.