Page 64 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

Hawthorne excused himself and followed without hesitation.

Edwin drew in a breath. “I cannot explain fully,” he said at once. “There is not time.”

“You will,” Hawthorne cut in quietly, “very soon.”

“I will,” Edwin assured him. “We will.” He held Hawthorne’s gaze, allowing the implication to settle. “But for now, we require your support.” He lowered his voice slightly. “And it would serve us well if you appeared less like a thundercloud and more like an approving relation.”

Hawthorne studied him long enough to weigh the situation. “You have until tonight,” he said at last. “You will come to the house and explain everything.” He gave a polite nod to a passing acquaintance, his expression smoothing instantly into social ease. “And we will depart early. Not so early as to invite comment—but soon enough.”

“There has already been enough notice drawn,” Edwin said.

“Indeed,” Hawthorne replied.

A pause.

Then, more quietly:

“Understood.”

It was not approval.

But it was agreement.

Edwin inclined his head. “Thank you.” He stepped back, then turned toward Eliza once more.

As he crossed the room, he felt the weight of eyes upon him.

At some point, he would have to speak with Lady Molly.

Offer explanation. Apology. Something that might pass, however insufficiently, for honor.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he chose momentum over conscience.

And he did not look back.

Now—

He had a fiancée to return to.

A narrative to construct.

And a future that depended entirely upon whether the world believed it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

As Eliza stepped into the Hawthorne carriage, she sank into the plush velvet seat and released a long, steady breath.

She rolled her shoulders slowly, tipping her head from side to side, attempting to ease the tension that had gathered there.

Pere and Gabriel followed her inside, and as the carriage lurched into motion, she waited.

Silence stretched.

It was Pere who broke first. “So many questions,” she said, almost to herself. “So many questions. I hardly know where to begin.” She turned toward her husband with a pointed look. “I will say this—I had my suspicions. I would like credit for that.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, though the gesture did little to soften the tightness in his expression. Confusion lingered there. Concern as well.