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“Let’s discuss the arrangements that need to be made, and we can decide the timing later,” his mother said, rescuing him from the prolonged silence.

An hour later, they’d finished eating and were retiring to the drawing room to talk about the wedding itself in more detail. Trevor waited until his family had left the dining room before stealing away to the library. He needed a moment to himself to gather his thoughts, or he’d make even more of a fool of himself.

He sat in the comfiest armchair, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. His mind wouldn’t stop whirling, so he started mentally cataloging the different subspecies of wheat in an attempt to calm his thoughts.

A floorboard creaked, and his eyes flew open. His father hovered a few yards away, frozen on the spot, obviously not having meant to make a noise.

Lord Wembley winced. “Sorry to disturb you. I noticed you’d disappeared and thought I might lend a listening ear if you need to talk.”

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to be a bother. I’ll return with you to the others.”

His father held up a hand. “Wait. What’s on your mind? I can tell there’s something.”

Trevor considered whether to share his fears. It seemed hypocritical not to, since he’d just been cursing the falseness of behavior that society encouraged. “I’m afraid that Miss Dalton wouldn’t have chosen me if she had other decent options.”

Lord Wembley lowered himself onto the nearby sofa. “She had other suitors, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but Mother herself said that she couldn’t afford to be choosy, and I’m not certain she wished to marry at all. I worry…” He sighed heavily. “I worry that I won’t be able to make her happy.”

To his surprise, his father didn’t immediately try to reassure him. Instead, he looked thoughtful. “Did you know that my marriage to your mother was an arranged one?”

“I think I might have heard that.”

“But we’re happy together—or at least, I like to think so. I try to be the man she needs. I work at it every day, and that’s all you can do for Seraphina. Be the best man you can for her, and if she’s the kind of woman I think she is, she’ll appreciate your effort.”

Be the best man you can.

He mused on the words. What did that mean when it came to Seraphina? Obviously, he would encourage her scientific interests however he could, but what about beyond that? What would make her happy?

Independence.

If he settled money on her, she’d be able to make her own choices. He wouldn’t be able to do that until they were wed, of course, but if he let her know what he intended to do, then she could plan accordingly. A delayed wedding would give her more time to choose what came next.

It was the best gift he could give her.

He looked up, intending to thank his father, but Lord Wembley was gone.

Fortified by a newfound sense of certainty, Trevor rose from the chair and headed to the parlor. He paused in the doorway, listening as his mother and Seraphina debated the merits of roses versus lilies of the valley for the wedding bouquets. He knew they both had floriographic meanings, but Lord only knew what those were.

He cleared his throat, and when no one seemed to hear him, he did so again, more loudly this time. Once all eyes were on him, he ignored the urge to tug at his cravat and loosen it even further.

“I think delaying the ceremony is for the best. Perhaps another month or so. There’s no hurry.” He raised his chin. “I also want to change the terms of the marriage settlement.” Mr. Dalton looked about to protest, so he hurried on. “I’d like to settle a sum of money on Miss Dalton so that she may have some freedom of choice.”

A quick intake of breath drew his attention to the woman in question. Her lips were parted, her eyes locked on him, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words.

He forced himself to add, “Also, you may remain in London while I return to Nunhaven, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

He stopped, and for a long minute, during which the clock ticked ominously in the background, no one said a word.

“How unusual,” his mother murmured eventually, unusually quiet.

“Has Seraphina done or said something to make you think she would choose not to stay at your side?” Mr. Dalton demanded, his voice harsh, and Seraphina shrank slightly, as if to avoid his notice.

“Nothing of the kind.” It should have occurred to him that someone might think that, shouldn’t it? “I’m just trying to be practical.”

“I don’t see any reason why the marriage settlement can’t be amended,” Lord Wembley said, and Trevor sent his father silent gratitude for the support.

Seraphina got up and came over to him. “Might we speak privately in the corner of the room?”