He didn’t want her care. That much was clear, but the question was why? Why didn’t he wish to let her in? And what was the reason he wanted a marriage in name only?
He walked her back inside and returned her to the breakfast room. Her father was still there, joined by several of her sisters. He hummed a merry tune as he ate his breakfast.
He didn’t ask anything as he ate his eggs, but he looked particularly pleased with himself as he patted his stomach. “Just what a man needs after a late night.”
“Indeed,” she answered, taking her seat and returning to her breakfast. Her father appeared rather happy for a man who’d announced he was sending his daughter away. He’d been avoiding sending them with Aunt Mildred for years. He loved his daughters and the countess had never been very friendly. Unless…
She nearly gasped. Was there really a trip to London?
She took a bite of her tart and regarded her father. “Now that you’ve proposed a trip to London, I find I am quite looking forward to it.”
Her father stopped chewing, his smile disappearing. “Really?” His fork fell and then he quickly picked it up. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
But Cordelia wasn’t fooled. His first reaction had given away the game. There was no trip to London. He’d made it up.
She looked at Ash, whose eyes had gone hard. She’d have to tell him later. Her father fancied himself an actor and he’d likely made up the story to force Dashlane into proposing. Which was exactly what had happened.
“London?” Bianca asked. “Why would Cordelia be going to London?”
Her father cleared his throat, but he didn’t get to answer as Adrianna pushed back her chair. “London? With whom? Surely not Aunt Mildred?”
Her father grimaced as her sisters erupted in a litany of complaints. She gave her father an angelic smile. He was turning green as the volume in the room rose. She leaned forward. “That is what you get,” she whispered just loud enough to be heard over the din.
He went from green to pale. “You know?”
She shrugged. “I do now. By the way, I must commend your acting. I didn’t suspect a thing. But now that I know, you deserve what they are about to rain down on you.”
Her father spluttered even as her sister’s descended, all of them talking at once.
“How could you?”
“Aunt Mildred?”
“London without us?”
Then she stood with her plate and winked at Ash. Triumph raced in her veins. Until she saw his face. He didn’t look relieved. Far from it. He’d also gone completely pale.
Oh dear. Why did he look so upset? Was he regretting his proposal?
Chapter Nine
Ash escaped the dining room and made his way out of the house and back toward the village.
She was too intelligent.
She’d quickly figure out that he was unworthy of even a sham match. That she was tying herself to the worst sort of man. A fake, a piece of Cheapside trash. His father’s favorite insult. His stomach pitched.
He combed his hair back and then scrubbed his face with his hands. He had two choices. Abandon the plan—likely the better choice—or try to push it through faster before she figured out that he was an act. She already suspected. She’d said as much last night.
And look how quickly she’d soused out her father’s fabrication. He winced, stopping in the road. And if by some chance he convinced her to marry, then what?
His body tightened. It was a bad plan. She was so lovely and he…he was committed to never making an heir. And then he dropped his head into his hands. He’d never wanted to abandon his plan more. Then he lifted his face again. It was a line of cruelty that could not continue.
Returning to the village, he stopped at the inn, to actually eat breakfast, his third attempt of the morning, and then he headed back to the cottage. He’d expected to sleep. He was exhausted after last night, but rather than rel
ax, he found himself pacing. What should he do next?
Finally, the door opened, and Crestwood and Craven entered the house. Crestwood was classically handsome with rich brown hair while Craven was dark and craggy. He’d heard women describe him as mysterious and dangerous, but Ash didn’t see it.