“That was frankly honest.”
“Did you wish for me to lie?”
“No. I am a man who appreciates honesty.”
“Likewise.”
And there was a throb of hurt in her voice that he could discern. “Someone hurt you by lying.”
She gasped. “I am surprised you perceived it. But someone did.”
“The man who followed you outside?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“How did he lie?”
There was a lengthy silence, during which he listened to the faint laughter and strains of music from the orchestra in the house. Finally she said, “He asked me to marry him. I said yes. That was six years ago.”
She sounded ashamed, and a part of him regretted having to rouse such memories for her. “The failing is his own. It is not a reflection on you. Not everyone understands their word is their honor or the sacrosanct nature of a promise.”
A promise made was a promise kept. Something Robert believed wholeheartedly.
Her chuckle was rueful. “I waited for six years to marry. I knew it was a long time to hope and plan for a wedding, but a lady should not ask after these matters. It was just not done. It was improperandimpolite. So I waited and…last season he married another lady. Someone far more suitable to be his wife.”
“Your father should have put a bullet in him.”
A shock sound escaped her. “A duel?”
“Yes.”
“Why do men address issues by picking up a pistol? It is terribly mystifying, this notion of violence to defend honor.”
“Wouldn’t you have felt satisfaction to shoot him or stab him with a rapier?”
“Perhaps,” she said with a spurt of humor. “I saw him a few months after his marriage in Hyde Park. He felt compelled to explain why…why he had disappointed my expectations. He said I am not pretty or young or connected enough. He said he heard the whispers that referred to me as awallflower.”
There was that odd echo of shame again. “He is more than a bacon-brained prig. He lied to you with his promises. Why did he chase you?”
“Somehow he knew it was me. Baffling. I perceived he did not think I belonged here.”
He was getting used to the moments of silence that fell between their threads of conversation. It did not feel uncomfortable as they absorbed the darkness, each possibly wondering what next to say to the other person. Each not wanting to leave this highly unexpected yet very interesting encounter.
“I have never shared this with anyone before,” she said softly. “Not even with my cousin or my dearest friend.”
How surprised she sounded. “It is easy to speak with a stranger in the dark. We will never see each other again.”
“I suppose we won’t.”
She sounded wistful and perhaps a bit saddened. Robert was surprised to feel a longing to know her beyond this encounter.
“Why did you come here?” she asked. “To Lady Scarsdale’s masquerade?”
“My cousin encouraged me to in the hopes I might find myself some companionship. For reasons beyond my comprehension, I did.”
There was a noticeable hitch in her breathing. “What brought you outside? Atryst?”
“Boredom.”