“What happened to Edgar?” he asked.
“He doesn’t need me. I have no cure for what ails him.”
“Mari, about last night. I shouldn’t have said—”
She met his gaze then, and the hurt he saw in her eyes stopped his heart cold. “No apologies, Your Grace. No guilt. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, there is. I was wrong to speak so harshly. To push you away. My mother drives me a little bit insane.”
“Keep your friends close, your enemies closer,” she said with a prim purse of her lips.
He’d pushed her back to the proverbs.
“Where are the children?” he asked.
“With Mrs. Fairfield. They’ve gone out to be fitted for new clothing.”
Actually, he’d asked Mrs. Fairfield to outfit the children for Southend with bathing costumes and comfortable clothing fit for the seashore. His housekeeper was privy to the surprise.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asked Mari.
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“But you have no family in London. You’re going alone? It’s not safe for a woman alone on the streets of London.”
“I do have a life that doesn’t revolve around you and your children, you know.”
“At least take one of my carriages. Take a groom with you. It looks like rain.”
Please, let me do something for you. Don’t just leave me standing here like a fool.
“And what would I need with a carriage and a groom of my own? I’mmerelythe governess.”
Ouch.
She hoisted her umbrella and swept past him, head held high. “Good day, Your Grace.”
Edgar wasn’t following Mari, not really.
He just couldn’t let her storm off hating him. He’d think of something, some way to make his apologies, before she’d walked too far.
He’d really made a hash of things this time.
She didn’t need him looking out for her. But she was still fresh from the countryside. And there were wolves prowling these streets.
And you’re one of them.
He had to follow her because, fool that he was, when he saw her he forgot everything else and just wanted to be as close to her as possible.
Mari had a sinking feeling that she shouldn’t have met Lord Haddock at the museum.
She’d been grasping at straws. Though Haddock wasn’t a straw. More like the proverbial camel.
He led her around the Gallery of Antiquities, elaborating in a booming, self-important tone about the supposed significance of this spear, or that chariot.