Chapter Twenty-One
“Have you heard? Lord Sherburn has left London.”
Perdie stopped just inside the threshold of 48 Berkeley Square. Her hands stilled on the laces of her bonnet. They threatened to choke her, but she couldn’t manage to move. She couldn’t even manage to breathe.
She hadn’t heard a word from Thaddeus since she’d told him to leave her be. It ought to reassure her that he was respecting her wishes. It only made her more miserable. She’d been sick to her stomach ever since her brother had insisted that she marry. Ever since Thaddeus had suggested she might be pregnant.
She didn’t want to contemplate such a future. But her courses were several days late, and it was wearing her thin.
The voices drifting from the other room continued with their idle gossip. “That cannot be. He’s only just arrived.”
“I heard it from my sister-in-law, who had it straight from the mouth of his aunt. He left London with scarcely a goodbye.”
“But…I haven’t seen news of an engagement in the papers. He cannot be so confident of his preference in Perdie’s eyes to leave now.”
“I’m only repeating what I heard.”
Perdie viscerally felt Felicity’s gaze on her. She didn’t look at her friend, but calmly continued to remove her bonnet with shaking fingers. She hung it on a hook next to the door and left her shoes there as well, never mind that they were lonely on that patch of floor all by their lonesome. Felicity touched Perdie’s arm but didn’t say a word.
Perdie swallowed. Her voice came out a little hoarse as she murmured, “You go on. I just…I want a moment. Maybe I’ll go to the library for a book.”
“Are you certain you want to stay? We can return home instead.”
Home, where Perdie’s mother kept trying to coax her away from this “flight of madness” and into a respectable marriage. Home, where her brother insisted he didn’t want her to become a social pariah—and neither did she, if she would stop to think on her circumstances a moment. Home, where Lord Owen continued to appear to call on her no matter how many times she sent him away. No, Perdie couldn’t go home.
In the next room, the gossip continued unabated. “He must have received correspondence of some urgency. Some news at his estate, or perhaps a member of his family is unwell. I can think of no other reason he would leave so abruptly.”
Perdie could, if he was bent on respecting her wishes. After all, he couldn’t see her if she wasn’t in the same city. If he had remained, they would have crossed paths sooner or later at one of the events, and it would stir the painful emotions currently beating at Perdie’s breast, and most likely his breast also. She hadn’t meant for their association to end this way.
Perdie had meant to preserve their happy memories and leave without bitterness or rancor. She should have known better than to allow herself to be swept up by his charm and the warm feeling that never failed to curl her toes when he smiled at her. When it had happened, she’d thought to herself that there would be no harm in a few more stolen kisses for one season. That they could still part amicably in the end. And perhaps, when he’d declared he would change her mind, a small part of her had hoped that she would. But she hadn’t. Marriage was just as much a shackle, just as much a noose threatening to choke her as it was the day they had met.
The black fright that had swept through her mind at the idea of being pregnant had been terrible. It would mean the end of all dreams and hopes. It would mean a marriage now. It would mean staying at home with a child, unable to travel or enjoy the museums and theatres as much as she would like.
But some part of her still wilted, knowing that he wasn’t at hand any longer. Knowing that he wouldn’t fight for her.
No. He was respecting her wishes. This was what she had wanted.
She realized that she hadn’t answered Felicity only when her friend squeezed her elbow. She shook herself and forced a smile. “It’s fine, Felicity. I would rather be here.”
Felicity didn’t look as though she believed that any more than Perdie did.
It wasn’t difficult to find a quiet corner of the manor. Whenever the ladies came for the club, they tended to cluster and congregate, exchanging news or learning new, forbidden skills. Perdie found the library without incident. She sat in an armchair and stared at her hands.
She didn’t know how much time passed before Theo found her there.
There had always been something comforting about the older woman’s presence. Now that she was her sister, spending every morning in the breakfast room, stealing kisses from Sebastian when they thought no one was around to see, that feeling of comfort, of home had only grown. It was good, knowing that her brother had somebody to comfort him, somebody to love. Somebody who loved him back and wasn’t as averse to becoming his duchess as Perdie was to becoming a countess. Still, when her sister-in-law perched on a nearby armchair, Perdie couldn’t dredge up more than a halfhearted smile in greeting.
They sat like that, in silence, for long moments before Lady Theo spoke. “Your brother told me of the fight you had. You’ve been avoiding him.”
“He’s been stubborn.”
Theo chuckled. “I hear it runs in the family.”
The barb was blunted by the laughter in her voice. Perdie glanced up to see her eyes shining. Not with pity, but certainly with concern.
“Would you care to tell me why you turned him down?”
Perdie stiffened. “Lord Owen? He deliberately compromised me. This is a man who only cares about his own wants. I’m certainly not going to reward that behavior by—”