"That isn't true," I counter. "I can tell that she's making things difficult."
"She simply dislikes the way in which I procured our engagement."
"But you didn't do anything," I point out. "I was the one who asked you to meet me."
"And we're the only two people who know that," she counters. "There are some people who will believe us, but the majority will see me as thelady who entrapped the son of an earl into marriage."
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be."
"And yet I am." I lead her through a trellis and out towards the lake. Several ducks glide along the surface of the water, not responding to our presence, which isn't unusual. My theory is that they can sense we're like them and don't see us as something that may disturb their peace.
She lets out a loud sigh. "How are we going to make this work? Neither of us wanted marriage, and yet that is where we're going to find ourselves."
"I won't insult you by suggesting there is some way out of it that we haven't discovered."
She lets out a small laugh. "There is no way out. Not unless we wish to drag both of our families through a scandal."
"That is not my desire," I agree. "And it would certainly not make Mother like you more."
"If we weren't getting married, that wouldn't be a problem," she points out.
"Mmm." At the rate this is going, Mother is going to be an issue. She can't continue to treat Letitia this way once the two of us are married, but I'm not sure how to make certain of that. Perhaps Icould ask Father for his advice, he has several decades of experience dealing with her.
"We shall make this work," I say to her. "You said yourself that we're friends."
She pauses, an indecipherable expression on her face. "Friends," she repeats. "Yes, I suppose I did say that. Or I implied it at least."
"That gives us an advantage when it comes to marriage, don't you think?"
"I'm afraid you've lost me."
Ah, I'm not articulating myself well. "It is just that if we are friends, then we won't mind one another's company too much. Perhaps it will even be a marriage that the two of us will come to like."
"I suppose that is true."
"Why do you sound so disappointed?" I don't know why I think it's a good idea to ask that question, particularly when the answer could cause me pain, but I know I need to hear her answer.
She sighs. "It doesn't matter."
"It does to me. If we are friends, then we should be able to share such confidences. You must pretend that I am Miss Rocke for a moment."
Letitia raises her eyebrow. "You wish for me to pretend you're an otter shifter from the coast with a penchant for pastries and witty comments?"
I chuckle. "I can claim to be one of those things."
"It must be pastries, for it can't be wit," she teases.
"You wound me, Miss Swanley."
She startles at my use of her name, and I find myself questioning whether I should have used Letitia instead. But she only asked me to call her that right before we were caught, and I don't want to be too presumptuous in being familiar with her.
"Very well, I will indulge you, My Lord," she responds. "While I did not wish to marry yet, it's not that I never thought I would. I suppose there is a part of me that always yearned for a love match and I hoped I would find that once I was done enjoying myself at the various balls and engagements."
"Ah, I see."
"But that is not to be."