Page 54 of Married to the Rake

Chapter Nineteen

A knock at her bedroom door roused Chloe from her distracted state. She had a book in hand but had neglected to read a word of it, instead staring at the ceiling, wondering where on earth it went all wrong. She shut the book and sat up, shoving her hair from her face.

Someone knocked again. She cleared her throat. “Come in.” The words sounded too feeble for her liking.

The door eased open and her father eased his head around the gap, not fully stepping into the room. “May I, uh, come in?”

She hardly wanted to look at him at present but she had no energy left in her to fight with her father. For all she cared, he could ditch her on boring old Mr. Lawrence. She couldn’t feel anything about it. She just felt…numb.

He stepped in and closed the door gently behind him. His hands clasped behind his back, he glanced around the room and made an odd noise in his throat. Chloe eyed him expectantly.

“Your mother wanted me to tell you that your friends are here.”

Her friends? Lord, she had completely forgotten their plans to meet and walk into town. She considered her likely bedraggled appearance and how little energy she had. How could she face such a thing?

“I will be down in a moment,” she promised quietly. She owed her friends an explanation at least for cancelling on them.

He turned then stopped, coming back to face her. “Also, um, Chloe…about that thing…”

“Thing?”

“The, um, marriage thing.”

“Yes?”

He peered at his feet. “I was mistaken.”

“Oh.”

A bushy brow rose. “I thought you would be happy.”

“No, I am, Papa. Thank you.”

He nodded. “Good. Excellent.” He moved to the door. “Well then. Enjoy your time with your friends.”

She forced a smile and waited until her father left the room before she let it drop. Well, that was good news she supposed. She would not have to marry Mr. Lawrence after all. And that meant it did not matter that she had not eloped with Brook.

That was a good thing, was it not?

So why did she feel so awful?

With leaden feet, she made her way downstairs to find Joanna and Augusta in the entranceway.

Joanna’s brows rose when she saw her. “Chloe?”

“Joanna?”

Augusta came to her side, drawing her through into the parlor room with a gentle hand to her arm. “Whatever is the matter?”

Chloe allowed herself to be maneuvered into a chair and glanced from woman to woman. She felt awful for forgetting their plans. In truth, she had forgotten everything except Brook.

Lord, how that name sent a dart to her heart. She sniffed and pressed a hand to her chest in a bid to relieve some of the ache there. How silly of her. It would take a lot more than that to ease the pain there. She had finally taken a risk and it had failed most spectacularly. If only she had trusted her initial instincts about Brook, she could have saved herself this pain. They could never have made a successful match. Why oh why did she think a wallflower and a rogue could work together. She sniffed again and tried to swallow the aching knot in her throat but it would not shift.

“Chloe?” Joanna tried again, sinking down next to her. Ever beautiful, even in her crepe mourning dress, Chloe felt like a tangled mess in her most comfortable muslin gown and her hair messy from trying to rub away the burgeoning headache that had been plaguing her all morning

“I forgot we were meeting today.” She gave a weak smile.

“What has happened?” Augusta pressed.

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