Page 75 of Almost A Scoundrel
“Goodbye, Phaedra.”
“Goodbye, Marcus.”
It was done. They were done.
He walked away without a backward glance.
Chapter Fourteen
Phaedra was stillplastered in the same spot ten minutes after Deerhurst left, heart pounding wildly. There was no doubt Deerhurst excelled at sweeping her off her feet, and it was for the best that they had ended whatever had developed between them since the moment they met.
Deerhurst didn’t want a wife.
She wanted cats.
Cats were safe. Cats didn’t sweep a woman into a magical fairytale dream. Cats can’t walk away after a woman entrusts her heart to them. Cats could be trusted.
Phaedra wasn’t certain her heart would survive it if he were to walk away after she had completely fallen for him. Luckily, that hadn’t happened.
She cared for him—Deerhurst—greatly. But that wasn’t love.
Fortunately, not.
She placed a hand over her heart, pressed into the uncomfortable spot there. Not being able to stand the pressure, Phaedra flung herself from the wall and rushed through the halls until she burst through the doors that led to the garden.
She inhaled a deep breath and looked toward his estate, her heart in a frenzy.
They weren’t allowing any callers at present. And Phaedra would avoid balls for the time being. Perhaps they could even retire to the country a bit earlier this year. Whatever these wagers were, they couldn’t stand forever.
Soft, girlish laughter drew her entire focus to Deerhurst’s house. Her brows drew together as she padded over to the gate that connected the properties.
Should she?
Dareshe?
Better not, she told herself and started to turn away when the laughter rang through the air again. Soft. Melodious. Impossible to ignore. Before she could give it any thought, she was through the gate and following the sound as though it had woven a spell on her limbs, powerless to stop the pull.
And then she saw her.
A little girl in a blue dress, much the same color she wore today, a doll in her hand, and dancing on the grass patch of the earl’s garden.
The girl smiled when she spotted Phaedra.
She stopped twirling. “Are you the lady that lives next door?” the little girl asked.
“Ah, yes, I am. Who are you?”
“I’m Abigail.”
“Hello, Abigail,” Phaedra said uncertainly. She glanced around. “Are your parents here?”
“Papa is inside.”
Deerhurst must have family visiting.
Phaedra shifted awkwardly on her feet. She didn’t want the earl to catch her after she’d just ended their fake courtship. How embarrassing. However, in the end, curiosity won and propelled her to ask, “What are you doing?”
“I’m dancing with Miss Trumpet.”
