Page 73 of The Gentleman Was Right
A footman held a large umbrella aloft, and Isabelle quickly shuffled underneath it to avoid getting soaked by the heavy rain. Violet probably could have crowded under the umbrella with her, but it was easier for the footman to escort one person to the door than two, so she waved him away and waited patiently for him to return.
Once he was back, she reached for his outstretched hand and smoothly slipped out of the carriage. Because of the rain and the shadow cast by the umbrella, it took her a second to realize she wasn’t alone. Her heart swelled with anticipation when she registered the shiny boots standing opposite her. What better place to tell Edward she had been wrong than under an umbrella in the rain?
She raised her gaze and came face-to-face with…her former betrothed.
“Basil.” She blinked and then blinked again, but the grinning man before her did not vanish. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, more than a little off-balance at his sudden appearance.
“I wanted to assure myself that you were well,” he responded evenly, tipping his hat so his inscrutable gaze could dart up and down. Whatever he saw had him shaking his head slightly as he returned his attention to her face.
“I’m quite well,” she said. “But I feel as if I ought to remind you that I am no longer your responsibility, and I do not require you to check up on me.”
He nodded but didn’t seem convinced. “Perhaps you could invite me in for tea, and we could have a little chat?”
“Absolutely not.” She had no interest in socializing. Nor engaging in small talk. The only thing she wanted was for Basil to leave her alone.
“Ah. You’re still angry.” He pursed his lips. “A walk then?”
Not waiting for a response, he turned slightly and shooed the footman away, taking the umbrella himself. Before he could attempt to usher her down the street, she snatched it from his grasp and tried to skirt around him, but he shifted to block her from approaching the house.
“Violet, please,” he murmured quietly. “Just allow me a couple of minutes to ease my mind and my conscience.”
“I have no obligation to ease either your mind or your conscience.” His nerve continued to astound her. Why must he intrude now? Why wouldn’t he leave her alone?
“I know. But your father?—”
She sighed. “Fine.” It was easier to agree than to argue, and his loyalty to her father was genuine, even if nothing else about him was. “We can walk down the street and back, but you better assuage your guilt quickly, because once we return, I’m going inside.”
“Thank you.” He fell into step next to her as they made their way down the wet sidewalk. Thankfully, he didn’t try to take the umbrella away from her. Nor did he crowd into her space.
“Well,” she prompted, after they’d taken several steps.
“I wanted to apologize?—”
“I do not accept your apology,” she interjected, but he was not thwarted by the interruption. Or the rejection.
“—for lying to you.”
She gritted her teeth. “I don’t care that you love someone else. Not anymore.”
“Oh.” His gaze flicked away. “That isn’t what I was referring to.”
“You lied to me about something other than where your affection lies?”
“I know you don’t believe me, but I wasn’t lying about my feelings for you. And I didn’t lie about my feelings for her either.” He winced. “I suppose it doesn’t matter any longer, but I was referring to your inheritance. It was wrong of me to use it to manipulate you, and I’ve felt awful about it since you told me you married another man.”
“Manipulate me?” she asked slowly, her indignation about his paramour temporarily forgotten.
“Your wealth would have made you a target, but if I’d known you would marry someone else just to escape me, I would have told you the truth.” He paused, hunching his shoulders a bit. “Ishouldhave told you the truth anyway. The means donotjustify the end, and I’ll never forgive myself if—is your husband mistreating you?”
“Of course not,” she mumbled, as she tried to comprehend what exactly Basil had lied about in relation to her inheritance. The money her father had left was substantial, and it was intact. “I’m afraid I’m confused.”
“The money was already yours,” he whispered, barely louder than the rain. “You didn’t have to marry to access the funds, and I’ll never forgive myself for lying about it. If you’re being mistreated, I don’t know what I’ll do, but somehow, I’ll figure out a way to protect you.”
Clarity came, and with it, a burst of anger. “I didn’t have to marry?”
“I’m quite sorry.”
She didn’thaveto marry.
