“You didn’t come just to say hello, did you?” he asked.
Albert snorted.
“How did you know?” he asked.
Neil glanced at the clock on the opposite wall, which was just about to chime ten o’clock.
“Call it a lucky guess,” he said.
Albert nodded.
“Fair enough,” he said with a soft chuckle. “You guessed correctly. I’m sorry to impose. I just didn’t know where else to go.”
Neil frowned, patting Albert on the back.
“Your visits are never an imposition,” he said. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”
Albert nodded, explaining the situation with his father and Miss Elwood in record time. Neil grimaced as he spoke, shaking his head as he sipped his drink.
“Well, that is a predicament, indeed,” he said. “I don’t need to ask whether you wish to marry this young woman.”
Albert snickered and shook his head.
“I knew you’d understand,” he said. “I need to try to convince her that this arranged marriage is a bad idea. It’s my only hope.”
Neil nodded, but his brow furrowed.
“Do you know that she doesn’t want this?” he asked.
Albert frowned. He hadn’t even spoken to his bride-to-be. After their introductions, she hadn’t even wanted to look at him. He couldn’t blame her, of course. But he would have thought that, if she did, she would have made more of an effort to interact with him.
“I’m fairly certain,” he said.
Neil nodded, but he looked unsure.
“This is a tricky situation, indeed,” he said. “You must be careful. You don’t want anyone to get hurt in all this.”
Albert nodded.
“That’s why I must convince her not to marry me,” he said.
Chapter Eight
Martha lay awake for well over an hour, not daring to open her eyes. She awoke with terrible nausea, and she feared that quick movement would cause her stomach to rebel against her. She whimpered silently, praying the spell would pass. She knew she would have to rise soon. She just wished more than anything that she wouldn’t have to.This is what I get for telling Isabel that I was unwell last night, when I wasn’t,she thought, filled with remorse for her lie.
After another half hour, there was faint knocking on the door.
“Come in,” she croaked, swallowing against another wave of nausea.
Through cracked eyelashes, she saw Lily entering the room. When the maid discovered her lying in bed that way, she rushed to her side.
“Oh, Miss Elwood, are you all right?” she asked.
Martha shook her head.
“I feel horribly ill,” she said. “My stomach is churning wildly.”
Lily touched her forehead, which she then realized was cold and clammy against the maid’s warm, dry hand.
