Page 19 of The Misfortunate Miss Farthington
That voice grew louder as her father gave him another kind, regretful smile, as if he knew precisely what effect his words had on Richard.
They’d planted a seed of doubt, and now…
Now Richard wasn’t sure he could shake it.
7
Eavesdropping in the hallway was the height of immaturity, and Tessa well knew it.
She’d even said as much to her cousin when she’d called her over to join her at the door. But the temptation had been too great, and when she’d heard Richard’s voice, she’d been helpless to resist, pressing her cheek to the oak door like a child. But even so, she’d had difficulty hearing over the loud thrum of her heart and the sound of blood rushing past her ears.
Her future and her fate all seemed to rest on this one interview between two men she loved.
And yes, she could admit to herself that this sensation was love. She’d watched too many of her friends—not to mention her former fiancé–suffer from this very same malady. She’d started to believe perhaps she was impervious to such strength of emotion.
But one look in his eyes that night in Hyde Park when he’d gazed down at her like she was the most cherished treasure he could imagine, and she’d felt her heart give up the fight. She might as well have handed it over to him right then and there.
You have my heart in your hands, you know.
She swallowed hard. The feeling was mutual.
“Come!” Daphne hissed as she gripped Tessa’s arm and tugged, sending them down the hall and into the drawing room just as Tessa heard her father’s study door open.
“I trust you’ll take my words into consideration,” her father said, his tone so sober it made Tessa’s skin prickle with nerves.
She shared a worried look with Daphne. Even her sweet, normally smiling cousin seemed perturbed by her father’s somber mood.
Hardly the voice of someone who’d just given his hearty felicitations to a would-be suitor.
A second later, her burgeoning anxiety burst into fruition when Richard appeared in the doorway, his hat in hand and his demeanor…well, not dejected, necessarily. But serious.
Far too serious for her liking.
His furrowed brow seemed to exacerbate the lines around his eyes, but it was the look in his eyes that made her aware for the first time of the decade that separated them in age. “Miss Farthington,” he said as he stepped into the room. He nodded to Daphne as well. “Lady Daphne.”
Daphne looked from Tessa to Mr. Grant and then back to Tessa again. “Oh would you look at that,” she murmured, glancing over at the windows, where the curtains were still drawn shut. “It looks as though it might rain.”
With that, Daphne wandered over to the far wall and peered out the windows as if the fate of the world depended on the current weather conditions.
Which left Tessa alone with Richard…for the most part.
“Well?” she asked, nervousness making her voice high and tight.
She hated the way he paused.
“Your father is not exactly supportive of my courting you,” he said slowly.
Her lips pinched tight. This was not a surprise, but it still stung.
“It seems he’d prefer to hold out for…better.” He said it so warily, her insides twisted.
She wished he’d said it in anger. In frustration. But the fact was, he sounded very much like…like he might agree.
She swallowed past a lump in her throat and forced a calm tone. “Better,” she repeated mildly.
“Yes. Better prospects. A better position in society…”
The Earl of Yardley, that was what her father meant. The dratted earl! She curled her hands into fists at her sides. She’d never even met the man, but she’d come to despise his very name. It wasn’t his fault, she knew, but still…
