Page 8 of An Earl's Scandalous Return
“Ah, you’ll get used to it, I’m sure.” Farthing winked. “So, any tales of romance on the Continent, Jameson? You always used to be a rake here, so I figured Europe was exactly where to continue your rakish ways.”
Edward looked into his glass, annoyed he’d picked champagne, and he licked his lips. There had been no other woman since Arabella, no woman to capture his eye, heart, or body. He’d been unable to, despite his anger, let her go.
“No, I’m afraid I was rather saintly in my time away. Travelling adventures, books, and the like.”
“Ah, I see.” Farthing sighed, no doubt wishing for some scandal to lighten his evening.
“But something I did do that I should like to do yet again in England is a round of cards. What say you, Farthing?” Edward tried to smile, but he wasn’t sure if he was doing it very well.
“Yes, thank God. To the card room, we shall go.” Edward patted the baron’s back as they left the ballroom, and he did not look back.
***
Alvin’s smile was a concerned one. He was always happy to see his beloved, but as Jacinda pulled him into an alcove near the conservatory, her face still pale, he wasn’t sure this was a good meeting. The sounds of the guests had faded, and they were on their own. Normally, he would not have minded, but for some reason, he had a dark feeling that this boded ill.
“Jacinda, are you well? Perhaps you ought to go home and rest.” He patted her shoulders, but she stepped away from him and leaned against the far wall, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry, Alvin, but I …”
He waited with bated breath, never having seen Jacinda look so worried before. “You can tell me anything, my love. Truly. What is upsetting you?”
Her lower lip trembled, and she cast her eyes down as she spoke. “I cannot marry you, Alvin. The engagement is off.”
“What?” he asked, his breath ragged as his heart sank to the floor. “Why?”
She shook her head again. “I cannot say. But I cannot marry you. My father forbids it.”
Alvin wanted to lean against the wall, too; he was beginning to feel dizzy. “You cannot be serious, Jacinda. We are so happy together, so looking forward to the marriage.”
A tear slipped down her cheek as she looked up at him.
“What’s changed?” he begged. “Please, I must know. I thought you loved me.”
“I—” she began but then closed her lips.
Alvin was hurt and angry, and his fists clenched at his sides. “Surely, I deserve an explanation if the woman I love, whom I thought loved me, is throwing me off without warning.”
She swallowed, and then she dug in her sleeve and pulled out a thin, folded paper. “Here, Alvin. Read this. It will tell you everything. My father received it, which is why we cannot wed.”
Alvin’s eyes clung to it for a moment before he took it, and then she passed him her ring as well and ran off, covering her mouth with her hand as a tiny sob squeaked out. Alvin watched her go, and then, with a furrowed brow, he unfolded the paper. He read quickly, horror gripping him with each word.
He swore under his breath and crushed the paper in his fist, turning out of the alcove to head straight to the conservatory. Lord and Lady Helmouth’s son was a good friend from university, so he knew where the Scotch was.
He opened the cabinet and poured himself a generous glass. As he took his first sip, he tucked the ring into his waistcoat pocket. He unclenched his fist and read the letter yet again. It was strange. One piece of paper had ruined the course of his entire life.
Chapter 9
Arabella could barely see by the time she arrived home, having told the carriage to return for her brother with a note claiming she left for a headache. But as she crossed the threshold to her house, the surprised butler took her things, and tears hung heavy in her eyes.
It wasn’t until she reached her private sitting room and shut the door that she allowed them to fall. They came hot, hard, and fast, running down her cheeks in what felt like an unending stream.
Edward was back home in England. He had been there, right in front of her eyes. She knew then that was why he had returned to her mind with a fervour for the past few days. And that night, as he’d taken a step towards her, she’d run away like a scared fool.
What must he think of me now?
For she was certain that he hated her. Even though the gaze he’d shown her across the room was heated, she didn’t think it was anger, necessarily. She wiped her eyes desperately and pushed off from the door to the small wooden cabinet in the corner of the room.
It was there she kept her wine, sherry, and brandy. It was rather indecorous for a young woman, but Alvin thought she should have every comfort in her sitting room. It would remain hers after he and Jacinda married.
