Page 86 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
As tears rose in her eyes, she realized she’d said too much. Squelching them as best she could, she struggled to speak calmly. “It doesn’t matter. I have to do this, and I can’t have Oliver interfering. This is between me and Nathan.”
“Are you coming back?”
“There’s no reason for me to do so. Your grandmother clearly won’t back down, so Oliver’s plan didn’t work. And I can’t . . . I mustn’t . . .” Her long night and the bad news caught up with her, and her tears spilled down her cheeks.
Minerva looked stricken. “Oh, dear heart, I don’t give a fig about Oliver’s plan. I care aboutyou. What’s wrong? What has happened?”
Maria dashed her tears away. “Nothing that I can’t handle.”
“Did Oliver do something he shouldn’t have?” Minerva asked fiercely. “Because if he did, I swear—”
“No, nothing like that,” she lied. “Please, I must go. It’s urgent.”
Minerva nodded. “Very well. Then I’ll help you.”
“How?”
“For one thing, I can pack a trunk faster than anyone I know.”
“Thank you,” Maria breathed. “But what would help me more is if you could help Freddy. He takes forever to pack, and is always forgetting things.”
Maria was relieved when Minerva said, “Done,” and headed for Freddy’s room. If Minerva stayed too close Maria would be tempted to tell her everything, and that would just create a worse mess.
Fortunately, Betty was still tidying up Maria’s room. Though the maid did her best to wheedle out of her where she was going and why, Maria remained silent. They’d finished packing one trunk and were nearly done with the second, when a knock came at the door. Thinking it must be Minerva, Maria opened it.
And there stood Mrs. Plumtree.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maria watched as Mrs. Plumtree bustled past her into the room, then surveyed the open trunks. “The servants tell me you are going on a journey.”
Maria couldn’t stifle her groan. She’d hoped to escape without having to deal with Oliver’s grandmother. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Pinter has found . . . er . . . Freddy’s brother, so we’re off to fetch him.”
Mrs. Plumtree fixed her with a dark glance. “Then why are you packing all of your clothes?”
Actually, she wasn’t packing them all. She’d had Betty box up everything Oliver had bought, and she was taking only the ones she’d traded her mourning gowns for. But she couldn’t exactly tell the woman that.
Casting Betty a sharp look, Mrs. Plumtree said, “Leave us, if you please.”
With a quick curtsy, Betty fled.
“Mrs. Plumtree, I don’t think—” Maria began.
“Let us put our cards on the table, shall we?” the woman said. “I know Oliver has been up to some scheme, which you allowed for your own reasons.”
“And which you allowed foryourown reasons,” Maria accused.
“True.” Mrs. Plumtree cast her a rueful smile. “I am afraid I played a role with you that first night. I had to be sure, you see, that you did not mean to take advantage of him.”
“Take advantage ofhim?” she said bitterly. “What about his taking advantage of me?”
“Is that what he did?” the woman asked, a hint of alarm in her voice. “Is that why you are running away?”
Maria sighed. “No.” How could it be taking advantage when she’d thrown herself into their lovemaking like a wanton?
Mrs. Plumtree searched her face. “Beneath all his reckless remarks, he is a good man. And he genuinely wants to marry you—after last night at the ball I am certain of that much. So accept his offer, for God’s sake. And give me great-grandchildren. That is all I want.”
“And what about whatIwant?”
