Did Cami have the strength to face the story’s inevitably tragic end?
She picked up her pen, but before she could dip it into the ink, there was a soft rap at the door. Hurriedly, she stuffed the few loose sheets of paper into the drawer atop the ribbon and closed the lid to her writing desk. Who could be knocking at this hour?
“Yes?”
“May I come in, Cousin?” Though muffled by the thick oak panel, Felicity’s voice betrayed her exhaustion.
Cami rose and opened the door. Even by the light of the single candle, Cami could see that Felicity’s eyes were still rimmed with red. “Are you all right?”
“I shall be, if a certain gentleman will find the courage to defy his uncle and come to the point.”
Cami did not think it was courage Lord Ashborough lacked. “The, uh, the uncle who served as his guardian?”
“No. That was his mother’s brother. The gentleman we met this evening is his father’s. Mama says he disapproves most strenuously of the reputation his nephew has acquired and has been quite public with his protestations.”
“That is unfortunate,” Cami said. Though perhaps understandable. “Still, has he any particular claim to authority over…?”
Felicity bristled. “Lord Ash may do as he pleases, of course, with or without Lord Sebastian Finch’s consent. So it cannot be for that reason he refuses to propose.”
“Refuses?” Cami cursed the spark of something very like hope that flickered to life inside her. No. No. He was not free. And she ought not to want him, even if he were. “I thought all had been arranged?”
“There has been no offer, no announcement of our betrothal. But our names are already linked. You heard them tonight. The gossip is on everyone’s tongue.” Lowering her gaze, she began to twist her fingers in her skirt. “I begin to fear he has set out to punish our family further by humiliating me.”
Cami recalled Lady Penhurst’s smirk. If Lord Ashborough did not propose marriage soon, Felicity would be an object of derision among the ton, perhaps even unmarriageable, depending on the quantity of venom in those wagging tongues.
“But I thought you did not wish to marry Lord Ashborough?”
“Well, I—I don’t,” Felicity admitted, flustered. “It would be misery.”
“Misery? Surely not.” Cami spoke, as she so often did, before she thought how it would sound. Rather, she had been thinking of his kiss. Felicity’s eyes flared with surprise at her denial. “Unless there is another to whom your heart belongs,” Cami added hastily. Although they were alone, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I have thought, perhaps, that you and Mr. Fox…”
Now, Felicity fixed her with eyes that burned. “Do not speak of it. Only Lord Ash can save my family. I would be an utter fool to think of anyone else.”
Cami reached out and took her cousin’s icy hands in hers. “Oh, Felicity, I am sorry. But I do believe he is an honorable man….” A soft scoffing noise scraped the back of Felicity’s throat. It was a rather ridiculous claim to make; Lord Ash was a rogue, a rake, a murderer. And if her guess was right, his uncle intended to accuse of him of yet another terrible crime. A man of honor? What a laughable notion. Except that she felt the truth of those words in her very core.
Unless the hard, hot ache behind her breastbone was merely her deep desire that those words were true?
“He will keep his promise to your father, and to you,” she said. His promise to me.
Although marrying Felicity was not quite what she had asked of him.
Through sheer dint of will, Cami had kept her voice even, her expression calm, her posture relaxed as she spoke. If the riot inside her stomach, her brain, her heart was revealed anywhere, it could only be in her eyes. Thank God, her spectacles had always provided some shield when others sought to pry.
Not enough, though. Not this time. Felicity was studying her, precisely in the way Cami often took the liberty of studying everyone else. And she saw…something. Something that made her brows, her lips, her fingertips twitch. But whatever it was she had imagined she glimpsed, she did not speak of it.
Instead, she freed herself from Cami’s hands and stepped back across the threshold. “I should leave you to your rest, Cousin. Mama is likely to be a bear in the morning.” Cami nodded her understanding of the warning and closed the door behind Felicity as she left.
Ought she to have confessed what she had done? Confession was good for the soul, it was said. But not as good, perhaps, for Felicity, who would rightfully feel betrayed. Cami had set out with the intention of protecting her. Oh, where had it all gone wrong?
Her eyes darted about the room as if seeking an answer and settled at last on her worktable.
With the book.
She had let herself be drawn to a flesh and blood man merely through the power of her own pen. She pulled the closing pages of the manuscript from the drawer with trembling fingers.
She could fix this. She must.
Chapter 10
As he walked back to St. James’s, Gabriel found himself wishing for more seasonable weather. Cold, damp. The sort of air that would cool a man’s ardor in half a moment, or at least half a mile. Instead, the balmy warmth encouraged his thoughts to persist in untoward directions.
After a while, he gave up and let himself think of her. Of Camellia. Dark hair spilling from a band of poppy-red ribbon. Another flash of color,
