“Your aunt wishes me to visit only a fortnight. I shall return before the Christmas ball.” Widow De Clare pecked Josephine’s cheek, then followed the butler out the front door.
“Take care of your future mother-in-law.” Mr. Darling gave Sebastian a firm handshake.
“Yes, yes, I’ll ensure she reaches her destination.” Sebastian flitted about like a bird anxious to leave his cage. He strode toward Elias, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, old chap. Pray I return with good stories.”
“Don’t make a fool of yourself,” Elias said. “Consider your fiancée—”
“Entertain her, would you? I mean, you’ve done such a great job. She hasn’t bothered me one bit.” Sebastian smacked Elias’s shoulder and winked. “I owe you a night at the pub.”
“Please, no.”
“Fine. I owe you a stack of books or a new tailcoat—or buckskins for your next roll down a hill.” Sebastian tipped his hat. “Until next time.”
Once the carriage set off, Miss Karel led the children to their schoolroom. Mr. and Mrs. Darling headed toward their private sitting chambers, Mrs. Capers dashed to her tarts, and the staff resumed their duties. Within a matter of seconds, the hall emptied, leaving Josephine and Elias alone on the checkered floor.
Elias cleared his throat. “My cousin travels south at least twice a year.”
“I’m not daft. I know what Sebastian intends to do in London,” Josephine said. Her expression hardened until it resembled stone. “You must wonder—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Elias clasped his hands behind his back. He stood across from her as if ready for a dance. “It’s not my business to make assumptions.”
“But you do. We all do.” She tiptoed forward, each step clapping her soles against marble. She tilted back her head and gazed at Elias’s face, her neck so exposed, he ached to slide his thumb along its ridges. “When my father died, he left us with his debt. Mother and I sold our lands to pay the sum, but it wasn’t enough.”
“Josephine . . .” Elias squirmed. Her financial circumstance was not his business, at least not yet. He planned to petition Mr. Darling once Sebastian returned. Then he would know for certain whether he and Josephine stood a chance at togetherness.
“The Darlings own my family home,” she said. “They acquired it after Father’s death.”
“What, you’ll wed Sebastian for a house?” Elias clenched his fists and scanned the hall’s faded paintings. A chill infiltrated his bones. An empty cold that stripped him of Josephine’s warmth. No, he couldn’t stand idle and let her marry Sebastian to salvage her father’s assets.
“I’m destitute. I have my good birth, that is all,” Josephine whispered. “If I marry into the family, Mr. Darling will allow Mother to live in the town home that was once my father’s.” Elias grabbed her shoulders, his arms shaking. “Let me help. I’ll purchase the estate from my uncle. You can have it back—”
“I need more than a house.” Her voice cracked, letting the truth shine through. She had agreed to marry Sebastian for the security and station he’d provide. A penniless woman, even one of noble birth, would struggle to find a gentleman husband. And society thumbed its nose at poor spinsters, for those who were alone reminded everyone else of their loneliness.
“What do you require? Tell me, and it’s yours.” Elias crouched to her level and breathed in her perfume, a spellbinding aroma of rose, bergamot, and pear. He waited for her response. He stared at her mouth, hoping and praying she’d ask him to propose. He could give her wealth and title, return the De Clare home. And she loved him. He was sure of it.
“People like us . . . We cannot afford to be romantic,” Josephine said. She touched his wrists and mustered a smile, her pert nose reddening. The silence that followed suggested she knew his intentions. She knew, yet she did not accept them. She gave a nod, perhaps to both commend his efforts and call them pointless.
Elias stepped backward. He blinked to blur the realization, but it did not stand before him, dressed in another man’s clothes. No, it stood within his shoes.
He was to blame for his and Josephine’s separation.
“The Darlings wish Sebastian to avoid further scandal by settling down,” Josephine whispered. “They do not care about my lack of wealth. I have a respectable pedigree, so as far as they’re concerned, I am a suitable match. I’m grateful, really. Few gentlemen would deign to marry a woman of little means, for society promotes constant betterment.”
A breath jerked Elias’s chest. He turned his face so Josephine wouldn’t see his pain. Of course she was right. Most families desired their children to rise in station through matrimony.
Lord Welby was one of those families.
“Sebastian will not break our engagement. His parents offered him an increased allowance for marrying me. Isn’t that flattering?” Josephine wiped her eyes. “I shall marry him, and you’ll find someone who pleases your father. We must do what’s expected of us.”
Elias shook his head, a mixture of disappointment and grief coursing through him. He had believed the engagement divided him from Josephine, but it was his need to earn Lord Welby’s approval. Him. He was the obstacle. And he couldn’t rise above himself.
Josephine moved toward the staircase. She paused beneath the chandelier and glanced over her shoulder. “Please do not pity me, Elias. A loveless marriage is far better than poverty.”
“But what is living without love?” He loathed himself for asking the question. It seemed flowery and insincere, unlike a man’s thoughts.
Josephine held his gaze, her figure slight compared to the grand room. “Love must reside in your
