Page 32 of A Brilliant Match
She could delay her response no longer, but she was no closer to knowing what to do.
“I am most obliged for your offer, my lord.” She moistened her lips. “Would you grant me some time to think over my answer?”
“Ah.” Lord Hastings looked away for a moment before bringing his eyes back to her. “I had been hoping that you would know your heart by now. I have plans to return to my estate at the earliest opportunity. I have already put it off.”
“I am sincerely sorry to cause you to put off your visit. I…I will have an answer for you by next week. I appreciate your understanding.”
“Well.” Lord Hastings stood. “Of course you must have time to be sure of your decision. I will call upon you Thursday next. If you arrive at a decision before then, be so good as to put me out of my suspense, I beg of you.”
She curtsied and thanked him, allowing him to leave the drawing room on his own. Turton would see to him. Then she sat down and breathed out.
Her mother would want to know what had happened—would expect that she was now a betrothed woman. Dorothea would have to face her siblings and possibly wait until this evening to have a few moments of peace in the quiet of her chamber. Until then there would be no time to sort through her feelings about having entertained two proposals on the same day, one of which she surely must accept and was yet strangely glad to have put off the inevitable—and another she did well to refuse and could not help but regret she did not accept.
She collected her gloves and bonnet and walked slowly toward the door, listening on the other side of it. The sounds had quieted upstairs, and she deemed it safe to leave the drawing room. Perhaps she might just find solace in her room without needing to wait until evening.
Chapter13
Miles had paced the floors of his room enough to wear down the wood. He knew his priority must be seeing his mother safely settled with family. He could not consign her to living next to a dripping basin. Besides, what was to say the ceiling above her would even hold? The house was centuries old. He knew this was where his attention should lie, but he could only focus on the dull pain in his chest that came from dwelling on Dorothea’s rejection.
It was supposed to have been a proposal to save his estate. He should easily be able to move on and woo another woman with a fortune at her disposal. But the mysterious workings of his heart had caught onto Dorothea and could not be transferred to someone else. How could she be so shallow as to wish for an advantageous match rather than one based on affection? She felt the current of attraction between them as much as he—he knew she did. She was denying her own feelings just so she could marry some gentleman of consequence.
And yet, you were trying to marry her for wealth.
Grimacing, Miles sat at last and looked at the plate of cold pork chops that had not been cleared from his table. He should call a servant to do it. Now, with the money he must send to Fripley for the most urgent matters, he was beginning to wonder if he would even be able to pay his shot.
He needed to speak to Albert, needed to write to his mother. Rock had sent a note around asking if he had been successful in his endeavor, and Miles hadn’t been ready to respond. He would need to talk to his cousin eventually. And he would have to work up the courage to begin a new courtship with some woman he didn’t care about.
He leaned his head on his hand and stared at the fire in moody silence. Today had been warm enough that the fire hadn’t seemed as necessary. Soon it would be spring in earnest. It was a shame that feelings for another woman couldn’t pop up like new buds in a thawing earth.
A knock came on the door.
“Enter,” Miles called out, suspecting that it would be his cousin and was therefore unsurprised when the man walked through the door.
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
Miles shrugged, not bothering to defend himself.
Rock came in and set his hat and cane on the side table, then tugged off his gloves.
“Brooding never solved anything.”
“No. That requires money,” Miles answered bitterly.
“Turned you down, did she?” Rock asked in sympathy and sat across from him. He looked at the nearly full decanter of brandy at his side and poured himself a glass. “At least you’re not drowning your sorrows.”
“Can’t afford to,” Miles grumbled.
Rock raised an eyebrow, and Miles knew he was taking his disappointment too far. It was badtonto be overly gloomy. But what his cousin didn’t understand was that it wasn’t really about his money troubles. Not entirely, for he had always struggled to keep his ancestral estate afloat. That was nothing new.
This was about Dorothea. She had essentially told him there was no hope she would ever reconsider his proposal. He hadn’t realized how much he had begun to imagine himself married to her until he’d asked and was turned down. She was the first woman he had ever met who wasn’t waiting to be led for every small decision. If something needed to be done, she did it herself. Their conversations had revealed as much. For him, the necessity of being the strong one in his family had become natural, but how nice it would have been to have someone at his side who was capable. Someone who would be a partner.
It was this loss that disappointed him as much as the desire he attempted in vain to suppress, that of sweeping her into his arms and kissing her senseless.
“She turned me down,” Miles confirmed at last.
“If it’s your estate you’re worrying about, you know I’m good for whatever you need. We’re family.” Rock sipped his drink, keeping his eyes on him.
Miles shook his head. “You know I couldn’t take it. I need to go and talk to Albert about taking in my mother, however. I will practically have to beg the man.” He rubbed his face in his hands. “It shouldn’t be so difficult for him to wish to care for his own wife’s mother.”
