Page 115 of Saving Miss Pratt

Aware that her mother had stopped speaking and was staring at her, Priscilla forced a smile. “Thank you, Mama, for telling me everything.”

“Not at all, dear. I’ll send Mr. Netherborne home and tell him you need your rest before tomorrow. After our talk, it might prove too embarrassing to be in his company.” She rose from her seat. “I’ll have cook send up some chamomile tea to help soothe you.”

“Thank you, Mama.” And for once, Priscilla meant it, truly grateful for the small kindness of not having to deal with Mr. Netherborne.

Once alone, Priscilla’s hand involuntarily slid to her abdomen. Could she be?

The idea filled her with both panic and joy.

And relief that at least she would become a married woman before anyone was the wiser.

* * *

Timothy staredin horror at Lady Honoria’s determined face. “I beg your pardon? Would you repeat that?”

“I will not marry you, Dr. Marbry.”

“But your father has agreed. He’s given us his blessing. I don’t understand.”

“My father and I have yet to agree about whom I should marry. He’s never taken my wishes into consideration.”

Honoria’s face softened, and she took his hand. “Don’t misunderstand me, sir. I have the utmost fondness for you. And for that reason, I feel I must speak my mind and release you from your pursuit of a union with me. You don’t love me. You love Miss Pratt.”

When the bullet that changed Timothy’s belief in love had struck him in the shoulder, it had effectively knocked the air from his lungs. With less deadly consequences, thank goodness, Honoria’s words carried the same impact.

“Bu-bu-but.” Timothy blubbered like a child trying to explain themselves after having been caught pilfering freshly baked biscuits. He wanted to protest, but found he could not. The truth of Honoria’s statement would not allow such a falsity to fall from his lips. He’d tried to shove it down, keep it contained. Had he failed so miserably it became obvious to everyone but him?

As if reading his mind, Honoria continued. “It’s true whether you will admit it to yourself or not. I’ve seen it when you look at her. The longing, the affection. I know it well. Not to mention when you see her with Lord Nash, or any other gentleman who shows interest, the anger passing across your face belies your protestations of indifference.”

“You’re suggesting I’m jealous of Nash?” He choked out the words, knowing as he did so they were the truth.

A knowing smile curled Honoria’s lips. “It is you who have said so. Perhaps not in so many words, but every fault you’ve found in each suitor she’s had gives testament to it. And they do say actions speak louder than words.”

“But she’s getting married—today.If I interrupt her wedding, I’ll sully her reputation further.”

In a display unexpected from a lady of her class, Honoria gave a magnificent eye roll. “Have you ever listened to what I’ve said? Perhaps, Dr. Marbry, she no longer cares. Consider what matters most.”

She squeezed his hand. “As I said, I do care for you, but my feelings are as one would have for a dear brother. And at least one of us should have the chance at happiness. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He expected regret or sadness to show in her eyes. But instead, he saw strength and relief. “I’m not worthy of you, Lady Honoria.”

She gave a little laugh and brushed his compliment aside. “Pish-tosh. Now, I suggest you stop nattering and go stop that wedding. St. George’s in Hanover—go now!”

Like a man possessed, he grabbed Honoria by the shoulders, and kissed her full on the mouth. A gasp arose from her maid, standing in the corner of the room. He pulled back, noting the shock on Honoria’s face. She laughed and placed two fingers on her lips. “As I said, like a brother.”

It was true. Kissing her was like kissing Bea, although admittedly, he’d never kissed Bea on the mouth. However, it was the same sensation. It would appear Lady Honoria had saved them both from a rather disconcerting relationship.

Without another word, he raced off, hoping to make it to the church in time to stop Priscilla from making the biggest mistake of her life.

And of his.

* * *

“Is it much farther?”Priscilla asked, her voice shaking. The journey to St. George’s seemed endless.

Her father smiled from across the carriage seat. Thank goodness Victor had taken their mother ahead in a different carriage. “Anxious? Or is something else bothering you, my dear?”

Definitely the something else. Why on earth had she agreed to marry Mr. Netherborne and be relegated to the country, boring sermons, and sheep for the rest of her days?

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