just the first.”
She shook her head but knew he was right.
“You are alone and unprotected here. Let me help you.”
“Why?”
“Because I owe Freddie. His last thoughts were of you. His last words were a plea for me to take care of you.”
“And you feel obligated?” When he didn’t answer, she turned away from him and looked out the window. She saw nothing but Freddie’s handsome face staring back at her in the glass panes. “You are not obligated to do anything, Mr. Blackmoor. You can go away from here with a free conscience. I will not accept anything from you.”
“If you want to do what’s best for your sister, you will.”
A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. She searched for an answer, but there wasn’t one—at least, not one she thought she could live with.
Nor was she able to look into Blackmoor’s face when she spoke. “When they brought Freddie’s body home, I tried to hate you. When I heard a robber had killed Freddie, but you had lived, I asked myself, why? Why would God take Freddie from us when we need him so desperately, and spare you?”
“Did you come up with an answer?”
“No. Except that there is a reason for everything, and some of the answers God keeps only to Himself.”
He smiled—the first smile she’d seen on his face. “I doubt God had a hand in any of this, my lady. I doubt God has noticed my existence for a long time. As I have not noticed His.”
She looked at him and could not help but wonder what had happened to make him so bitter. Perhaps she was better off not knowing.
“I don’t want to marry like this,” she said with all the conviction she felt deep in her soul.
“I know.”
“Do you see any other way for me to provide for Becca? Any way at all?”
“One. You could put Lady Rebecca in your place, put her on the marriage mart. Even though she is just fifteen, I am sure you could find some wealthy nobleman whose preference runs toward the very young. Then you would be spared the trials of taking a husband, and could live off your sister’s generosity for the rest of your life. From what I remember, Lady Rebecca shows promise of becoming quite a beauty. It would be easy for her to make a wealthy match.”
The air caught in Anne’s throat and she took a step backward in shock. He smiled again, a thin forced smile she did not want to look at.
“I didn’t think so.” He paced the room as if the four walls were suddenly too confining.
She clenched her hands until they hurt. “What is your plan, sir?”
He stopped. “As you know, my brother is the Earl of Covington. Being neighbors, he also considered Freddie a friend, and has agreed to help you. He and his wife have extended an invitation for you to be a guest at their London town house. They have agreed to introduce you to Society. You have until the middle of June, until the Queen’s birthday celebration, to make your choice. Then my brotherand his wife plan to leave for the summer months and go to the country.”
“But that is barely three months away.”
“Do you see that as a problem? I would think three months more than ample time to find a suitable husband who meets your qualifications. Unless, of course, one of those qualifications happens to be love.”
She swallowed hard and fought the painful pressure against her chest. “No, Mr. Blackmoor. I would never be foolish enough to make love a qualification. The only suitable husband would be one who makes no demands of me, does not notice or care if I am in attendance, and is wealthy enough to provide Becca a handsome enough dowry so she can afford the luxury of choosing a husband she imagines she can love.”
“As you wish. I’m certain there is someone out there who will fit your order to perfection.”
She closed her eyes and fought the sinking dread already swelling inside her.
“How soon can you be ready to leave?”
“Becca leaves for school tomorrow. She has missed enough of the term already.” She
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