Page 48 of Holly & Folly

NELL

Nell’s stomach twisted into a hundred knots.

Lord Dalmeer wanted to know about the elopement.

Not just that it had happened. He wanted to know how it had happened. The details that Nell had told no one because they were too humiliating to relive.

What would he think of her if she told him? Would he find her as pathetic as she found herself?

That would be impossible. But he would think differently of her, and she hated that thought.

But perhaps that was precisely why she needed to tell him—to crush the seeds of hope that were trying to push up through the frozen ground of her history.

“We met in York.” She forced herself to begin before she could find an excuse not to. “We were introduced at a ball. We danced. And we danced again. I had never laughed so much.” She smiled slightly at the memory. “He called the next day. And the day after that. The next few weeks were a blur. I had never been courted before. Never been so admired. It was a heady feeling, and I succumbed quickly. His family did not wish for the match, but he did not care. He never wavered in his desire to be wed, and though deep down, I knew it was not right, he insisted eloping was the only option, for his parents would put a stop to it otherwise. Again, I succumbed. He was so…persuasive and charming that I hardly noticed myself agreeing to things I would not otherwise have.”

“Far too capable of leading you into folly.”

Nell glanced up at the earl, surprised to hear him repeat her words. She gave a wry smile. “Just so.” She took another breath before continuing. “He told me to meet him at an inn early one morning, where we would begin the journey to Scotland. I had hoped to take one of our horses, but Father was traveling, and our only remaining horse was limping, so I was obliged to walk nearly three hours. I left a note with my family.

“I should have known something was amiss when he arrived an hour late, for he was quiet—very much out of the ordinary for him. We made the first part of the journey and stopped for a change of horses, intending to travel through the night. He engaged a private parlor for dinner and said he would join me after seeing to the changing of the horses.”

She forced herself to take a slow, even breath and to say the words with no emotion. “He did not join me. I waited. And waited. The food went cold. The fire had to be stoked. I think I knew, for I waited far longer than I should have. I suppose I was afraid of hearing the truth. When I finally left the room and asked the innkeeper if he had seen Mr. Linton, I was given a note. An apology.” Her throat thickened, but she swallowed the emotion away. “I was obliged to put up at the inn for the night and walk home the next day.”

She tried to brush away the memory of the harrowing approach to her home, agonizing for three hours over what she would say to her family. “Two weeks later, there was a notice of his marriage to the young heiress his family had been trying to encourage him toward.”

It was quiet except for the wind, and Nell could not bring herself to look at the earl.

“And because of this coward,” he finally said, “you are determined either not to marry at all or to marry Mr. Tomlinson.”

A laugh escaped her. “You know very well I have no desire to marry Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Why ever not?” His eyes teased her, and the levity made her heart pang.

She had just recounted her most shameful moments, her most humiliating folly, but rather than looking at her with pity or disgust, his eyes sparkled with shared amusement, as though her imprudence was…nothing.

“For one thing,” she said, “he would never agree to such a match—thanks, in part, to your work the other day.”

“It was a joint effort, I think. But what if he would?”

She hesitated. Mr. Tomlinson was respectable. He had a living—and one not so very far from her own family home. If he were to make her an offer today, what would she say?

Her stomach swirled. “I should say yes.”

“Should,” the earl repeated.

She smiled ruefully, reaching for a hellebore bloom. “That is why I have no intention of marrying, my lord. My heart insists on marrying for affection, but my mind…”

“Is terrified by the thought.”

She searched his face as little snowflakes began to swirl in the air. “Yes.” She wanted to love and be loved, yet nothing frightened her more. She tried to infuse her voice with more peaceful acceptance than resignation. “So, until my heart accepts that practicality will suit me best, I shall continue as I am.” She offered him a smile.

His gaze was thoughtful until it flicked somewhere behind her. He began walking again, for their privacy was soon to be interrupted by other guests exploring the garden.

It remained quiet, and Nell began to regret her candidness. “I have bored you into silence.”

“Hardly. I was just remembering something you said when we met: I think we are quite different.”

She kept her eyes ahead, marveling at his ability to recall a passing comment from a stranger. “And now I have confirmed it.”