Page 54 of The Botanist’s Improper Bride

“Distributing a product that causes bodily harm could result in a legal case.” His tone was as bland as if they were discussing the cloudy sky overhead. “Of course, if you don’t agree to marry me, I can’t be certain that you won’t cause further harm, or even accidentally kill someone, so I may feel compelled to report your activities. Purely for the safety of others, you understand.”

She understood, all right. He was trying to blackmail her into marriage.

“Your concern for my standing in society is unexpected, and your solution is curiously framed.” The statement came out calmly even though inside, she was anything but. “But I’m marrying Lord Fitzgerald. The date is set, and arrangements have been made.”

He smirked. “The banns haven’t been read, and unless I’m mistaken, no invitations have been sent.”

Her jaw tightened. Blast Trevor and his determination not to rush the wedding. It was proving awfully inconvenient right now.

“But everyone knows we intend to wed.” She swallowed, her mouth dry. “I fear that providing a hasty response to your suggestion might have unfortunate implications. I require a brief period of reflection upon which to consider your proposal.”

Well, that was a whole lot of words to say nothing much at all.

She needed time. If she could delay, maybe she and Bessie would be able to find an alternative solution—ideally a way to keep Mr. Emerson quiet.

He hummed thoughtfully. “That seems reasonable. You may have two days.”

Two days? That was very little time.

“Surely I can have longer than that.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Judging from his expression, there was no chance of talking him around.

Seraphina drew in a deep breath and exhaled roughly. “I find myself overwrought. I would like to return home.”

Fortunately, Mr. Emerson didn’t argue. He pivoted and led her back the other way. He seemed to realize that he had played a winning hand, because he didn’t push for anything further, so she remained silent, her mind a whirl of worries and questions.

What could she do?

Had her medicine actually harmed anyone?

Was there a way she could persuade Mr. Emerson to hold his tongue without marrying him?

If her medicine was faulty, was it only one particular batch, or had she been unintentionally hurting people she was trying to help for years?

She tried to mentally sort through her options. There weren’t many, and she didn’t know which to address first. If the quinine was dangerous, then she should send a note to her contact warning people not to use it, but if Mr. Emerson was lying, and those people needed the medicine, they might die if they didn’t get it.

There was no clear answer, and no obvious way to keep others from harm.

As they reached the place where his carriage waited, another carriage rolled by on the street, and a familiar face looked out the window at her.

The Baron Sylvestor.

Their gazes locked. She saw him, and he saw her. Her stomach bottomed out. Would he report this to Trevor? Would Trevor think she was betraying him?

Lord, she hoped not.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyelids. Earlier today, the future had looked bright. How had it gone so wrong?

CHAPTER 19

As soon as Letitia strode into the room, her brow furrowed, her eyes shining with concern, Seraphina threw herself into her arms. Letitia reeled back, caught off guard, but steadied herself and hugged Seraphina just as tightly. Her friend smelled of something that singed Seraphina’s nose hairs, but her embrace was warm and comforting.

Eyes burning, Seraphina swallowed, determined not to cry. “It’s awful,” she sniffed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“This isn’t like you,” Letitia said, trying to draw away. Seraphina let her go. “What’s wrong?”