Page 56 of The Botanist’s Improper Bride

“When have you ever known Trevor to kowtow to society’s expectations?”

“If his mother put pressure on him⁠—”

“He’d simply remind her that if she tries to control his choice of wife, he may not marry at all.”

Seraphina wasn’t so certain that Trevor would ignore Lady Wembley’s advice, but even if he did, that didn’t mean their marriage was a good idea. “What if he marries me despite everything, and he’s treated poorly because of it?”

“Sera.” Letitia removed her arm from around Seraphina’s shoulders, turned to face her, and gripped her upper arm. “The ton already believes that Trevor is strange. He’s tolerated because of his title, and that will continue, regardless of anything else. Besides, he hates London. He won’t care if you choose to spend all of your time at Nunhaven instead. In fact, he’d prefer it.”

“But he still has to join the House of Lords one day!” Seraphina cried, irritated that Letitia didn’t seem to understand her concern. “When that happens, he won’t have a choice about spending time in London.”

“And when that happens, no one will care about your scandal anymore. Lord Wembley has a good many years ahead of him yet.” Perhaps sensing that Seraphina was at the end of her tether with this particular discussion, Letitia changed tack. “Putting aside the issue of your marriage for a moment, if Mr. Emerson were to make his accusation public, could you be prosecuted?”

Seraphina drew in a deep breath and tried to follow the new thread of the conversation. “Ah, I believe that depends on whether they could prove the quinine I made caused any significant harm or… or…” Her voice wobbled. “Wrongful death.”

She bit her lip, determined not to even consider that a possibility. Surely if her medicine had ever caused such severe reactions, she’d have been told. Her contact would have stopped requesting quinine from her, at the very least.

“I cannot be prosecuted simply for making quinine and giving it to others,” she continued, ignoring the pity in Letitia’s gaze. “I checked the laws very carefully. I have to be clear with people that I’m not a licensed apothecary, but unless I’m taken to court for causing harm, and it’s proven true, then I’ve done nothing legally wrong.”

“Do you think he would fabricate evidence?” Letitia asked.

Seraphina shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t believe he would stoop to blackmailing me into marriage, so I doubt I can be considered an expert on the man’s moral character.”

“Assuming he can’t prove anything, but the truth of your activities comes out, would you marry Trevor?”

“I don’t know.” This was all too hard. She much preferred chemistry, with its certainties and predictable outcomes, to this complicated dilemma. “The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but I’m not sure whether my abandonment of our betrothal or social ostracism would be a more significant hurt in his eyes.”

“He’s the only one who can answer that,” Letitia said, then sighed and rubbed her temples. “This conversation calls for cake.”

Seraphina shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“You need sugar.”

Letitia summoned a maid and asked for a tray of tea and cake.

When the maid left, Seraphina resumed their conversation. “It seems like there are no good outcomes, and it doesn’t feel fair to make this decision when it involves someone else.”

“Have you considered sharing your predicament with Trevor?”

The maid glided in with a tray, and both women fell silent. Letitia prepared their tea and passed Seraphina a slice of cake, insisting she take it when she tried to refuse. Narrowing her eyes, Seraphina reluctantly chomped into the cake. It probably tasted good, but all she could focus on was the way it stuck in her mouth like glue and hurt to swallow.

“Good. Now wash it down with tea. There you go.”

She gulped the tea, which was exactly how she liked it, and grimaced as she forced it down her gullet.

“Better?” Letitia asked.

Seraphina opened her mouth to grumble, but closed it when she realized she did actually feel a little calmer. “Maybe.”

“I think you should tell Trevor,” Letitia repeated more adamantly.

Cocking her head, Seraphina considered the possibility. “Wouldn’t it be wrong of me to burden him with something like this?”

Letitia bit into her own piece of cake, nibbling at it more delicately than Seraphina had. “You recall that Trevor is quite clever, correct?”

“I’ve never doubted his intelligence.” But it did skew toward the scientific rather than the social. That said, he’d shown that he valued straightforwardness and transparency, so perhaps Letitia was right, and she ought to be honest with him.

“He might have a different perspective than we do,” Letitia went on. “Maybe even an idea that will help.”