Page 94 of In With a Chance

“I said I wanted to thank you, Miss Chance,” said the marquess with a wry smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

“I… I don’t understand,” Gwen said awkwardly.

The man before her blew out a long, slow breath. “And I don’t understand why you thought you had to end our engagement with a letter.”

This, at least, she could clear up. “Mrs. Kinley told you. She forgot to post my letter—”

“I mean, I don’t understand why you didn’t just come to me,” Lord Ravenshurst said gently. “Come to me and told me you did not wish to marry me. I would have understood.”

Gwen’s jaw fell open at his words. “You… You would have?”

Goodness. The thought had never occurred to her.

Had Ernest been right, then, that her way of doing things demonstrated her lack of maturity?

Oh, she had known Lord Ravenshurst was not in love with her. There had never been any question about that. But still, she had presumed the man’s pride and honor would have been piqued if she had admitted that with all he could offer her…it still wasn’t enough.

She had thought accepting a sensible match, even without affection, was a sign of maturity. She’d been afraid to face the end of it…which she realized was indeed, perhaps, a sign instead of youthful folly.

“I am not a monster, Miss Chance,” the marquess said with a dry laugh. “It is not in my nature to force a woman to become my wife, just as I do not think you would have wished to enforce a marriage you did not believe in.”

“But—But—”

“I might not be in love you with, but I still wish for your happiness,” continued Lord Ravenshurst quietly, as the noise of the ball continued on the other side of the curtain, somehow far away from this small alcove. “And if your happiness would have been diminished in marrying me, I would have broken the engagement myself, regardless of Society’s expectations.”

Gwen’s eyes widened. “You… You would have?”

It was unthinkable. For a woman to break an engagement… Well, that was shocking, and as she was now experiencing, and it would become the fodder of Society’s gossips for a long time.

But for a man to do so! A man breaking an engagement had no honor. He would be considered unacceptable as a gentleman, and no respectable woman would ever consider his hand again. That would be the true scandal.

He would, in essence, be condemning himself and his title to an heirless future.

Lord Ravenshurst was smiling. “You love Baron Frasemere, don’t you?”

It was not a question, and Gwen could not hope to deny it. Not as her cheeks burned. “Y-Yes.”

“I flatter myself that you did not even meet him until after our engagement was formed,” the marquess said with a wry chuckle. “But I wish you every happiness with him.”

If only it were that simple. “I do not think I will experience that happiness,” Gwen said quietly, holding her head as high as she could manage. “There has been a small misunderstanding… And not a small amount of cruel judgment. He… He has broken with me.”

Compassion flickered across Lord Ravenshurst’s face in the softening of his brow, and it was in that moment that she realized he had been telling the truth. He really did care for her happiness, even if it would ruin his reputation.

“‘Broken with’ you?”

“So it appears you and I will have to face the same fate,” she said bracingly, trying to ignore the way her spirits were simultaneously sinking. “I will not marry, for the man I love does not wish to marry me, and you will not marry because… Well. I suppose you might.”

It was a strange thought. Though Gwen had unquestionably no interest in the man for herself, it was rather a strange idea, the Marquess of Ravenshurst marrying another.

But there was a bob at his throat, and when he spoke, Lord Ravenshurst’s voice was gravelly and filled with regret. “Though I convinced myself that an engagement to you would be the sensible course of action, you breaking it has shown me… No, I should not have offered, should not have expected you to be satisfied with nothing more than a sensible marriage. I shall never marry.”

“You don’t know that. I bear the blame of our broken connection, not you,” Gwen said hastily, stepping forward and trying to smile in encouragement. “There will be a young lady who would—”

“There will be no young ladies for me,” Lord Ravenshurst said quietly. “I… I love another.”

Gwen’s smile faded. “Oh. Oh, I… I see.”

And now she did see. It was all so clear now: the reason the Marquess of Ravenshurst had never declared his love for her, the reason he had never even kissed her. It wasn’t just that he did not love her. It was that his love had already been given away.