Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

M r Hanson left with the promise to call again the next day; thus, when Adelaide heard someone being admitted to the house before noon the following morning, she assumed it must be him. She was sitting alone in the morning room, wishing her family kept earlier hours, for if any of them were awake, they might have done a better job enumerating all Mr Hanson's virtues than she was managing to do. Supposing the man himself was better placed than anyone to help her, she stood up and arranged her skirts and tried to compose herself in readiness for his appearance.

She let slip a curse when the door was thrown open hard enough to bang against the wall. After that, all words failed her, for to her astonishment, it was Kem who burst into the room. He did not say anything; he only stared at her, breathing hard and looking furious.

"What are you doing here?" she stammered.

"Never mind what I am doing—what the devil are you doing?" he replied heatedly, advancing towards her .

Adelaide's heart sank. He had heard, then. "How did you find out?"

"Oakley sent an express, despairing that he could not talk you out of it."

"He asked you to try instead, did he?"

"No, but I mean to nevertheless."

She shook her head. "You cannot. It is for the best."

"For whom?"

"For everyone."

He laughed bitterly. "You cannot be serious."

"It is about time I was. I risked everything when I left Chiltern Court—my family's reputation, their happiness, their belief in me. 'Tis high time I had the mettle to stop running away from every little thing that frightens me."

"What halfwit has told you that running away was cowardly?" He took another step forwards. "Adelaide, it took real courage to take your fate in your own hands like that. Hard-earned courage and resilience that were forced on you in the worst circumstances, which you have nevertheless made your greatest accomplishments. For God's sake, do not give them up now—not for Hanson !"

Adelaide bristled at the suggestion that she would be required to give up any part of herself when she married. "I beg you would not speak ill of the man who will be my husband." She saw him wince, and it made her angry. "You cannot value my independence as much as you say if you are this determined to oppose my choice!"

"I refuse to believe it is your choice."

"Well, it is!" she retorted sharply, because raising her voice seemed the best way of smothering the doubts that clamoured in her head. "I choose to make my uncle happy. I choose to protect Oakley's reputation. I choose to show gratitude for my aunt's unwavering esteem. I choose to do what is right for someone else for a change, instead of always looking to my own inclination. I choose my family!"

Kem took one last step. He was toe-to-toe with her, piercing her with his dark, unblinking gaze. "But do you choose him?"

Adelaide took a shuddering breath. She wanted to beg him not to be angry, to understand. She wanted him to unclench his fists and wrap her in his arms and never let go. She wanted to scream at him, You are the one who is marrying someone else! You have denied me my choice!

"You have no right to ask me that!" she cried, but all the fight had gone from her voice, and it sounded pitiful.

His eyes seemed to darken further still. "Tell me! Do you choose him?"

"Of course she does."

It was Kem who swore this time as he stepped hastily away from her. Adelaide tensed as Mr Hanson crossed the room and kissed her on the cheek. He took up her hand and held on to it.

"The footman informed me you were here, my lord. I thought he must be mistaken, for I would have thought your presence would be sorely missed at Avonwyke at the present time."

Kem glared balefully at him. "The wedding is not until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Then may I offer my heartiest congratulations to both parties. "

"I shall pass them on. If I remember to."

"I doubt you will forget so soon, for you must be heading back imminently."

Kem did not respond, and Adelaide felt Mr Hanson's grip tighten. She glanced at him and saw what looked like nervousness in his eyes. He thinks Kem will change my mind, she realised with a start. It would not do. Kem could not be allowed to break her heart and ruin her engagement. Mr Hanson was not a monster, after all. He might be irreverent and occasionally careless, but at least he was not so cruel as to try and deny her happiness on all fronts—and he was all she had! She stood a little taller, allowing her arm to press against his so that they might present a united front.

"May I offer my congratulations as well, my lord, and wish you a safe journey back to Avonwyke. If you will excuse us, Mr Hanson and I have much to discuss."

Kem stared at her, his complexion heightened and his eyes stormy. After looking between them a few times, he said tersely, "My best wishes to you both," gave a curt bow, and left.

Mr Hanson let go of Adelaide's hand and exhaled heavily. "The damned cheek of the man! Thinking it is his prerogative to insert himself into everyone else's affairs! One of these days, he?—"

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" Adelaide interrupted. "I…excuse me." She fled the room and dashed through the house, her heart beating wildly. The footman was closing the front door, and with a hasty apology, she tugged it open again and ran outside. "Kem! Wait!"

He stopped on the bottom step and turned to look up at her. The turn of his countenance made Adelaide bilious. She descended the steps until she was at a height with him.

"We are still friends, are we not?"

His handsome face contorted in a way that made her sure he was thinking something very ugly.

"Please say we are," she begged. "I could not bear it otherwise."

He clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times, his eyes darting over her in a far more superficial way than usual, as though he was trying not to see her this time. He ran a hand over his mouth, then after one brief nod, he stalked away.

Mr Hanson did not remark on Adelaide's brief absence when she returned, choosing instead to act as though Kem had never been there. She sat down next to him and listened to him rhapsodise about the many members of the haut ton he meant to invite to all the card parties he planned to host in their new house. She did not ask where she was supposed to go while these gatherings that she was not permitted to join were taking place. In truth, she did not care. She could attend to very little other than the conviction that Kem had not meant it when he agreed they could be friends, and the despair that was carving a tangible hollow directly beneath her breastbone.

With the Season approaching, the next week saw more people of fashion begin to trickle in dribs and drabs back to London. Adelaide could not but notice the increased bustle, for Mr Hanson insisted every day that they go on some jaunt or other, to this gallery, or that warehouse, this assembly, or that soiree. Her hope of seeing Kem while she was out and about was tempered with the dread of meeting his new wife—but neither came to pass since he was in none of the same places.

She soon felt the benefit of her winter of erudition, for everywhere she and Mr Hanson went, they were closely observed. Or, rather, he made sure they were noticed, and close observation always followed. She tried to tell herself she was flattered by his pride in her, but it was not long before his determination to introduce her to the entire population of London grew tiresome. That slight vexation was soon joined by others. He laughed at everything , whether or not it was funny, and most often at his own jokes, which invariably were not in the least amusing. He talked over people. He exaggerated—which Oakley had warned her he did, but she had not comprehended that anyone could do it to such a degree while still expecting to retain credibility.

One morning, when Mr Hanson was being particularly irksome, Adelaide attempted to make herself feel better by thinking of all the ways Kem would have vexed her, had she married him. The somewhat mean-spirited exercise rebounded on her, however, and rather than a list of annoyances equal to that which she had compiled for Mr Hanson, she managed only to remind herself of all those endearing mannerisms which she had previously managed to bury at the back of her mind.

It did not signify, she assured herself, for Mr Hanson had already told her he did not mean to spend every hour with her once they were wed. These niggles would surely irritate her less if they could be suffered less frequently. There was precious little she could do about it in any case; thus she resolved to set her misgivings aside and concentrate on enjoying her first Season.

Their next excursion was a promenade along Rotten Row at the fashionable hour, with Mr Hanson's sister as chaperon. Adelaide's new walking dress was exquisite, and Lady Tipton had paraded her up and down Chiltern Court's long gallery enough times that her posture was faultless. Still, she felt deficient compared to some of the women they encountered. One in particular left her feeling distinctly wanting.

"Brother, attend," Miss Hanson whispered. "The Marquess of Sawlton—and his new wife ."

Mr Hanson glanced along the path, a peculiar expression taking over his countenance. Adelaide followed his gaze and saw a handsome young couple approaching.

"Lord Sawlton, what a delight!" Mr Hanson said as they drew near. "I hear congratulations are in order."

"I thank you, yes," his lordship replied. "Allow me to introduce my new wife, Lady Sawlton."

The woman curtseyed, very slightly, but did not smile. Indeed, she looked exceedingly provoked.

"An honour, Lady Sawlton," Mr Hanson replied. Looking inordinately pleased with himself, he went on, "I have lately become engaged myself. Might I introduce my betrothed, Miss Adelaide Richmond, cousin to Viscount Oakley and niece to?—"

"We know who she is," Lady Sawlton interrupted. Her unhappy gaze was now fixed unwaveringly on Adelaide, to whom she said, "I have heard much about you, Miss Richmond. I had been looking forward to becoming better acquainted. Dare I say, even friends."

Adelaide had time to do no more than mumble a few incoherent expressions of gratitude before Mr Hanson said cheerily, "Alas!"

The woman looked at him sharply, then with no little scorn repeated, "Alas."

The marquess gave a small, disbelieving huff and led his wife away, both of them shaking their heads.

Adelaide exhaled forcefully. It had been a less scathing setdown than Lady Sophia's, yet somehow more hurtful—and she had no idea what she had done to deserve it.

"For heaven's sake, was it absolutely necessary to goad them in that fashion?" Miss Hanson asked her brother in an angry whisper.

"Probably not, but I enjoyed it," he replied. "It could have gone worse, anyhow. They could have given us the cut, and then the divine Lady Ardley over there might have uninvited us from her soiree." He gestured to a small group of women, standing a short distance away, watching them.

"I cannot say I would have minded if she had," Adelaide said wearily. "We have attended at least one engagement if not more every day this week. Must we go?"

"Of course we must! Lady Ardley's soiree will be my first chance to introduce myself to this Season's notables as the future nephew of the Earl of Tipton."

"Oh," Adelaide said flatly. Less gratified by your future wife than her connections, I see. "Well, you do not need me there for that."

She expected that he would laugh. Instead, he shrugged.

"As you please. But I must say, I find your distaste for society most peculiar. Other young ladies expend all their energy attempting to gain the ton 's attention. You seem to be forever running away from it. I do not understand it at all. But not to worry. As you say, I can just as easily tell people we are engaged without you standing next to me."

Adelaide did not speak again for the remainder of their outing, and Mr Hanson did not seem to notice. Seeming determined to prove her point for her, he informed every person they met of their engagement without once deferring to her. He had been right about another thing, too—he did not understand her. How could he when he knew nothing about her? And why was it that he knew so little? Because he had never sought to find out.

He was entirely ignorant of her parentage, adoption, and years in service. That was a fiercely guarded secret, but it was one she would have trusted her husband with if he had asked. He knew nothing of her upbringing—Oakley had assured her that history would never be passed beyond his lips, but she would have shared it herself if Mr Hanson had shown the slightest interest. Then there were the things even her brother did not know—how intensely she missed her former workmate, Patty; how much she had struggled to feel part of this new world; how she loathed idleness and adored learning, liked to wake up early and hated being hungry, loved the snow and abhorred being laughed at. Indeed, there was but one person who knew that much about her.

She stopped walking. She had used to think that she was forever disclosing her deepest, most intimate secrets to Kem because he caught her unawares, repeatedly surprising or goading her into it. But that was not the reason. It was because he was the only person who had ever asked, and she had wanted to confide in him.

Because she loved him.

"Are you quite well?" Mr Hanson enquired. He looked genuinely concerned, which Adelaide tried to concentrate on, for any evidence of affection was welcome at this stage.

"I should like to go home, please. I have a headache."

She told him that because it seemed more politic than mentioning her heartache.