Still—it was encouraging when a passing man snorted in disapproval and Rotherby didn’t shove Seb away.
A coachman shouted, “Coach to Cramlington, Bedlington, and Morpeth leaving in five minutes. Get your arse aboard or cry in my dust.”
Seb released his hold on Rotherby. “Northumberland seems a good and distant destination.”
“Good journey, my friend. Hope you find some peace.”
Seb’s throat grew tight and thick. He gave Rotherby a nod, then strode hurriedly to join the queue shoving its way onto the coach. The jostling and noise, tremendous as it was, did not quite obscure his haze of pain.
He’d never sleep well again, knowing that Grace slept in Fredericks’s arms. He would unfairly compare everyone he met to her, and would find everyone else lacking. There was every likelihood that he’d never attain the peace Rotherby had wished him.
Even so, he had to try.
Chapter 25
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”
Mason managed a small, taut smile. He looked over at the specimen cases, with their rows of dead and preserved animals. “Am I to draw meaning from the location? You are no enthusiast of the British Museum, as I recall.”
Grace couldn’t achieve any sense of pleasure that he’d recalled what she’d said during their encounter from weeks ago. Everything within her was as lifeless and immobile as the creatures in the cases.
“Montagu House is a public place,” she said. “We can talk here without concern for propriety.” And Katie, immersed in yet another licentious novel, stood nearby.
He sighed. “I’ve a good idea what it is you mean to tell me. And it’s unnecessary. Your expression is quite articulate.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, hurting for him. “It wasn’t my intention to send false signals.”
He shook his head. “It was my interpretation. There’s no fault to be found.” Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Is it Holloway?”
“That’s irrelevant,” she said, her voice brusque.
“You’re right. Forgive me.”
His wounded expression couldn’t help but touch her. As gently as she could, she said, “We’re just not meant to be husband and wife. I . . .” Her chest burned, but she had no choice but to continue. “I do not love you, and to accept your proposal would be a terrible thing to do. To both of us.”
“Ah.” He pressed his lips together. “That is . . . not what I desired hearing. Not what anyone desires to hear.”
“If I could take your hurt away, I would.” She meant this sincerely. Never did she want to inflict damage on anyone. But she had, and she’d need to live with the consequences.
“Your candor is appreciated,” he said sadly. “And helpful.”
Damn, she wished she could feel something for him. He was a good man, and one she’d wounded. “You’ll need to find another herpetologist for your expedition to Greenland.”
“So I will.” His brow furrowed, and he turned his hat around and around in his hands, as if he was deep in thought. Finally, he said, “Come on the expedition, anyway.”
She drew herself up, certain she’d misheard him. “Pardon?”
“We still require an expert on reptiles and amphibians. I don’t see why that cannot be you.” As he spoke, his voice became more energized, more eager. “You can bring a companion, that way everything is respectable. What do you think? Will you join me?”
“I . . .” She blinked, stunned. “It’s not quite accepted or normal, what you’re suggesting. An unmarried woman voyaging to a distant shore to pursue her scientific studies . . .”
“Precisely the reason why I believe you’d be the right person for the expedition. You’ve gone through your life without any worry what other people think about you. That’s commendable.”
“Not precisely.” She’d been hurt by society before, when she’d first come out, and she’d courted his good opinion, with ruinous consequences. In her journey, she’d hurt Sebastian and Mason. And herself.
“If you’re concerned,” Mason said, “that I am inviting you out of a sense of politeness, or that I hope I might win your affections despite your . . .” He coughed. “Despite your rejection, let me assure you that I’m guided only by my belief that you’re precisely the person this expedition requires. You’d be an asset.”