Ianthe put a hand to her chest, trying to calm her now frantically pounding heartbeat. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘Almost since you arrived.’
Her aunt bustled across the room and then back again, bearing a cup of tea in one hand and a plate of macaroons in the other, before perching precariously on the side of the bed.
‘Here we are. I bought these as a treat for us last night, but since you were indisposed, we’ll have them for breakfast instead.’
‘Thank you.’ Ianthe accepted the tea gratefully. ‘I’m sorry I ruined our arrival, Aunt, but Percy and I had the most dreadful quarrel.’
‘So I gathered. You were quite overwrought when you got here.’
‘Oh...’ Her cheeks flushed as memories of the day before came flooding back. She’d collapsed into her aunt’s arms on the doorstep, still reeling from the shock of Percy’s deception and Mr Felstone’s so-called proposal. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Nonsense! You’ve given the neighbours something to talk about. They’ll be thrilled.’ Hazel eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘So I sent you off to bed and Percy to stay at the Swan. I had intended for him to use this room while you shared with me, but it seemed like you needed some peace. Besides, I didn’t like the way he was talking to you. Takes after your father’s side of the family, that one.’
Ianthe smiled, trying to imagine her brother in such a vibrantly pink bedroom. Now that she was getting used to the colour, she was starting to like it, as if she were a little girl back in the nursery. It felt like a safe haven, a space of her own again—a home. That was all she wanted in life now, a place to hide from the world. But she still owed her aunt an explanation for her behaviour. If only she knew where to begin...
‘It wasn’t entirely Percy’s fault, Aunt. I behaved very badly.’
‘Oh, I doubt that. Have a macaroon.’
‘You don’t understand.’ She took a deep, faltering breath. ‘He wants me to marry Charles Lester.’
‘Lester?’ Aunt Sophoria paused with a biscuit halfway to her lips. ‘That vain old buffoon? Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘You don’t like him?’
‘Never have, never could. He used to hang around your mother when she was a girl, too. I used to chase him away then. What on earth is Percy thinking?’
‘They’ve become close this past year. That’s why Percy brought me here. They arranged it together.’
‘Ah. I did wonder about your brother’s sudden enthusiasm for visiting me after ten years. So Lester’s in on it, then?’
Ianthe lifted her shoulders and then dropped them again despairingly. ‘Percy says he’s going to propose, but I don’t understand it. I’ve done nothing to encourage him and it’s not as if I have money or connections. It can’t be love, I’m sure of it.’
‘Love?’ Her aunt chewed on a macaroon thoughtfully. ‘No, love isn’t a sentiment I’d associate with Charles Lester.’
‘He scares me, Aunt.’ She gave an involuntary shudder, trying to put all the things she’d scarcely dared think about into words. ‘He watches me so intently all the time, like he’s hungry, but as if it’s not really me he’s looking at either. It’s like it’s me, but not me that he wants. I don’t know how else to explain it.’
Aunt Sophoria screwed up her mouth for a moment before patting her hand reassuringly. ‘Well, if you don’t like him then that’s an end to it and we’ll tell your brother so together. As for Lester, don’t worry, I know how to handle him.’
Ianthe put down her tea, flinging her arms around her aunt’s neck with a sob of relief. ‘Oh, thank you, Aunt. I was so afraid you’d agree with Percy.’
‘As if I ever could!’ Aunt Sophoria gave her a tight squeeze. ‘Honestly, men! I ought to box both their ears.’
Ianthe laughed before sitting back again with a guilty expression. ‘That wasn’t all I was upset about, I’m afraid. You see, there was another man on the train.’
An image of Mr Felstone’s sternly handsome features flashed before her eyes, making her hesitate. Perhaps it was better not to tell her aunt
about him. In the cold light of day the whole thing sounded ridiculous, as if she’d simply imagined it. Was it possible that she’d somehow misunderstood his proposal? That she’d been so angry that she’d somehow...misheard?
She frowned, thinking over their argument. No, he’d definitely called her a schemer before he’d asked her to marry him. A business proposal, he’d called it, though surely he couldn’t have been serious. No sane man would suggest such a thing to a woman he’d only just met, no gentleman certainly. And yet...he’d seemed sane. He’d even seemed like a gentleman. So why had he said it? At the time she’d assumed that he’d been mocking her, taking advantage of their isolated situation to make fun of her dowdy appearance. Now, after a solid night’s sleep, she felt more confused than ever.
‘You mean Mr Felstone?’ Aunt Sophoria picked up the last macaroon and popped it between her lips.
Ianthe’s mouth dropped open. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Percy told me that part.’