Selena whisked her hand from his grasp. “Not the kiss, I implore you.”

Lucius knit his brows. "But why not?" he asked softly. “If we are to become man and wife, our first priority will be to each other and not your charge.”

"We will not become man and wife," Selena said. "It was foolish and weak of me to have allowed it to go this far. I do beg your pardon." She turned her face to the window, and although she willed her feet to move, they seemed stuck to the floor. She could no more end this conversation than she could give him a favorable answer.

“Why? I know you feel for me as I do for you. No one who returns my kiss with such eagerness can claim to be cold toward me."

Selena was flooded with shame. She had no excuse to kiss him the way she did, and she forced herself to look at him. “Your sister doesn't like me. And every time someone like Mr. Downing, or some other former London acquaintance, should chance upon our circle, they will treat me with disdain. You will be reminded of my disgrace and will wonder whatever possessed you in a moment's weakness to have offered for me. And I do not wish to do that to you."

“Selena.” He ground out her name in frustration.

She shook her head and turned to go. “I must find Rebecca."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Selena hurried from the drawing room. She needed to find Rebecca before she did something drastic.

And oh! That girl must not flee to Lord Harrowden. She would probably spill everything into his ears.

"Where are you running in such a frenzy?" Selena turned at the sound of the earl’s voice and nearly stumbled in relief. He was not with Rebecca.

“I…” Selena paused. It suddenly occurred to her that it would not be prudent to let him know Rebecca had run off upset, because he would ask the cause—that, or he would run after her. She was saved from having to answer by a knock on the door.

Again! And no footman. Lord Harrowden looked at her, and she knew there was no point asking him to answer the door. He was above her in station. She walked over and pulled it open.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” One of the gentlemen assessed her quickly and seemed to have judged her position was not that of a lower servant. “We have an appointment to meet Lady Harrowden, and I believe Sir Lucius Clavering as well. Here are our cards.”

“Ah.” The solicitor and accountant Sir Lucius had spoken of. The awkwardness of the situation struck her at once. He was still in the drawing room, and she would be forced to see him again. “Please come in,” she said.

The earl stepped forward. “Good afternoon. I am Lord Harrowden. How may I help you?”

The same man exchanged a look with the other, then bowed. “Good afternoon. We are here to see Lady Harrowden.”