For a moment, Thomasina considered bolting from the room and not coming back until she had the support of someone, anyone, else.

“No,” she whispered to herself, and forced her shoulders back in an attempt to be braver than she was. “Good evening, my lady,” she said in what she hoped was a breezy, friendly tone as she swept into the room and toward her future mother-in-law.

If she had hoped to garner as welcoming a response, she was immediately disappointed. Lady Harcourt turned and gave her a bored look with flat, empty eyes. “Which one are you?” she asked.

Thomasina swallowed hard and shifted with discomfort. “I am Thomasina, my lady. Your son’s newly intended.”

Lady Harcourt made a little sound in her throat and returned her gaze to the window. “Very well. Good evening, Miss Thomasina.”

“How are you tonight?” she asked, continuing to force herself into an attempt at polite conversation.

“Tolerable,” Lady Harcourt said without looking at her.

Thomasina clenched her hands at her sides. “Wasn’t the weather lovely today? With all the rain recently—”

Lady Harcourt pivoted on her, those dark eyes spearing her again. “I have no desire to prattle on about the weather with you, foolish girl. If you are trying to make some kind of good impression on me because I am your future mother-in-law, then let me be frank with you. I don’t care about your marriage to my son except for the dowry it will provide our house. Honestly, I assume he doesn’t care either since he switched between the two of you so easily.”

Thomasina took a long step back. “I-I am sorry, my lady.”

“All I want from your match is for you to exercise more self-control than your terrible sister did. I have borne enough whispers in my life. If you can manage not to bring even more scandal to our family, then you and I will have nothing further to say to each other.”

Thomasina swallowed past the lump in her throat at such bluntness, at the edge of cruelty and dismissal this woman portrayed. She did not cry, though, which she congratulated herself for. She had a feeling that would only set off this woman even more.

“I do beg your pardon,” she whispered as she backed toward the door. “I understand you perfectly, and I assure you I will do my best to bring no shame to your family once the wedding has been held. Good evening.”

She pivoted and ran from the room, blindly seeking a refuge where she could have a moment. She’d never believed she would encounter such coldness from a woman she didn’t even know. And if she had felt its underlying cause was some protectiveness of Jasper, she might have understood it and even respected it given the circumstances.

But it didn’t seem Lady Harcourt cared for her son more than anything else. She couched her concerns about the marriage in terms of scandal, not Jasper’s happiness or comfort.