Poppy remained unmoved. “Gwen, I think it’s precious that you’ve found a new man to take Jasper’s place, but that doesn’t mean you need to flaunt him around in polite company.”

Liam shoved her aside to confront Poppy. “You’re a nasty piece of work, aren’t you?” Liam snarled, but all Gwen could see was the mortification on Patrick’s face.

He didn’t look at her as he turned to Frederick. “Forgive me,” he said to her grandfather. “The annual lobster bake is a family event you all look forward to, and I regret seeing it ruined. I will catch the ferry back to the mainland.”

“Patrick, don’t go,” Gwen said, tugging on his arm. He whirled to face her, and she flinched at the anger on his face. He jerked away and continued heading toward the staircase.

She tried to follow, but Liam caught her arm.

“Let him go,” he said quietly. “The last thing a man wants after being publicly humiliated is to have a woman fussing over him.”

“But he knows I don’t think like that.”

“Which is why he doesn’t need you to soothe his ego. Let him have his pride.”

She couldn’t. When someone was hurting, she needed to offer comfort. Poppy had identified Patrick’s deepest wound, split it wide open, and poured in a gallon of salt in front of the entire family.

She needed to make it right.

Patrick flung his traveling bag on the bed and dumped his clothes inside. These people were despicable. He wouldn’t want his future children exposed to them or thinking that this was the way life ought to be. Walking away from Gwen was going to hurt, but marriage was more than joining two people together. It meant joining two families. He didn’t want his children to be like the hideous Penelope-Arabella or look up to people like Poppy and Oscar Blackstone.

“You aren’t really leaving, are you?”

Gwen stood in the open doorway, looking like a wounded doe. He didn’t want to hurt her, but they’d been foolish to imagine there could be anything lasting between them.

“We both know I don’t belong here,” he said.

“Is it just Poppy who’s driving you away? I’m sorry she spoke as she did, but the rest of the family doesn’t feel as she does.”

Maybe they were better at hiding it, but Patrick knew exactly how the rest of the family felt. He snapped the clasp shut and tugged the heavy bag off the bed. “Poppy is the ringleader, but she’s got a loyal following.”

“We don’t have to see her,” Gwen said quietly. “I’ve got a lovely house on campus. You’ve seen it. It isn’t grand or fancy, but it’s big enough for us . . . if someday there is going to be an us.”