Seven days since they’d been found by Rhys in the park. Seven days since Anthony had stopped coming around to meet her.

She should be glad for it.

After the words he’d hurled at her, she should be quite glad to be rid of his company. Happy to be free of him.

But she wasn’t.

She missed him.

Desperately.

Curled up on her side on the window seat, she stared out at the rain slanting down from the skies, leaving great torrents running through the nearly empty streets. She touched a finger to the windowpane and traced one of those drops, recalling a different rainy day, back when she’d visited Anthony’s mother. He’d joined Lettie instead and followed her outside, chasing after her hat for her, and—

Oh, God. It was too much.

Rolling onto her other side, she gave her back to the window and fixed her gaze on the door instead.

Why was she pining for a man who’d no wish to be with her?

Who’d claimed all the time he’d spent with her had been the worst decision he’d ever made?

Because there was no reasoning where love was concerned, and that was what was worst of all.

She’d never again see Anthony. Worse, she would see him, and he’d exist as a stranger at Polite Society events. Mayhap they’d politely exchange greetings for the benefit of propriety, but otherwise, he’d one day marry, making some other woman his wife.

Lettie squeezed her eyes shut.

She would hate that woman and resent her with all that she was.

She would hate her for having what Lettie wanted.

And Lettie? She would know a polite, passionless union.

Funny, she’d resolved herself to the fact that was the best she could hope for, and now she wanted to run and hide and keep herself from that fate.

Rap, rap, rap.

Alas…

With a groan, Lettie shifted onto her back. “No,” she called, slapping a hand over her face. “Go away.”

She wasn’t ready for Lord Exmoor’s visit.

Lord Exmoor, who had come around these past days that she’d not seen Anthony.

Lord Exmoor, who was more than happy to enjoy her company and be with her and who was willing to offer his name and a future with him.

Tears threatened, and she blinked them back. Why couldn’t the heart be as logical as the brain when it came to matters of love?

Rap, rap, rap.

This time, the person on the other side of the door pressed the handle.

“I said go—”

“Away,” a familiar voice murmured. “Yes, I know.”

Opening her eyes, she turned and looked at her elder brother. “I thought you were Mother or Caroline,” she mumbled. “But you can go away, too.” Flipping onto her side, she gave him her back.