He blew out a harsh breath. Callie watched him uncertainly. A notion occurred to her, one that she wished for so much that she didn't even dare entertain it for more than an instant. He took a few paces across the room. She thought he might speak. He stopped before the window and stood with his hand gripped on the drape, staring out.

"So you refused him?" he asked without turning.

She would have liked to say that she had. It seemed worse than a disgrace now, it seemed a betrayal to be here with Trev, to want him beyond anything else, and yet be entertaining a proposal from another man. But it was not as if Trev had asked for her hand. Indeed, he said he was going away back to France. And he had said nothing to suggest that he desired to wed her and take her home to his estates. She might indulge in a great number of fantastical daydreams, but that was one fantasy that she ruthlessly denied to herself.

She straightened and lifted her chin, pushing back a lock of her hair that had fallen loose. "I told him that I would consider it."

He gave a brief, cold nod, as if he had expected it.

"I don't think I'll be happy living with Hermey." She felt compelled to explain. "And so…" Her voice trailed off. "Well, I said to him I would think it over."

He tilted his head back and gave a short laugh. "Sturgeon!" he said bitterly. He turned to her. "I don't trust him, Callie. It's your money he wants."

"Yes," she said stiff ly. "Of course."

He frowned at her, his jaw working.

She kept her chin lifted. "It would be foolish to expect at this juncture that I would marry out of affec tion or anything of that nature. If I married at all."

He stood looking at her, and then he shook his head. He put his hands up and ran them through his hair, as if he were quarreling with some recalcitrant and impossible child. He laughed again, a little wildly. "Accept him, then!" he exclaimed. "Why not? What's love to do with it, after all?"

She rose to her feet, gathering the white shawl from the f loor. "I only told him I would think about it. But Hermey's fiancé doesn't want me. And I can't remain at Shelford. I won't. Trev, I don't know what I'm to do! If you—if I thought for a moment, if I thought that you—" She stopped, unable to complete the sentence, angry that she had said so much. She turned her back, clutching the dress and shawl against herself.