They were, but Alice tried not to pay any attention. It was hard to drum up the proper enthusiasm when her soul cried out for another man, the stubborn one currently lying in her lap. Fortunately, her mother was excited enough for the both of them. “I thought you didn’t care about society gossip.”

“I don’t, except when it pertains to you, apparently. Is he insufferably boring?”

“Not at all. He’s kind and smart.”

Kit grunted, a noise that hinted at both disbelief and displeasure. “He won’t let you near a kitchen, you know. A duchess who cooks? It would scandalize all of England.”

“It’s a good match for me, Kit. Excellent, actually.” And it wasn’t as if she had any other prospects.

“Of course it is. I’m sorry, Alice.”

It wasn’t what she’d wished for him to say. A small part of her had hoped he would jump up and declare his intentions. Drag the reverend out from wherever he was hiding so he could marry them here on the spot. Anything but wish her well with another man.

I am a scoundrel, dear Alice. That is why I haven’t married.

Why was she hoping he would change? He wouldn’t, and wishing for it was an exercise in futility.

All the hurt from the other night came rushing back, cramping in her gut. She couldn’t help but mourn the conversations they’d never have, the moments they’d never share. The smiles they’d never exchange. The inside of her chest was raw, like someone had taken a bread knife to the sensitive skin, and her lids began to burn with unshed tears.

I need to leave.

She lifted him and began to edge to the side. “Kit, I must go. My mother is expecting me.”

“Oh.” He sat up, his weary gaze studying her face. “Thank you for coming. It means more than I can ever say. Forrest would have really liked you.”

Drawing in a breath, she squeezed his hand. “I didn’t come for him. I came for you. Goodbye, Kit.” She stepped into the aisle, anxious to disappear.

“Alice, wait.”

She paused and looked over her shoulder. Kit was thin and pale, anguish etched in the beautiful lines of his face. “You’ll . . . come to see me before you leave for England, won’t you?”

Everything in her longed to go back and throw herself in his arms, declare her feelings and lay herself bare at his feet. To beg him for scraps of time and attention between his other conquests. Two months ago, she probably would have done it without blinking. But she was not that woman any longer. She needed to do what was best for herself, no matter how much it hurt.