Never Fall for Your Fiancee

Chapter Twenty-Four

A very different Hugh came down late to dinner that evening and remained for the next week. Not that anyone else would have noticed, because he was, on the surface at least, the same mischievous, charming fellow he always was. Perhaps more so. The life and soul of everything, constantly entertaining everyone and always laughing. But the special connection Minerva had always shared with him was gone, and while his blue eyes twinkled, they no longer twinkled for her.

By unspoken tacit agreement, they avoided one another unless they were in company, and she hadn’t ventured to the portrait gallery. She was too angry, too sad, and too proud to listen to his oh-so-reasonable explanations again or to suffer a second insulting proposal to become his kept woman.

Even when a beautiful set of watercolors arrived, complete with brushes, papers, and an easel, she chose to thank him over the breakfast table rather than do it in private. Each evening they bid each other a bland good-night, neither lingering in case the other uttered the dreaded words “my love” and they would be forced to be alone together with all the suffocating awkwardness such a meeting would now entail. Instead, they sent messages via Payne. Short, impersonal, painful messages that only imparted whatever pertinent detail was necessary to keep their interminable ruse going until Lord Bellingham returned to save them.

Worse, if indeed things could be worse, Minerva had to put on a show for everyone, including her sisters, constantly wearing the mask of cheerful normality when it felt as if she were dying inside. Nursing a newly broken heart in a house filled with jollity was exhausting, and she collapsed on her bed each night mourning the loss of him while sleep refused to come. When it did, he occupied her dreams until she woke up bereft and drained, only to begin the cycle again.

“The green or the red, miss?” In the mirror she listlessly watched Martha’s reflection hold up two gowns. “Both are stunning.”

Not so long ago, Minerva would have killed for dresses so fine and beautiful. She had been overwhelmed when those two evening gowns had arrived, and excited to wear them. Now neither held any appeal. Nor did the assembly. Especially as she wouldn’t be waltzing. How could she waltz with him now? “You choose.”

The maid smiled, then laid them both out on the bed. “Let’s do your hair first and see which one looks the best once it’s done. What sort of style do you want?”

“Whichever you think best.” She handed over the brush she had been dutifully pulling through her hair at Martha’s insistence, to make it shine, not that she had anyone to make it shine for. With a smile as false as the role she was playing, she settled back and suffered the maid’s ministrations.

The light rap on the door was followed by Olivia’s voice. “Might I come in?”

“Yes…” Hugh’s mother had never visited her bedchamber before, or even this wing. “Yes, of course.” She sat up straighter and pulled the thin robe closed, embarrassed to be in just her chemise and the low-cut tight stays Martha had assured her went with an evening gown.

The older woman entered smiling, already fully dressed in a glamorous peacock-blue silk gown and dripping in what Minerva assumed were real sapphires and diamonds. “Could you leave us, Martha?” Olivia clearly had something of great import to say. “I shall summon you again when we are done.”

She tried to ignore the trickle of unease that skittered down her spine, and managed to conjure a welcoming smile. Despite her rift with Hugh, she had been getting on famously with his mother. The probing questions had stopped and, much to her surprise, they had started to become friends. Enough so, Minerva had stopped herself twice from confiding about her rift with Hugh.

“I hope you don’t mind me barging in on your toilette, only I wanted to bring you this.” Olivia produced a velvet-covered box from behind her back and held it out to her. “Open it.”

Slowly, she reached for the box and lifted the lid, then blinked in surprise at the contents.

“My mother’s rubies. She gave them to me as a wedding present and seeing as I never had a daughter, I should like to give them to you.”