Rufus's question rattled around in Elphi's brain, tormenting her as she escaped down the hall.
"Shall I take this concern for my welfare to mean you've grown fond of me?"
If only her feelings for him could be described with such a lackluster word.
It would be safer if she was merely fond of him. But she wasn't. She loved him with every beat of her heart and every breath in her body.
Elphi had even tried tempering it a couple days ago by writing a list to prove she hadn't known Rufus long enough to love him as much as she did.
However, she should have known that anything where her heart and Rufus were concerned never went according to plan because she ended up making two lists while he was out meeting with a prospective client.
The first was to test how well she'd come to know her husband over the past twenty-two days of their marriage—which was far more than she'd realized. And the second list materialized as a result of the first, blooming into a revelation of all Rufus's many qualities she'd come to love and admire.
1. He's loyal
2. He's reliable
3. He's trustworthy
4. He's selfless
5. He's bold
6. He's sarcastic
7. He's witty
8. He's self-reliant
9. He's brave
10. He's persistent
But then Rufus had walked in on her scribbling away at his desk, so she'd stuffed both lists among other notes and scraps of paper before he could see what she was writing. Later that night, she'd snuck down after he'd fallen asleep, intent on throwing them in the fire, but they were nowhere to be found.
She wanted to confront Rufus about the lists or, at the very least, figure out if he'd discovered and hidden them away. And Elphi would have—if she wasn't consumed by a horrible fear that he would end up dead if she confessed that she loved him.
It seemed to happen that way to Bradford, Fitz, and Percy. Cursed engagements or not. And how was she to know if it would be different with Rufus when she loved him more than she'd ever loved the others?
Elphi's heart raced as a growing sense of foreboding crashed through her in nauseating waves, making her bottom lip wobble and tears sting her eyes.
The walls seemed to be caving in on her, starving her of air, so she walked as fast as decency allowed without breaking into a run, paused only when she reached the landing, and took a deep, trembling breath.
"Hello ashore," Reggie called out with a silly grin bending his lips as he exited the carriage and walked to her. "We'd started to think you decided not to join us."
"Forgive me," Elphi stammered, her gaze darting between Reggie on the sidewalk and Rosalind still in the carriage, staring back at Elphi with an apologetic and disgruntled expression twisting her features. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting."
The note she'd received this morning hadn't mentioned he would be joining them, had it? No, she was sure it was only meant to be her and Rosalind visiting Madame Morrissey's shop.
Did he intend to spend the entire afternoon at the dressmakers with them? The thought caused her unease to soar.
She needed time to think and possibly talk to Rosalind about delicate matters, which would be difficult to do with Reggie along.
"No harm done." He smiled and offered the crook of his elbow, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he escorted her toward the carriage at a snail's pace. "Though I should warn you, Rosalind is not very agreeable today. My fault, I'm afraid, not yours—I insisted on accompanying the two of you and soured her mood. So if she seems a bit waspish, don't take it personally."
"Oh dear," Elphi murmured. Was it too late to cancel? She didn't think she had the mental fortitude to deal with Reggie and an ill-tempered Rosalind in her current state.
Reggie misunderstood and gave her hand a paternal pat. "Don't fret. By way of compromise, I've promised to occupy myself elsewhere while you're at Madame Morrissey's for the fitting, so she should be her usual, pleasant self once I'm gone."
Elphi wasn't quite sure what to say, both in response to his words or the disheartened tone he'd been unable to hide despite his attempt at teasing.
So she offered a sympathetic smile and climbed into the carriage as she struggled to push aside the pervading sense of anxiety that held her in its grip. It had started as a simple knot in the pit of her stomach shortly before she left the dining room to change her dress, then it grew heavier, more difficult to ignore when Rufus arrived in their room.
She'd tried to pass it off as concern over his upcoming appointments and the unavoidable danger he would be in while traveling. But the feeling only escalated, especially when Rufus asked if she'd grown fond of him.
Elphi was filled with such a deep sense of foreboding on their way to Madame Morrissey's that her stomach threatened to expel its contents, and all she could think about was how thoroughly devastated she would be if Rufus died while she was dress shopping.
"You look a bit peaky, Melphia," Reggie said as they rounded a corner. "Are you feeling unwell? Say the word, and I'll have Hodges turn the—"
"I'm fine," she lied, forcing her lips into a brief semblance of a smile. "Thank you."
Reggie studied her for a moment, unconvinced, then dipped his head in a slight nod and grinned. "How's Rufus keeping himself busy while you're away this afternoon? Hunting spirits?"
Rosalind heaved an exasperated-sounding sigh and stared out the window. "He's an investigator, Reggie. Not a hunter."
Reggie's smile faltered, but he kept it in place while waiting for Elphi's reply.
Elphi forced a swallow past the lump of emotion in her throat and nodded, reminding herself that she would have had to use shackles—an item she hadn't thought to include in her trousseau—and 'lose' the key for Rufus to bring her along since he preferred meeting clients for the first time by himself.
"He's meeting two new clients today. A young mother and father who recently lost their only child. And a motherless family who's suffered a series of tragic events since inheriting an estate."
Reggie blinked, then leaned forward and quietly asked, "Have you seen any spirits when you accompany him on his investigations?"
She hesitated and chose her words carefully. "I've had experiences of my own, yes."
"I find it all absolutely fascinating," he whispered, sitting back in his seat with a look of awe on his face. "And Rufus... what a marvel he is. I could never do what he does."
Rosalind arched a brow. "Why not? You believe in ghosts."
"Well, yes," Reggie said, a frown creasing his forehead. "But Rufus has a knowledge of their existence that extends far deeper than my mere belief ever could."
They fell into an awkward silence, but Elphi didn't attempt to break it because she didn't know how to reply without divulging information Rufus wouldn't want shared; otherwise, he would have done it himself. And Rosalind seemed bound and determined to ignore Reggie the rest of the way to Madame Morrissey's.
Within a few minutes, it became clear that Reggie was at a loss for any other topic to discuss before they arrived at their destination.
The instant the carriage stopped, Reggie said, "I'll return in ninety minutes, as we agreed, darling."
Rosalind grumbled under her breath and all but jumped from the vehicle, dragging Elphi behind her before she realized what was happening.
Elphi glanced at Rosalind from the corner of her eye as they sailed into the dress shop and quietly said, "Was it something he said or did this time?"
"Both," Rosalind whispered. Then, releasing Elphi's hand, she glided over to a table display of delicate lace and waited for Elphi to join her before softly adding, "I know he thinks he means well... but he's being too attentive."
"Isn't that a good thing when you're expecting?"
Rosalind gave Elphi a look. "He's suffocating me, and if he isn't careful, it will be the death of him."
"You don't mean that."
Rosalind scrunched her nose and curled her lips, disgruntled. "I know. But I certainly thought about it today, and you'd be surprised at how vivid my imagination has become since..." she motioned to her still flat stomach.
"Ah, Lady Keating, punctual as always," Madame Morrissey sang out as she stepped from behind a curtain, carrying a bundle of loose fashion plates. "And Lady Treadway, it is a pleasure to see you again. Have you reconsidered the emerald silk I showed you last week? It would look marvelous on you. Simply divine."
Elphi stood paralyzed, words stuck to the back of her throat, and tingles of sensation raced up and down her body. She looked to Rosalind for help, knowing in her current emotional state that if she tried to answer Madame Morrissey herself, she would begin weeping.
"Yes, she has," Rosalind said to Madame Morrissey. She smiled at Elphi as she wrapped her right arm around her shoulders in a tender embrace. "She would like it made into a gown for the Raycraft Ball in a few weeks... unless that's too short notice?"
Madame Morrissey hesitated, then said, "No, we've plenty of time, My Lady."
Elphi blinked away a sudden rush of tears and swallowed, inwardly telling herself not to fall apart.
Somehow over the next thirty minutes, she even managed to nod and smile when appropriate while Rosalind and Madame Morrissey leafed through fashion plates until they found the one Rosalind declared, "Would do both Elphi and the emerald silk justice."
An hour after leaving Rufus and Elphi's home, Roderick went to his club and attempted to distract himself by reading the paper.
He sat in his second favorite overstuffed leather chair—his first favorite was already occupied by the Earl of Granston when he arrived.
And while he was in the mood for a good, bare-knuckled fight, he didn't fancy one over a blasted chair.
So he'd retreated to the next best option where he might sit and agonize over the veritable fool he'd made of himself in front of Rufus and Elphi. He still had no idea what had possessed him to confess to being in love with a married woman.
Unless he'd literally been possessed by jealousy. He'd felt the invisible green-eyed monster sink its fangs in him when he'd noticed how blissfully happy and content Rufus and Elphi were.
It was the only thing that made sense because, in the past four years since falling for Rosalind, that was the first time he'd ever admitted his feelings for her aloud.
And by doing so, he'd breathed life into them, made them impossible to ignore or cram back into the shadowed corners of his heart where they'd resided before.
His situation could have only worsened if he'd revealed Rosalind's identity.
Roderick clenched his teeth and heaved a sigh, disgusted with himself, then snapped his paper and tried for the six-hundredth time to focus on reading but only made it through one sentence before the words bled into each other and lost all meaning.
"Ah, Matson, just the man I was hoping to find," Reggie called out, drawing Roderick's attention as he strode into the room and handed over a dripping wet umbrella to the footman.
Roderick closed his eyes and bit back a groan. Had he really thought the only way his situation could worsen was by revealing Rosalind's identity? He was wrong.
"Afternoon, Keating," Roderick murmured, mentally searching for any excuse to leave before being sucked into conversation.
He folded the newspaper and set it on the side table next to him just as Reggie plunked down in the chair facing him with a heart-heavy sigh and said, "I could use some of your sage advise, old boy."
Roderick scooted to the edge of his seat, preparing for a hasty escape. "I was just about to—"
"I'm losing her... or maybe I already lost her, and I was just too blind to notice until now, but either way, I don't know how to fix it." He doffed his hat, set it atop the newspaper on the side table, then leaned forward and cradled his face in his gloved hands. "Everything I do only seems to push her further away."
Roderick stared at Reggie, a man he'd known for the past seventeen years, and realized that not once in all that time had he ever seen him in such a miserable state.
It tugged at his heartstrings, and he felt compelled to help, but if there was one thing he knew with blinding clarity, it was that he was not someone who should offer Reggie words of marital advice.
"What happened?" He asked, wanting to take back the words the instant they escaped his traitorous lips.
Reggie straightened in his chair and shook his head as he heaved a sigh and removed his gloves, setting them by his hat on the table. Then, staring past Roderick's right shoulder, he held silent for a few minutes before quietly saying, "Women are a terrifying and confusing species sometimes, aren't they?"
Roderick grunted in agreement and settled back into his chair, hoping that would be the end of what had almost been an awkward conversation.
But it wasn't.
They watched the rainstorm howl against the windowpanes in silence for forty-four minutes.
And then Reggie quietly asked, "Hypothetically speaking, if you were a married woman, would it make you unhappy to hear your husband tell you he adores you?"
Roderick arched a brow, tempted to ask what he'd been thinking about for the past several minutes that would prompt such a question, then decided against it. The inner workings of Reggie's mind were better left unknown. "Isn't that what every woman wants to hear? That she's loved and adored by her husband?"
"Is that a no?"
"Yes, it's a no."
A few minutes of silence passed before Reggie asked, "What if he sends you bouquets of your favorite flowers?"
Roderick bit back a confused grin and gave the matter serious thought. "Are they in celebration of an event, or has the devil done something he's making amends for?"
Reggie shrugged. "Sometimes celebratory; usually, it's simply because he knows you love this particular flower."
"Then I see no harm in it."
Reggie nodded and pursed his lips before saying a few minutes later, "How about buying you special jewelry he's seen you admire."
"Personally, I've never cared much for jewelry, but I would appreciate the thought."
"Fair enough... would it bother you if he brought you your favorite shawl when there's a chill in the air?"
Roderick shook his head, "No. On the contrary, I would find him very considerate for anticipating my needs."
"Perhaps you'd mind sharing that opinion with Rosalind?" Reggie murmured. He leaned his right elbow on the armrest, started scraping his thumbnail against his thigh, then cleared his throat and looked at Roderick through his lashes. "How about receiving compliments? Would they distress or vex you?"
Roderick hesitated now that he understood what, or more precisely, who, they were discussing. "Are you—I mean, is my hypothetical husband—sincere when giving them?"
"Absolutely."
"Then no... I would be pleased to receive a sincere compliment every now and then," Roderick quietly said.
Reggie's lips curled in a ghost of a smile. "I've always admired how dependable and honorable you are, Matson. I'm fortunate to call you friend."
"Thank you," Roderick murmured as guilty heat stained his cheeks. "But I'm unworthy of such high praise."
Reggie scoffed and checked his pocket watch, then muttered a curse. "You've given me much to think about; I appreciate you allowing me to bend your ear. Now I best be off to collect Rosalind and Melphia at Madame Morrissey's."
Standing, he gathered his hat and gloves and met Roderick's gaze. "I told Rosalind I'd be there with the carriage five minutes ago—hopefully, she isn't worrying. You know how she is regarding punctuality; Doctor Norris said anxiety isn't good for women in her condition."
Roderick's heart thumped painfully against his ribs at the sound of Rosalind's name and then plummeted to his toes when the rest of what Reggie said sank in.
"What condition?" He choked out, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut.
"You haven't heard?" Reggie's lips curled in a joyful grin as he settled his hat on his head, looking every inch the proud future parent when he said, "Rosalind is with child."