He took her cold, limp hand and kissed it. He was gone before she could even absorb what he had said about being her fiancé.
Chapter Thirty
After her shocking conversation with the Earl of Ferncliffe, Pamela felt so weak that she could barely ring the bell to summon a servant. She sat numbly, and only the arrival of her friends prevented her from throwing herself upon the carpet and howling with misery.
Abigail and Marjorie fussed over her until she thought she would scream. They didn't for a minute accept the explanation that the Earl had come for the express purpose of riding with them and that she had suddenly been taken ill, but they held their peace.
The Earl had either broken off the engagement, or had told her that he wanted to marry her immediately. Might she have done something she oughtn't? Whatever was going on, it was too delicious. They simply had to bide their time to learn all.
The Earl was in the study with her aunt for at least thirty minutes. Every time Pamela rose to go in the room and demand that they tell her what was going on, she was pressed back into her seat by either of the two sisters, and forced to drink more chocolate.
Finally, she heard the Earl taking his leave of her aunt, along with the older woman's twitterings of delight.
Pamela was confused. How could her aunt sound so happy after what the Earl had told her about Bertie not being her father's heir after all?
Her aunt came bursting into the room, still wearing her wrapper and her curling rags under her flouncy cap. She was so delighted with the news, she could not restrain herself.
"My dear, I always knew you would do well for yourself. The Earl has offered for your hand. Go upstairs right now and choose your best gown for this evening. The Gossards are his special friends. He will be making the announcement of your engagement at their ball this very evening at the stroke of midnight."
Abigail and Marjorie squealed with delight and hugged and kissed Pamela. She, however, sat there numbly.
"But he never even asked me. How can he-"
"Asked YOU? Lawks, he asked my permission. That is enough."
They all began to titter again about the gowns, the jewels, the honor, her luck.
Pamela found her voice at last. "No, Aunt Susan, that is not enough. What do we really know about the Earl? About what I can expect as his wife? Has no one been listening to me these past few weeks? Just because we helped him redecorate does not mean I love him and wish to marry him."
"To be sure, girl, what else did you think his intentions were?" her aunt said, staring at her in horror. "Did you think you could dance the first and second dances with him at the Upper Rooms in Bath, and flirt with him so outrageously, and not get your name linked with his? How can you be such a simpleton? Or are you really much more clever than you're letting on?"
Her aunt practically winked at her. She could see her two friends looking at her with feline expressions, and rose from her seat stiffly.
"You are correct, of course, Aunt. I set out to catch myself a husband, and got exactly what I deserved," she said with a brave lift of her chin, cursing herself for her foolishness once more. "Now, if you don't mind, I shall take your advice, and go upstairs to pick my gown. Will you please come with me, Aunt? I should like your opinion."
Abigail and Marjorie both said, "We would be only to happy to help, Pamela."
"No, really. That is too kind. You can help me dress this evening. I would not like to deprive you of your ride. It is a fine morning. I am sure there will be many interesting people abroad."
The sisters' eyes gleamed again.
Abigail said, "Well, if you're sure."
"I am. Off you go. And pray make my excuses when you pay your calls this afternoon. I shall rest for my grand evening tonight."
The girls scurried off delightedly. Pamela had no doubt that the news of her so-called engagement would be all over the Ton by noon.
But that was the least of her worries. She didn't give a fig what any of these people thought of her, not any more. Far more important was to find out what the Earl had been talking about when he had told her that Jonathan had been a fortune hunter who had disinherited her stepbrother and was throwing all of them out into the road.
Surely her behavior at Bath could not have provoked such appalling conduct, now could it? Jonathan had been angry. But vindictive? Greedy? Her head swam just thinking what a lucky escape she had made if he really had been after her money all along.
He had first turned up when her father was dying. Swooping like a vulture? The swine...
Her head swum with the enormity of it all. Jonathan must have discovered the legal loophole which would award him the estate, and had pursued her, pretending to care, when what he really wanted was her fortune to maintain the establishment.