Page 47 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

It did not matter that she had not yet met him, her true love. She knew he was out there.

‘I am not heartless,’ he said. ‘Your family do not approve of the match, I take it?’

‘Well,’ she said, looking away and brushing some imaginary dust from her sleeve, ‘I suppose the thing is … I do not know him, yet.’

Ashford frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I did not mean you to take me so literally,’ she said. ‘It is the opportunity of which you rob me.’

‘You do not have a prior attachment? This gentleman does not exist? He is fictional?’

‘He certainly exists,’ she snapped. ‘I have met several possibilities already.’

‘Have you? Such as?’

The scepticism in his tone and face made her wish to push him back into the tarn.

‘Well … Captain von Prett for one,’ she said boldly.

‘Captain von Prett,’ Ashford sputtered. ‘The explorer?’

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘The one who goes on and on about his tragic affairs?’

‘The one,’ Lydia corrected, ‘who is honest and brave and is not afraid to feel.’

‘Christ,’ Ashford raised his eyes to heaven. ‘Have you even met him?’

‘Once,’ Lydia admitted. ‘But there was a moment of true connection and—’

‘I wager he does not even know your name.’ He looked as if he did not know whether to laugh or begin shouting again.

‘He does,’ Lydia insisted, though she was not sure of this herself. ‘Besides, it is not about Captain von Prett. It is about what he symbolizes.’

‘You have spent a week humiliating me in favour of the symbolism of another man?’ Ashford demanded.

‘I have spent a week humiliating you in order to secure my freedom,’ she corrected.

He took in a deep inhale through his nose. ‘You will write today and inform your guardians that you have ended the engagement,’ he said with forced calm. ‘And you will leave Hawkscroft in the morning.’

‘No,’ she said.

‘No?’ he said, jaw dropping. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘If I could have cried off, do you think I should not have done it at the very beginning of the visit?’ Lydia said, irritated. ‘I cannot, because of Mildred.’

‘Who – who is Mildred?’ Ashford asked, looking about wildly as if he expected her to appear. ‘What has she to do with anything?’

‘My other aunt,’ Lydia explained. ‘She’s awful and I will be sent to live with her if I cry off. No, you must jilt me.’

He shook his head wordlessly.

‘That is the whole point of this,’ she stressed, stepping closer. ‘I thought you understood.’

‘I cannot jilt you.’

‘You just said you wanted to!’ she said indignantly, reigning in a desire to stamp her foot.