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It was a lie, of course Hyacinth didn’t think he possessed any property, in Wiltshire or anywhere else But with any luck, her ot around to inquiring about Gareth’s nonexistent estates

“I see,” Violet murmured

Hyacinth stabbed her needle into the fabric with perhaps a touch or than was necessary, then looked down at her handiith a bit of a snarl She was an abysmal needlewoman She’d never had the patience or the eye for detail that it required, but she always kept an e room One never knehen one would need it to provide an acceptable distraction from conversation

The ruse had worked quite well for years But now that Hyacinth was the only Bridgerton daughter living at home, teatime often consisted of just her and her mother And unfortunately, the needlework that had kept her so neatly out of three-and four-way conversations didn’t seem to do the trick so ith only two

“Is anything amiss?” Violet asked

“Of course not” Hyacinth didn’t want to look up, but avoiding eye contact would surely make her mother suspicious, so she set her needle down and lifted her chin In for a penny, in for a pound, she decided If she was going to lie, she“He’s merely busy, that is all I rather admire him for it You wouldn’t wish for me to marry a wastrel, would you?”

“No, of course not,” Violet murmured, “but still, it does seem odd You’re so recently affianced”

On any other day, Hyacinth would have just turned to her mother and said, “If you have a question, just ask it”

Except then her mother would ask a question

And Hyacinth most certainly did not wish to answer

It had been three days since she had learned the truth about Gareth It sounded so dramatic, melodramatic even—“learned the truth” It sounded like she’d discovered some terrible secret, uncovered some dastardly skeleton in the St Clair family closet

But there was no secret Nothing dark or dangerous, or evenher in the face all along

And she had been too blind to see it Love did that to a woman, she supposed

And she had most certainly fallen in love with hireed to ht they had made love, she’d fallen in love with him

But she hadn’t known him Or had she? Could she really say that she’d known him, truly known the measure of the man, when she hadn’t even understood the most basic element of his character?