Philip took the envelope and stared at it for several long seconds. He briefly squeezed his eyes shut, prayed his relief did not show, then forced his gaze upward from the vellum. Three pairs of eyes stared at him with varying degrees of distress. His father appeared more than a bit suspicious. Lady Sarah’s father appeared worried. And Miss Meredith Chilton-Grizedale appeared deeply troubled.

Philip broke the seal. The slight crackling of the vellum as he unfolded it echoed in the silent room. Drawing a deep breath, he lowered his gaze to the paper.

Lord Greybourne,

As you requested, I have thought upon the matter we discussed during our meeting. Indeed, I have thought about nothing else. Given the evidence you presented regarding your friend’s wife, along with your expertise and strong belief in the power of the curse, and the fact that I have suffered from a fall and the headache, I cannot deny my fear that if we were to marry, the third event would come to pass. Therefore, this letter is to inform you that I will not marry you, and for my own safety, I have taken steps to ensure I shall not be forced to do so. I apologize for the inconvenience my not coming to the church will cause you, but as you pointed out during our meeting, this is the best way. Please advise my father that I am well and safe, and that a letter from me explaining everything awaits him at home.

Lady Sarah Markham

Philip had barely finished scanning the few lines when Lord Hedington tapped his quizzing glass upon the vellum and demanded, “For God’s sake, what does she write? Is she all right?”

Philip raised his gaze and met the duke’s eyes. “Yes, your grace.”

“Then why the devil is she not here? Where is she?”

Calm descended over Philip, and he drew his first easy breath in what seemed like months. She’d jilted him. Thank God. “I do not know exactly where she is, but she does not wish for you to worry about her safety. Still, I believe the main point is that she is not here. Nor is she coming.”