Now, she sat here as an act of desperate hope. Or of unconquerable will. Or frank denial. Perhaps all three at once.
But she could not sit here further, and she would need to begin asking questions. She had not feared for his health or safety, for London was full of people, and any injuries or calamity would have been reported to her with some efficacy. Had her husband been caught up in meetings longer than he wished, he surely would have sent word to her that he would be detained.
Any other explanation was not so easily guessed, and she feared asking. Why, she could not say. It was not as though she doubted that her husband loved her, or that she doubted his faithfulness to her, or that she thought he might fall into sin somehow. She knew better than to suspect any of that.
It was precisely that she could not fathom the reason for his lateness that she feared. Something she had not imagined kept her husband from their plans, and her fear was not the sort to grip her soul and rob her of sleep. It was the sort to rid her of all emotion and return her to the blank expanse of existence she had known before all of this.
The sort that would effectively erase the joy of recent days and the love she had discovered. That would give her little to hope for and less to live for.
But what could have changed to drive her to that place?
She could not let herself imagine the worst. Not now, not when she had no reason. Her husband deserved loyalty from her and to the promises they had made. She had to keep hope that she was thinking too much, worrying excessively, or letting her imagination venture where it had no business venturing.
Swallowing, Lily pushed back her chair and rose, waving the footmen back as they stepped forward, smiled her thanks and left the room, her plate as empty and clean as when she had entered earlier. Her steps made no sound on the marble floors but somehow still echoed in the silence of the house.
The sight of the butler made her heart leap into her throat, propelling her forward with more haste. “Sutton?”
He stopped in his place and turned toward her at once. “Yes, madam. How might I serve you?”
She smiled at his usual formality. “Did Mr. Granger give any indication when he would return this evening?”
Sutton seemed to blink without actually blinking. “Mr. Granger is at home, madam.”
Lily stared at the wiry man for the space of two heartbeats. “Is he? And when did he return?”
“Two hours ago, madam. He asked that he not be disturbed.” A hint of strain appeared in the butler’s face, no doubt due to Lily’s expression.
“Did he?” she asked of no one in particular, least of all him. “And he is… in his study?”
Sutton nodded, his high brow creasing faintly. “Yes, madam. And requested a tray be brought in. It’s only just been cleared.”
So it was only dinner with Lily he was unable to sustain, then. He could eat his dinner, could shut himself in his study, but could not have a note sent to Lily to inform her of the alteration to his plans for the evening.
A spark of irritation began to ignite fully, and Lily pursed her lips in thought.
“My apologies, madam,” Sutton said in a rush, his stoic composure fading. “I was under the impression that you were aware.”
Lily smiled quickly. “Thank you, Sutton. That will be all.”
The butler did not appear convinced but bowed and continued on toward the servants’ corridors.
Lily remained in her place for a moment, her fingers rubbing together anxiously by her sides. Did she seek out her husband despite his instructions to not be disturbed? Did she presume Thomas had his reasons and leave him to them? Did she fall back on previous habits or move forward with concern and love for what might have driven him to this?
She nodded to herself, even as the thought occurred to her. She wanted her marriage to be different than it had been, and in order to do that, she needed to behave differently than she had done. She loved her husband, and if he were troubled, she wanted to soothe those troubles if she could.
Her hands became fists at her sides, and she turned on the spot, moving down the corridor toward the study. Each step was accompanied by a heartbeat, thundering in her ears and drowning out all thought and breath.
She’d endured an entire marriage filled with maintaining separation when separation was requested, and she was flying in the face of that. Every impulse within her screamed for her to run in the opposite direction and leave him to his business. Only her determination for change continued to move her forward in spite of everything.
The study was suddenly before her, and she paused, exhaling slowly. With a brisk knock, she waited, biting down on her lip.
“I am not to be disturbed,” her husband’s voice barked, though it sounded so unlike him. So harsh, so filled with anger, and lacking any politeness.
It was in her best interest to leave him to his discontent, but she could not believe it would be in the best interest of her marriage to do so. And she was doing this for her marriage, not for herself.
She turned the handle and pushed into the study despite his order.
His desk and chair faced the door, and the moment she entered, his head raised, a snarl etched into his features. He was lacking his jacket and cravat, his waistcoat was unbuttoned, and his hair was in disarray, but instead of looking like the charming miner she had discovered in Cornwall, he seemed another creature entirely.
His expression changed the moment he truly saw her, but no smile appeared. “Lily,” was all he said, something of an exhale or a sigh on her name.
Lily tried for a smile, hating this tormented version of him. “I missed you at dinner.”
He blinked, then looked at the mess of papers on the desk before him. “Apologies. Something… something came up, and it has consumed a great deal of my time. I forgot our arrangement.”
She forced herself not to think more on that statement than what was intended. “Are you all right?”
“No.” He shook his head firmly, his tongue pressing against the front of his teeth. “No, I am not. And if I cannot find solutions to this predicament, neither will be our finances.”
Money again. Concerns over business and finances taking over his attention to anything else. It was just one evening, she reminded herself. Not the remainder of their lives. One evening.
“Is there anything I can do?” she offered softly, the fists at her sides relaxing entirely and going almost limp. “Something to help or to ease your burden?”
“No.”
The answer was crisp and brusque, but neither was it particularly directed at her. He did not look up. Did not pause in his shuffling of papers. Did not acknowledge her presence further.
Her chest began to tighten, and her eyes burned. “Will I see you later?”
Now he did pause, his eyes flicking up, though not quite reaching hers. “No,” he finally said. “Nor will I join you in your bedchambers tonight. This will require all of my attention until it is resolved. I am sorry.”
Sorry? He could not have sounded less so. There was determination in his voice, but no apology. He did not look at her. The man who could summon her across a crowded room simply by his eyes alone would not look.
“Thomas,” she ground out, her voice choking a little on his name. “Look at me. Please.”
A ripple of sorts danced across his shoulders, and the papers rested a little further on the surface of the desk. Then, belatedly, his eyes raised fully to hers, and his shoulders dropped on a heavy exhale.
Lily held his gaze, keeping it as steady as her heart would allow. “No going back,” she reminded him firmly. “You promised, and I will hold you to that.”
He straightened in his chair and seemed to bristle at her words.
Good.
“Right,” he said curtly, “but I still must attend to business, particularly in a time of crisis. If you will allow me.” He indicated the papers before him, a question in his eyes, though not a particularly kind one.
Something within her s
napped.
Lily ground her teeth, something she had never been guilty of in her life. She smiled, though there was no tenderness behind it. “Very well. I apologize for disturbing you. I do hope you will spare the time for breakfast in the morning. Even before Cornwall, you could manage to show yourself there.” She inclined her head in a nod of sorts and turned from the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
Then she paused and waited, somehow still hoping he would call after her, or open the door and follow her retreat, or say something to himself that she could barely catch.
But nothing happened. Not a thing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Four days of complete silence after the bliss she had known was quite enough for Lily. She would not stay in this house in misery one moment more.
She could not.
Thomas had reverted entirely back to the man he had been before he’d invited her to London, before they’d gone to Cornwall, before they had acknowledged their love for each other. Worse than that, for now Lily knew the sort of man he could be and how things could feel between them. The loss of that beauty was worse than the lack of it, for she had not known the difference then.
Now she knew, and she could not bear it.
He had taken meals with her after that first night of whatever disaster had struck their finances, but there had been no conversation despite her efforts.
Admittedly, she had only tried that first meal. After that, she had determined that he would have to decide if he would like for their marriage to be what it had been in Cornwall, as she had made her stance clear enough.
Thus far, he had given her no indication.
They had gone to no events, which would have suited her well enough if they had embraced time together instead, but all his time was spent going over figures and finances or meeting with various men of business.
Lily did not know what the predicament was, and, at this point, she was not sure it mattered. There had been no decisions to retrench, they were not returning to Rainford, and none of the staff had been released from their employment. He had not called her to his study to inform her of the need to take her dowry and use the funds for other things, though she would not have minded a jot if that were true.
Money had never been an object of importance for her, and she was well aware that it was likely due to her always having enough at hand.
But that was what she wanted. Enough. Only ever enough. Enough to live on. Enough to stay out of the poor house. Enough to feed her family.
Not excess. Not wealth. Not status. Just enough.
But enough did not satisfy her husband, it seemed. He’d decided to love his wife when his finances were secure, and at the first hitch in that security, he had given her up to see them remedied. If it would last four days, what was to say it would not last four years?
She could not wait for him to find loving her convenient, not when she broke further day by day in her love for him and seeing it go unreturned.
So that morning, after she had finished another silent breakfast that Thomas excused himself early from, Lily had ordered her trunks packed and a carriage brought around when they were ready. She had written several notes to her friends and a lengthier one to her sister, then gone up to change from her simple morning dress into something sturdier and more suited for travel.
Staring at her reflection in the looking glass, Lily felt a calm wash over her in a gentle wave, settling her breathing and soothing her quivering heart.
This was not forever. It was simply for now. She was not leaving her husband. She was leaving London. Her husband could do as he wished, including come with her. She would welcome that.
But she would not wait for it.
Nodding to herself, she turned from her bedchambers and made her way down the stairs, her cloak over an arm, her bonnet in hand.
“Would you have the carriage brought around now, madam?” Sutton asked when she reached the bottom.
Lily adjusted her gloves, sniffing softly. “Have all my trunks been brought down?”
“I believe so.”
“Then yes, Sutton, if you would kindly have the carriage brought around and loaded, I would appreciate it.” She smiled at him, grateful for his stoicism and dedication to his servitude, knowing he would not take part in the speculation that would certainly take place below stairs once she had gone.
He bowed with a bare hint of a smile, but she would take it as a sign of understanding from him.
Another set of footsteps sounded as Sutton retreated, and Lily lifted her chin a touch, having an idea who it might be.
Thomas looked her over, his thumbs rubbing against his other fingers almost audibly. “Sutton said your trunks are being packed.”
Lily swallowed hard, nodding. “They are packed now. The carriage is being brought around.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, his eyes dropping to the floor. “And for how long?”
“Cornwall,” Lily said simply, her heart aching that this was the best interaction they’d had in a week. “It’s the last place I was truly happy. And as for how long… well, my darling, that is entirely up to you.”
His head raised slowly. “Me?”
“Come with me,” she pleaded, her voice soft. “Let’s be done with London and go.”
Her request clearly took him by surprise, his eyes going wide and his frame stilling. “You’re… you’re not leaving me?”
“Is that what you think of me, Thomas?” Her lower lip quivered, and she bit down hard, for once not aiming to distract him with the action. “If I did not leave you in the first five years we were married, I’ll not leave you in the next five. I’m leaving London, Thomas. And everything that London has done to me in the few days.”
“You mean what I have done,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “What I have done to you in London.”
Lily let the words hang upon the air, not able to refute them, but unwilling to admit them, either.
“A cotton mill was destroyed by fire,” he said, dropping his hand and putting it at his hip with the other. “One I had heavily invested in. All of the inventory is lost, the business going into full bankruptcy. I had to salvage what I could to be sure we could still invest in our other ventures, that the mines would not suffer because of it, or the shipping company, or our estates, or anything else that requires investment of capital we no longer have. I had to… there was so much…” He trailed off, his expression falling. “I couldn’t let it happen again, Lily. I couldn’t.”
“We,” Lily repeated simply, smiling sadly. “You kept saying we, but I didn’t know about any of this. You didn’t tell me what the trouble was. I have never known what it was that came between us, and I thought it was behind us. Then this…” She shook her head. “I cannot bear it again, not after Cornwall. I will not, Thomas. You cannot tell me that you love me and then shut me out of your life and say you are working for us. If we are doing anything, it would require both of us to take part. And you won’t let me.”
Thomas took two steps toward her, anguish written in his face. “I couldn’t burden you again, Lily. Not again. I couldn’t take your dowry again. I couldn’t bear to see what I’d worked so hard to repair become undone.”
“I was not speaking of money,” Lily told him, her voice raising with her emotion. “It was never about the money. I couldn’t care less about that, then or now. I just wanted you. And I wanted you to want me. But for the right reasons.”
“I always wanted you for the right reasons,” Thomas said, taking another step, his hands falling weakly to his sides. “I just went about it the wrong way. I married you for the wrong reasons.”
One tear began to trickle down her cheek “Do you regret marrying me, then?”
He shook his head, his throat working on a swallow. “No. Never. I regret why. But even with all of that… having this much of you has been better than having nothing at all.”
“So you won’t come with me?” Lily asked, feeling like
this was the farewell she hadn’t wanted.
He wanted to say yes, she could see it in his eyes. Yet he said nothing. He stared. He hesitated.
And that was answer enough.
Lily sniffed back the tears that were falling freely now. “Then I will go alone. For now. I’ll stay with Julia for a time.”
“Stay at Pendrizzick,” he ground out roughly, his voice clogged. “My offer was accepted. It is ours now.”
Wetting her lips, Lily nodded. “Thank you, and I’m sorry.”
Thomas started to extend his hands as though to take hers, then lowered them again. “So am I.”
This time, she believed the apology. And this time, he was not referring to just the matter at hand.
Lily closed the distance between them and gently pressed her lips to his cheek, then moved around him, her fingers brushing his as she passed. She closed her eyes on more tears as she reached the stairs to the first floor and began her descent, distracting herself by placing her bonnet on her head and fumbling for the ribbons.
She could do this. She could take a stand against money coming between her and her husband again. She could find a way to be at peace on her own while her husband stayed in London. She could…
She gasped shakily as she reached the bottom stair, her tears threatening to choke her. She could not leave things as they had, as though they truly were parting forever.
They both needed to hope.
“I’ll be waiting at Pendrizzick,” Lily called up, praying Thomas had not returned to his study. “Whenever you are ready to come to me.”
It was as close to a confession of love as she dared go at this moment, fearing anything further would keep her in London, when in her heart, she knew there was nothing to be gained by that.
She prayed it would be enough.
“The carriage is ready, madam,” Sutton told her from the door, gesturing faintly. “Cook has packed a basket for you.”
Lily nodded and flung her cloak around her shoulders, letting her tears continue to fall. “Thank her for me, won’t you, Sutton?”
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