by Rose Pearson
“There is an explanation,” he replied hoarsely, still not lifting his head. “Not a good explanation, I will admit, but one nonetheless.” His heart broke as he recalled the way Miss Crosby had looked at him, aware of how she had appeared both angry and utterly shocked. “It was only because of what I felt for Miss Crosby that I was prevented from taking my revenge.”
“Revenge?”
The word sounded brash and hard on Lord Havisham’s lips, making Daniel look up. Lord Havisham was looking at him in confusion, his brows low.
“I am the very worst of men,” Daniel admitted as though this was an explanation. “I shall tell you all everything, I swear to you.” His guilt piled high upon his shoulders, and he knew that even in speaking about what he had done, he would not be able to remove it from himself. “And if Miss Crosby will not come with you, then tell her to seek out and speak to a Mrs. Laurencekirk.”
“Mrs. Laurencekirk, Lord Ruddington?” Lady Smithton’s voice was sharp, her eyes narrowing as he glanced up at her. “Someone else you have sought to treat poorly?”
He shook his head, not reacting to the sharp jibe. “No, indeed not, Lady Smithton,” he replied without anger. “Someone I have sought to aid, although I have gone about it in the most dreadful of fashions.” Quickly, he gave the address and turned away from Lady Smithton, not having even a smidgen of hope that Miss Crosby might be convinced by his words. There was so much pain now, so much brokenness. He would not blame Miss Crosby if she did not so much as want to see him again, never mind discover the truth about his actions and his intentions.
His head still low, he walked towards the front door of the house, seeing the butler melt out of the shadows as he did so. Had any of the staff overheard what had been said? Had any of them seen himself and Miss Marks? He had to hope that they had not, for any rumors about Miss Marks would make things all the worse for her.
“Your carriage is waiting for you, Lord Ruddington,” the butler said, handing him his hat and gloves. “Lord Havisham, allow me to collect your things also.” He stepped away for a moment, leaving Daniel and Lord Havisham standing together.
“To Whites, I think,” Lord Havisham grunted, making Daniel turn his head and look at the man in surprise. “I can recognize when there is a deep, painful burden on a man’s heart, Lord Ruddington. I am not at all suggesting I agree with anything that you have done, or that I am content with your actions, but I think it would be best to fortify yourself a little before you return home.” A small glimmer appeared in his eye. “A sorrowful man can sometimes be inclined to behave in ways that bring more pain to himself thereafter, should he be left alone to dwell in his regrets.”
Daniel swallowed, aware that he did not deserve a modicum of understanding from Lord Havisham and yet appreciating it greatly.
“Thank you,” he muttered as the butler reappeared with Lord Havisham’s things. “I would be glad of it.” The thought of returning home, of losing himself in darkness and sorrow, to linger on in his thoughts about his shame and regret, would, mayhap, render him so disillusioned that he might act unwisely. No, better to remain in company and to consider what he had done in Whites rather than sitting at home alone.
“And you will come to Lady Smithton’s when she requests it of you and will not seek to leave London or any other such foolish endeavor,” Lord Havisham added as if this were an expectation and not a choice. “Do you understand, Lord Ruddington?”
Daniel nodded, closing his eyes for a moment as the vision of Miss Crosby’s white face and horrified eyes came back to his mind yet again, the sharpness of it stealing his breath. “I will,” he agreed, praying silently that Miss Crosby might not reject him entirely, even though he fully deserved it. He would remain in London until Lady Smithton sent for him with the small, flickering hope that Miss Crosby might be there also. “I will tell you everything, Havisham, although you will not find any goodness in me thereafter.”
Lord Havisham gestured towards the door, his lips pulled thin, and his mouth set hard. “That may be so, but Lady Smithton is right when she says Miss Crosby will require an explanation, Lord Ruddington. Whether it comes directly from your lips or from Lady Smithton, Miss Crosby will need to know the truth else she will never be able to settle her distraught spirits.”
“I would not have her any more distressed than at present,” Daniel said aloud as he made his way towards his carriage. “But I would only have her understand my reasons for behaving as I did.” Again, she came to his mind, tormenting his heart once again. “Although I will never have her forgiveness, I am certain of it. She is gone from me, and it is entirely my own doing.” Lord Havisham said nothing to this remark, making Daniel wonder if the gentleman agreed with his statement. His heart broke as he sat back in his carriage, his eyes closing as another wave of regret slammed into him, breaking apart as it did so. Glad for the darkness that hid his expression from his companion, Daniel leaned his head back against the squabs and gave in to all he felt, his expression one of sheer agony as he let the pain hit him again.
Had he let his family down? In choosing not to fulfill what had long been his intention, had he brought shame on his family? There would never be justice now, would never be contentment or satisfaction. There would always be this long, lingering regret, this pain and this sorrow that had brought with it such dreadful consequences.
“This Mrs. Laurencekirk,” Lord Havisham began, his voice breaking the quiet as he settled into his seat. “I confess I am curious to know who she is, Lord Ruddington. Why is she important? Why ask Miss Crosby to seek her out? Does she have some explanation you cannot give?”
Opening his eyes, Daniel hesitated, feeling the carriage jolt as it began to roll forward. “She does not know everything,” he told Lord Havisham. “But she will be able to tell Miss Crosby who she is to me and why there is such enmity in my heart towards Lord Britton and his family.”
“Enmity?” Lord Havisham repeated, sounding surprised. “I thought you cared for Miss Marks.”
A snort left Daniel before he could prevent it. “No, I care nothing for Miss Marks,” he told Lord Havisham honestly. “And my consideration for Lord Britton is that he is nothing more than a selfish, arrogant gentleman who cares only for himself and the reputation of his family.” He shook his head furiously. “No, indeed, Lord Havisham, I have nothing but anger towards Lord Britton.”
“Then why court Miss Marks?” Lord Havisham asked, confused. “No, wait a moment. This Mrs. Laurencekirk. Who is she? Why is she of such importance?”
Daniel let out a long slow breath, thinking of the fair lady and feeling the familiar sting of pain enter his heart. Pain that he had not been able to come to her aid at the very time she had needed him. Sorrow that he had been able to do nothing to take away her shame. Anger that there had been no consequences for the perpetrator.
“Mrs. Laurencekirk is my sister,” he said slowly, hearing Lord Havisham’s swift intake of breath. “My dear, dear sister, who is the kindest, gentlest soul you might ever have the chance to meet.” He swallowed hard, pushing down his rising sadness. “And the one who can explain things to Miss Crosby, if she chooses not to come to speak with me. I can only pray a part of her will understand and she will not look on me with anger for the rest of her days. Aside from that, Lord Havisham, I have no hope. There is no regret within me, no anger that I did not do as I had planned, for now that I look back upon my actions and my intentions, I can see I would have wronged Miss Marks in a way that would have stained my soul for the rest of my days. And yet, even though I turned from it at the last moment, even though Miss Marks is now returned safe to her parents, there is nothing but sadness lingering upon my heart. I have done a great wrong, and I do not think she shall ever be able to forgive me.” He did not say more but chose to look steadfastly out of the window into the darkness. Darkness that seemed to reach out towards him, coming closer to him and entering his very soul.
Chapter Twelve
“Good morning, Sophia.
”
Sarah’s cousin frowned, her bottom lip pressed forward petulantly. “I believe I have asked you to refer to me as ‘Miss Marks,’ Sarah,” she said pointedly. “And now—”
“There is no reason for me to do so,” Sarah replied with a firm resolve. “You and I are equals, are we not? You may look down upon me for being your companion, but the truth is, Sophia, both our fathers hold a title and, as such, we are both expected to behave in a certain fashion.” She arched one eyebrow, refusing to do as her cousin demanded any longer. “And given your behavior last evening, Sophia, I do not think you can force a certain level of respect from me.”
Again, Sophia’s lip jutted out, but she said nothing. Looking away from Sarah, she turned her head away as well as though she did not want to be reminded of what she had done.
“You behaved very foolishly indeed, Sophia,” Sarah continued, aware of how painful this was for her to say but choosing to speak these words regardless. “I cannot understand why you would do such a thing. You know very well that your father had already encouraged the match between yourself and Lord Ruddington. Why would you choose to elope with him?”
Sophia sighed, shrugged, and spread her hands. “Because it was exciting,” she said with all the childishness Sarah had come to expect of her. “That is all. You need not think I cared for him in any way if that is what troubles you.”
Sarah tried not to roll her eyes at this, thinking that her cousin was supremely foolish with her behavior and her considerations. “You could have brought ruination to both yourself and your family,” she stated, angrily. “Your father and mother would have had to bear the shame of your behavior, for even if you had returned to them married, there would have been questions as to why you had done such a thing. The rumor mills would have been filled with naught but you for the next few months!” She shook her head, seeing how her cousin’s cheeks paled. “I shall have to inform Lord Britton of this.”
Sophia’s eyes flared, her cheeks devoid of color. “Oh, please do not do so, Sarah!” she exclaimed, half rising from her chair such was her evident fright. “I cannot have my father knowing about it! It was a mere mistake, that is all! I shall know not to do such a thing again.”
Sarah grimaced, shaking her head. “I cannot trust that from you, Sophia.”
“I shall do everything you say without question,” Sophia answered desperately. “I shall reform myself completely, should you demand it! I will not let a single word you say fall to the ground, Sarah, truly. Only please do not say a word to my father. He will be furious with me and may never allow me to come to London again.”
Sarah let out her breath slowly, seeing her cousin appeared truly contrite but wondering whether or not it was something that could be trusted. Her cousin was flighty, foolish, and proud, and nothing Sarah did ever made a difference. Although mayhap now, now that Sophia had done something that could have brought about many consequences, Sarah might have some leverage.
“This is your only opportunity to prove it, Sophia,” she answered, slowly, seeing how her cousin began to nod fervently. “If there is even a question over something in your behavior, I shall have no hesitation in speaking to Lord Britton.”
Sophia swallowed hard and slowly sank back down into her chair, her face a little gray and her breathing ragged. Surprised her cousin appeared to be so afraid of what would follow should her father know of what she had done, Sarah watched her for a few moments longer before making towards the door.
“I have a visit to make, Sophia,” she said, turning her head to see her cousin staring after her. “I know you must be tired after last evening and I beg you will forgive me for abandoning you, but I have something of the greatest importance I must now do.”
Sophia nodded quickly, her expression slowly relaxing from the agonized tension that had run through her only moments before. “But of course,” she said hoarsely as though this held no concern. “You must do as you are required.”
“You will not struggle with my lack of company?” Sarah asked, seeing Sophia shake her head. “I shall be some time, I am afraid.”
“I have no engagements this afternoon,” Sophia answered quickly. “I said to Mama that both she and I needed to rest before this evening’s ball and she quite quickly agreed.”
Nodding, Sarah allowed herself a small smile. “Then I shall return later, Sophia. Good morning.”
“Good morning,” her cousin replied faintly as Sarah left the room, pulling the door behind her. She hurried towards her bedchamber, ready to make her way to Mrs. Laurencekirk’s abode. Her stomach was twisting itself in knots, but Sarah gave it no notice. After what had happened last evening, she had been so tormented by thoughts and struggles within her mind that she had barely been able to sleep. Even now, she was turning over the events of last evening in her mind, trying to understand what it was Lord Ruddington had done and why he had done it. Of course, her common sense told her she would not be able to find an explanation without speaking about it to Lord Ruddington first, but the thought of being in his company again was almost too great to accept. She could still remember how he had looked at her when they had first been caught, remembering how his eyes had flickered with sorrow and regret, how his expression had become tormented. He had said he had wanted to elope with Miss Marks but he had been unable to bring himself to do so—all because he had been thinking only of her. Of Sarah. She had meant more to him than whatever his intentions had been with Sophia.
Unless that was nothing more than an excuse, Sarah thought to herself, changing quickly into a fresh walking gown of light pink that added a little more brightness to her pale cheeks. Lord Britton would never grant her the carriage, and so she must walk or take a hackney to where Mrs. Laurencekirk resided. That was a way for her to discover the truth about why Lord Ruddington had chosen to pursue Miss Marks without having to speak to Lord Ruddington himself, she supposed, looking at her reflection for a moment. Whatever answers Mrs. Laurencekirk held, she had to know them so that her heart would no longer be as tormented as it was at present.
The address firmly secured in her mind and trying not to allow her anxiety to overwhelm her, Sarah set her shoulders, turned away from the mirror, and made for the door.
“Mrs. Laurencekirk?”
Sarah stared in surprise at the young lady who had risen to her feet the moment Sarah had been welcomed inside by the maid. Mrs. Laurencekirk was the very same young lady as she had seen at Lord Ruddington’s side in the bookshop that day.
“Yes?” the young lady said, frowning just a little. “I am Mrs. Laurencekirk, indeed. Might I help you?”
Sarah swallowed hard, trying to find the words to explain the reason for her visit. “I—I was asked to come here…I mean, Lord Ruddington suggested I come here in order to find an explanation for what occurred last evening,” she said, thinking this made no particular sense and yet hoping it meant something to the young lady standing before her. “I had hoped—”
“Ruddington?” the young lady asked, stepping closer to Sarah, her eyes flaring with alarm. “Has something happened to him? What? What is it?”
Sarah saw the concern in the young lady’s gray eyes and tried to smile. “There is nothing wrong particularly,” she said, thinking the young lady was incredibly striking with her gray eyes and thick blonde curls. “Although he was very insistent that I speak to you.”
Mrs. Laurencekirk did not appear to be resolved by Sarah’s words and, whilst she gestured for Sarah to sit down walked to the door to speak to the maid and have tea brought up for them, she appeared quite tense and distraught. Sarah’s heart sank to the floor, wondering if Mrs. Laurencekirk was someone truly dear to Lord Ruddington, whether she meant more to him than any other lady within London. She had not thought that Lord Ruddington was the sort of gentleman to take a widow as a mistress, but then again, she had not thought him the sort of gentleman who would try to elope with Sophia!
“Forgive me,” Mrs. Laurencekirk said tightly as she sat back down
again. “I have not even asked you your name.”
“Oh.” Sarah blushed just a little. “Miss Sarah Crosby, Mrs. Laurencekirk. I am companion and cousin to Miss Sophia Marks.”
At this, Mrs. Laurencekirk jerked violently, her eyes flaring wide and one hand pressed hard against her heart.
“I am sorry if I have upset you,” Sarah continued, slowly. “Are you acquainted with Miss Marks?”
Mrs. Laurencekirk recovered herself just a little, although she still fought to catch her breath.
“Do you mean Miss Marks, the daughter of Lord and Lady Britton?” she asked Sarah hoarsely, who nodded at once. “Oh, goodness. Pray do not tell me Lord Ruddington has involved himself with that family!”
A dark frown of confusion settled itself over Sarah’s forehead, her brows lowering and her heart beginning to beat a little quicker. “I do not want to distress you any further, Mrs. Laurencekirk.”
“But I must know,” the lady insisted, ignoring the presence of the maid as she brought in a tea tray. “You must tell me at once what has occurred.”
Sarah hesitated, waiting until the maid had left the room before she began to explain. “Lord Ruddington has been seeking to court Miss Marks,” she began, seeing how Mrs. Laurencekirk pressed her hands together, the tips pressed against her mouth. “He asked permission to court her and was given permission by her father, Lord Britton. However, last evening, instead of seeking to court her, he convinced her to elope with him.”
A gasp ripped from Mrs. Laurencekirk’s mouth, her eyes wider than ever before.
“But it was not successful,” Sarah added quickly, seeing how Mrs. Laurencekirk’s eyes filled with tears. “He and Miss Marks were discovered by myself, Lady Smithton, and Lord Havisham, all of whom can be trusted to remain silent about what they observed.”
Mrs. Laurencekirk seemed to fold in on herself at this, bending her head low as she fought for breath. Not at all sure what else she ought to do, Sarah began to pour the tea, even though it was not her duty as the guest of the house. Pouring them both a cup of tea each, she rose and held it out to Mrs. Laurencekirk who, after lifting her head, accepted it from Sarah with a murmur of thanks. As Sarah sat back down, she noted the lady’s cheeks were quite pale and even her eyes seemed to have lost some of their brightness.
