“Why can you not marry her until then? If you love her, and she loves you, you should be married. It is no more complicated than that.” Jonathan had returned to his cup of tea.
“As my bride, she would be in constant danger.”
“So protect her. Miss Peaton came to us as an orphan, a school teacher at one of the grimmest, most destitute schools. She has been through troubles that privileged people like us can hardly imagine. If she is not afraid, then neither should you be.”
Gerard shook his head helplessly. No one else could understand. It was one thing to have romantic notions about love conquering all, but the reality was much more complicated than that.
“She is right to refuse to marry me.” Was his only answer. Not wanting to listen to any more rosy words of false encouragement, Gerard rose to his feet and trudged to his own rooms, where he collapsed onto the bed and stared at the window until the square of sunlight burned his retinas and he could see the window still when he shut his eyes. Numb and lifeless, he fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When another knock came to Elizabeth’s door, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and stared at the door. It had to be Gerard again. He’d come back. For a moment her spirits lifted. Yes, she would take him back, beg him to forget what she’d said. He would forgive her and tell her that he loved her. He’d kiss her and touch her cheek again.
Be strong, Elizabeth. You have to do what’s right for you.
“Elizabeth? It’s Bridget and Rosaline.”
Elizabeth sniffed, rising to her feet at the feminine voice through the door. She briefly wondered if she should just remain very quiet and wait for them to leave, assuming that she had gone out. She didn’t know if she had the strength to face the two ladies just yet.
Another knock came and Elizabeth went to open the door. She would have to talk to them eventually.
“Gerard has just told me,” Bridget said, sweeping into the room and taking Elizabeth’s hands. “What on earth happened? Has he treated you meanly? Tell the truth, if he has I shall box his ears myself.”
“It’s nothing like that,” Elizabeth said. She slid her hands away from Bridget and crossed to the forgotten tea cart. She touched the side of the teapot with the backs of her fingers. Stone cold.
“The tea is cold. Shall I send for more?” Her voice sounded thin and wavery.
How I wish to be left alone…
“Never mind tea,” Rosaline said. “You must tell us at once why you have called things off with Gerard.”
Elizabeth picked up an empty teacup, her fingers gliding aimlessly over the delicate rim as she studied the painted flowers on its side.
“I know I must seem terribly ungrateful,” she said. “After all, a woman like me, with no family and no money, should not complain if a Duke says he loves her.”
“Lizzie, we would never think you ungrateful,” Bridget said. While she had burst into the room full of energy and astonishment, now she was all softness. “We just want to understand.”
“It’s just that…” Elizabeth put the cup down and walked to the window, thrusting the curtain aside. Knowing that she had disappointed her only friends stung. “He is still holding out hope that, out of nowhere, the case will be solved and all will be well. But it’s gone on too long now. If the detective hasn’t found the culprit by now, I just don’t believe that he ever will. And Gerard is adamant that he will not marry until he can truly put Christine to rest by bringing justice to her murderer.”
Elizabeth turned around to face the ladies. “So you see, by calling off the engagement, I am not really cancelling a marriage. He did that first. I’m merely ending the charade. I must go on with my life. I cannot allow myself to be the kept woman of a man who will not make me his wife.”
Rosaline looked confused, but Bridget nodded solemnly.
“But suppose we could change his mind?” the Duchess asked tentatively. “Do you not love him?”
A lump formed in Elizabeth’s throat and tears threatened to spill from her eyes again. “I love him more than anything in the world. More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. He has made me so very happy.”
Bridget surged forward, laying a comforting hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “There, see? Love is all that matters. He loves you, and you love him. So of course you must be married. I will convince Gerard that he should put aside everything else to make you his Duchess. It simply must be. I can’t bear to see my brother and my friend making themselves so unhappy.”
Elizabeth took a shuddering breath. She was tired of crying, but she couldn’t stop. “No. No, because he isn’t wrong. He loved Christine. He loves her still. I cannot ask him to choose between myself and her. It is not wrong for him to love her and to fight for her. He is a good gentleman. He’s doing the right thing.”
Rosaline patted Elizabeth’s back and Bridget shook her head. “You are too selfless, Lizzie. But what will you do now?”
“As soon as I can pull myself together, I am going to place an advertisement. I shall find some other family who has need of me. I’ll begin again.”
“Don’t be silly, you must come back to Stonehill. Your position is, as yet, unfilled. Thomas misses you. We all do.”
“No,” Elizabeth chuckled mirthlessly. “I couldn’t bear to live under the same roof with him again. It would hurt too much to see him every day. I must get away.”
“Oh Lizzie. How can I convince you not to do this?”
Elizabeth straightened up and turned away from the ladies again, going back to the window. “I must do what I think is right. Just as His Grace must do what he thinks is right.”
“Perhaps she’s right,” Rosaline said softly to Bridget. “If Gerard is not ready to marry, he should not have asked her. Perhaps this was all a mistake.”
“Not you too, Rosaline.” Bridget sounded absolutely defeated.
“Well, neither of them wants to change their minds, so we should leave them be. Come on, we should leave her in peace.” Rosaline grasped Bridget’s arm. “We are sorry for disturbing you, Elizabeth. But we will respect your wishes, won’t we Bridget?”
Bridget scoffed, looking with astonished eyes from Rosaline to Elizabeth and back again. “This is madness! They are in love! They should be married!”
“It’s not that simple,” Elizabeth said weakly.
“She’s right. It’s not that simple. Come, let us return to Stonehill before it gets dark. If you must pester them further, you can continue on another day.”
Bridget sighed heavily, wrapping her shawl tighter around her. “I am not satisfied with this turn of events. I think you and Gerard both are being stubborn and silly, for nothing.”
Elizabeth did not respond.
“I will go home now. But Lizzie, if you come to your senses and change your mind, please say so at once.”
Elizabeth gripped the back of a chair and raised her chin. Despite the watery feeling that precluded more tears, she stood firm as she said goodbye and the two ladies left.
Alone again, she sank into a chair, leaning her head against the back of it and closing her eyes.
Am I making a terrible mistake?
The next day, Elizabeth slept until the sun was high in the blue sky and the inn was awake with noises. She turned over, pulling the blankets over her head. She had gotten used to the comfort of such a large and expensive bed, with soft blankets and silky pillows. She snuggled her nose against the pillow, knowing that soon these comforts would be gone. Once again she would be relegated to a cramped room off of a wealthy family’s nursery.
She would have to begin from scratch with new children, learning their quirks and habits and formulating schemes to train them into polite behavior without losing their trust. She would have to take up her quill again to devise tailored lessons for each child, keeping careful record of their growth and progress.
She would have to get to know another set of servants. Another set of well-to-do relatives. Another set of rules.
She groaned, heaving her body up and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. Her head was groggy and she dreaded looking at the clock to see how late she had slept. Trying not to think about the previous day’s events, she went about getting dressed in a mechanical way, focusing only on what she needed to get done that day.
I will place an advertisement in the papers. Once that is done, I can come back here and get back into the bed. Just do this one thing, Elizabeth.
Fully dressed in her simplest black gown, she seated herself at her desk and wrote out the advertisement that she would place. She’d only done this once before, and she tapped her quill anxiously on the table as she agonized over the wording.
“Governess Seeking Position: trained in Latin, French, and all other required subjects. School teacher background. Recommendations upon request. Can start immediately. Miss Elizabeth Peaton, Queen’s Garden Inn.”
Well, it was good enough. The references bit was somewhat of a gamble. She’d not actually brought up the issue of getting a recommendation letter from Bridget, and she worried that the Duchess may not be eager to aid Elizabeth in finding a new position. Hoping that she knew Bridget well enough to know that she wouldn’t do anything to actually hinder Elizabeth’s plan, she folded the paper and slid it into her reticule.
Heading out into the street, she blinked in the bright sunlight. The cheeriness of the weather seemed painfully at odds with the stormy emotions inside her as she picked her way down the street towards the newspaper office.
The creeping feeling of being watched was still there, but it was not as pronounced that day. Having severed herself from Gerard, she knew that the threat would now dissipate in time. Once the perpetrator caught wind of the fact that she was no longer with him, it stood to reason that they would lose interest in her. She would have her life back, and not need to look back over her shoulder with every few steps.
The newspaper office was a tumult of activity. The scent of ink and broadsheet paper accosted her as soon as she stepped in. She stood there in the entrance for a moment, dumbfounded, before catching the eye of a young man who looked up at her over his spectacles.
“Can I help ya, Miss?” he asked, approaching her.
“I need to place an advertisement,” she said, fishing the paper from her reticule and handing it to him. The man seemed old for his age, smooth, ink-stained hands belying a certain weathered weariness about his eyes.
“A governess. All right then. I’m sure we can have this printed within the week. Space is limited, you understand,” he said, tossing the paper onto a pile on his desk.
“Fine, I understand. Thank you very much.”
“And good day to ya, Miss Peaton,” he said, dismissing her in so many words as he pushed his spectacles up on the bridge of his nose and returned to whatever it was he had been doing before she came in.
With her task completed, she wandered idly back towards the inn. There were still coins in her purse, but she didn’t feel right spending the money that Gerard had given her now. Not when he was already being so kind as to continue to pay for her lodging after what she had done.
She wondered what he was doing just then. Was he angry? Was he melancholy? Or was he even thinking of her at all? Likely, he was wrapped up in playing detective, having been freed from the need to worry about her needs.
It felt odd to not be waiting for him anymore. The silence in her room felt more final, more definitive. The loneliness pressed in against her and she did not even attempt to read or pick at her embroidery. Immediately, she loosened the laces of her gown and peeled off her stockings. She laid in bed, atop the covers, and closed her eyes. There was nothing to do but wait for her life to begin again.
* * *
“Uncle, will you play toy soldiers with me?” Thomas asked, running down the long corridor to catch up with Gerard as he headed towards the garden. Rosaline followed behind Thomas at a slower pace, smiling gently.
“Not today, Thomas. I’m not feeling well.” Gerard said.
“Are you ill?” the boy asked. Rosaline had caught up now and she laid a gentling hand on Thomas’ shoulder.
“I, uh…”
“Uncle Gerard isn’t feeling himself today because of a grown-up problem, darling. He’s not ill. I did warn you that he probably was not in the mood to play today.”
Her placating smile annoyed Gerard. It was bad enough that he had been so soundly rejected by Elizabeth, but it was made worse by the fact that everyone knew about it. He hated the pitying silence that fell over the table during meals. He detested the concerned, disingenuous smiles. The way they pressed their lips together, not knowing what to say to him.
His mood vacillated between despair and anger so quickly and unpredictably that he had been doing all within his power to keep away from the child, who was too young to understand.
Thomas sighed, looking downtrodden.
“I believe your father is in the library, Thomas. Why don’t you run along and see if he will play with you today?” Gerard fought to keep his voice airy and casual. He longed, more than anything, to just be left alone. Pretending that he was not in pain when he felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest was not something that he was good at.
“All right,” The boy mumbled, and with his head hung low he continued down the corridor.
Rosaline cast Gerard a sympathetic glance before following the boy, and Gerard stalked on towards the garden. Hopefully, there no one would bother him.
He cursed the sun when he stepped outside. Its cheery golden rays mocked him. The blooming flowers seemed to flourish just to spite him, to throw their success and beauty in his face. He wished he were home in Hadminster. There, at least, he could tilt his head back towards the sky and let free the cry of frustration and disappointment that now lodged itself painfully in his throat. Bound by convention, and the need to be a pleasant house guest, he swallowed the despair and paced around the grounds.
His feet carried him along swiftly. He had not been able to stop moving since leaving Elizabeth for the last time. He felt as though he were being chased, and that if he stopped, the full weight of all that he had lost would come crushing down upon him at once. So he walked. He laced his hands behind his back and kept his face trained to the ground. The sun beat down on his waistcoat and warmed his back as he stared at his hunched shadow.
When another shadow appeared next to his, he looked up to find Rosaline joining him. He wanted to send her away, and was about to open his mouth with a rebuff, but he was able to stop himself. He remembered hearing about the reputation he had gotten for being rude and unkind, and how it had stung him to hear such words used to describe him.
“Gerard,” Rosaline said simply, standing next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. It reminded him of how she had done the same with little Thomas. Was he no more than a disappointed child?
“We can all see how you are suffering. And I wanted to tell you that everyone wishes there was something we could do to ease your pain.”
“Thank you,” he said, wondering if he sounded gruff.
“You know how dearly we all care for you,” she continued. Her hand slid from his shoulder down his arm, until she was slipping her hand into his. “How dearly I care for you.”
“Yes, I know,” he said, taking his hand away and lacing his fingers behind his back again. “I’m very grateful for the support. It is good to know that while the outside world may heap shame upon a man who loses so soundly the affections of his fiancée, those near to me do not bear that same judgement.”
She tilted her head to the side, her dangling pearl earrings catching the light of the sun. “Do you really believe that anyone would blame you for ending an engagement to a governess? No one would assume that it was she who ended it.”
Gerard’s eyebrows furrowed. “That society is so closed-minded as to assume something like that brings me little comfort, Rosaline. It was never my intention that any of this should reflect poorly on Miss Peaton.”
Rosaline smiled. “Of course. You are too good to take any comfort in that. I should not have said it. May I walk with you?”
Gerard gave her a tight smile. The last thing he wanted was to try and force small talk for a moment longer, but he could not find a way to politely decline.
“I wanted to tell you how excited I was when I heard that you were returning from Hadminster. It had been so long since we had seen each other last. I missed you all those years, you know.”
“I missed you, too,” he answered blankly as they took to walking side by side. He had to slow down his pace to match hers and he found the change tedious and frustrating. His irritation at the intrusion only grew with every step.
Wild Passions of a Mischievous Duchess Page 22
