by Rose Gordon
Andrew swallowed, closed his eyes, and sank into an empty chair. Everything he believed about the rift in their relationship had been wrong. For years he’d felt guilty about what he’d done. And now he found out it had nothing to do with him at all. He was a coxcomb.
His whole body felt numb. Everything he’d done concerning Brooke was all for naught except a lot of grief for both of them. If he’d ever bothered to talk to his mother, he’d have known all of this earlier—much earlier. More importantly, he wouldn't have tried to ruin Brooke in an effort to mend their rift. His blood chilled at the thought. If this hadn’t all worked out this way, he might have never met Brooke. She was what was important now.
“Andrew,” Elizabeth said abruptly, snapping her fingers in front of his face and breaking Andrew from his trance. “I know all these revelations are shocking, but what are you waiting for? Get off your arse, go get your bride, and bring her back for a proper introduction.”
Andrew’s eyes popped open and he shook his head at his mother’s blunt words. “I suppose that wasn’t the finest first meeting,” he said dryly.
“No, and as fetching as she looked in that dressing robe, I imagine she’s quite a beauty when properly attired,” she said with a simple smile.
“That she is,” he agreed. Although, he was rather convinced she looked even better without it. Andrew rose from his chair and turned to face Gateway. “Thank you. If not for you and your idiotic scheme, I would never have met the love of my life.”
Andrew smiled at Gateway’s unhinged jaw before running out the door and saddling his horse.
Chapter 28
Brooke could hear Andrew rifling through his things. He was looking for the key to the connecting door, she supposed. Too bad for him, she’d swiped it while he was still in the hallway banging on her door like a madman.
Leaning down to where her clothes were in a heap on the floor, she scooped them up and quietly padded over to the door. She slowly opened it so as not to let it creak. She got it open far enough to slip out and she stood quietly to make sure Andrew was still digging around. He grunted and dumped over what sounded to be a container meant to hold ink pots and quills. Taking a breath, she darted out the door and headed to the main staircase. She was afraid if she tried to go down the servant’s stairs, she’d have to walk past his room, and if he left the door open, he might happen to see her.
Running down the hall, she was glad she had chosen to carry her slippers rather than wear them, because the heel on them would have made too much noise on the uncarpeted stairs. She walked down the stairs as fast as she dared, trying to go quickly but not make noise. When she got near the bottom, she heard the duke and Andrew’s mother talking about something. She almost wanted to stop to listen and try to understand why they were calling each other by their first names, but she dared not.
She walked quickly to the servants’ entrance and ran to the duke’s carriage. His coachman who looked older than Methuselah was standing close by and she bribed him to take her to her uncle’s house party.
When she climbed into the carriage, she couldn’t help but snicker at the lack of loyalty he must have for his employer if he were willing to take a bribe to use his employer’s carriage. That’s when she remembered whose carriage it was, and her humor dissolved.
She was angry with both of them, but her anger for Andrew far surpassed her anger toward Gateway. She knew Gateway was a snake. She'd heard the rumors about him and knew from just the handful of conversations they’d had that he was capable of just about anything. But she would have never believed Andrew capable of this. How could she have been so blind?
She leaned her head down and clutched her garments to her as best she could, and the tears just flowed. Not just a one or two, but a steady stream. Her life really was over now. Had she left without marrying Andrew she still could have married, but not now. Now, she was damaged beyond redemption. The worst part was in her mind, it was worth it. It was worth facing the future she would have as a spinster for the few exchanges of passion she had experienced with Andrew. He'd been so sweet and tender. Nothing could take that away. Even if he ended up being a cad in real life, she could cling to the memories when he was her Prince Charming.
It felt like only minutes in the carriage before they were pulling up to her uncle’s house. The coachman came to open the door to let her down. His eyes went wide, reminding her she was only wearing a flimsy dressing robe, which would cause a scandal if she were to be seen wearing it. She had a quick thought to what Liberty’s expression would be if she saw her wearing the dressing robe, and only the dressing robe. The image brought a smile to her face, but did not solve her problem.
“Could you do me another favor?” she asked the coachman. “I promise it will be worth your while.”
“Aye, miss,” the scraggly coachman replied as he ran his fingers through his wind-whipped hair.
She asked him to move the coach to where the other coaches were parked then go in and request that Mama meet her in the family coach.
After the man moved the coach and was on his way, Brooke peeked out and saw that nobody was about. Then she quickly climbed out of the duke’s coach and into the Bankses’ coach. Once she got settled, she made a mental note that stairs were the preferred way to get in and out of a coach and vowed to always use them in the future.
She waited mere minutes before Mama showed up with Madison in tow. She felt a pang of relief that Liberty wasn’t with them, but it was all forgotten when Mama wrapped her arms around her and the floodgates surrounding Brooke’s eyes opened once again.
Brooke looked up and met Mama’s eyes. “Take me away, please.”
Under normal circumstances, Mama would have probably told her she needed to make the best of things and insist she would have to just brazen out her troubles, but she must have read more into Brooke’s words because she turned to Madison, and said, “Go get our coachman, and please bring her a new gown.”
Madison dashed away and returned so quickly Brooke thought she must be dreaming, but she wasn’t. Mama told Madison more directions but had no idea what they were.
Brooke barely had her new gown on before the carriage was hitched and lurched forward to start their journey to London.
Long before they reached their townhouse in London, the whole story had come out. Everything about how he'd set everything up to shame her and had made an agreement that involved her losing her virtue and him gaining something, but she didn’t know what. She told Mama how she snuck out when he was busy and bribed the coachman, who, she realized, she didn’t even pay, to bring her back.
Brooke didn’t mention she secretly feared, and if she were being honest, hoped, Andrew would follow them back to London. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he showed up, nor did she trust herself to find out. As mad as she was with him about what he had done, she still knew he could be persuasive. A handful of sweet words and skillful kisses could send her back into his trap.
She walked up the stairs and through the front door of their London residence. She had no idea she would ever be happy to see the wretched inside of that townhouse, but she was.
She went upstairs, took a bath, and crawled into bed without bothering to eat dinner. She was almost asleep when there was a gentle knock at her door, followed by Mama’s skirts swishing as she came in.
Mama didn’t speak. She just sat down on the bed next to her and ran her fingers through Brooke’s hair, the way she had done when the girls were young and needed to be soothed.
Brooke fell asleep and didn’t wake up until a little before noon the next day. It wasn’t normal for Brooke to sleep so late, but given the circumstances, it didn’t come as a great surprise.
She dressed quickly before sitting down to do her hair. While brushing her hair, she decided she was going to face the day with renewed vigor. Her anger with Andrew was firmly in place.
Yesterday, Brooke had told him that she was going to go back to New York as soon as she could. When she
told Mama about the conversation, Mama hadn’t acted very accepting of the prospect. Not to say that she dismissed it, but she acted reluctant about going back to New York, which Brooke knew Mama would be.
Brooke walked down the stairs and headed to the parlor, where they had taken to eating their meals. She walked with her head down, watching her slippers peek out from under her gown with each step she took. She was so lost in her own thoughts she did not notice someone walking toward her until she collided with a male figure. Looking up, she gasped. “Papa.”
Papa wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. “We came as soon as we could pack to leave.”
“You didn’t have to,” Brooke protested.
“Yes, I did,” he told her firmly, giving her another reassuring squeeze. “You are my daughter, even if you are married. I will take care of you. Always.”
“Oh, Papa,” she cried and leaned into him.
He reached up and wiped a tear off her cheek she wasn’t aware had slipped out. “Mama told me everything. We’ll work something out.”
She knew there was nothing Papa or anyone could do to make this better, but she smiled at him just the same.
He offered her his arm and together they walked to the parlor to enjoy a late breakfast together. They filled their plates and sat down in comfortable silence. Halfway through the meal Mama came in and asked to speak to Papa in the hall for a moment. A minute later Mama came back and joined Brooke, saying that Papa had to take care of something right quick.
Mama just watched her from across the table. Her face was full of concern, but she wisely held her tongue. Papa returned shortly, looking a little distracted, but he smiled at her when he entered, then resumed his meal.
Brooke made her way through the meal and the rest of the afternoon without saying anything that didn’t need to be said. She enjoyed being able to be quiet with her thoughts without anyone pressing her to respond or getting agitated when she didn’t.
The following two days were much the same. She got up, dressed, ate, embroidered, ate, sat in the drawing room, ate dinner, then went to bed. She just moved about as if she were in a trance.
With each passing day, her anger toward Andrew intensified. He had not one time come to see her and that made her heart ache. In the end, he had used her the way he had set out to from the start.
She didn’t know why that hurt her so much, but it did. She'd told him to leave her alone and that she was leaving England, but she didn’t really mean it. She’d been upset at the time and it seemed like the easiest choice. Apparently, he believed her and it had been easier for him to forget her and move on with his life than it was for her.
That night at dinner she announced she’d like to go back to New York on the passenger ship that left the next day. At first everyone was quiet, then Mama put her fork down and asked, “Are you sure?”
Brooke nodded. There was no use waiting around the house and hoping Andrew would come to see her. If he hadn’t already, then he probably wasn’t going to. That was the kind of man he was. Just look how he’d conducted his courtship with her. They barely even knew each other a fortnight and he had snared, ruined, married, and rejected her already. If he had wanted her back, he would have done something by now. It wasn’t a great mystery as to where she was. She had as much as told him her plans.
“Do you not want to wait another week?” Mama suggested.
Brooke shook her head. Her decision was already made, and she was going to stick by it. “I know you’re disappointed your daughter will not be the great countess you’d hoped, but I cannot go on this way.”
Mama started. “Brooke, I don’t care more for your status as countess than I do for your happiness. If you'd wanted to marry a chimney sweep, I would have allowed it.” Taking note of the dubious gaze that Brooke had leveled on her, she changed tactics. “All right, I admit I reveled in the idea. But the title means nothing if you're not happy. If he had a brain in his skull, I think you two could have been happy together, but since he clearly does not, I don’t blame you. I just don’t want you to make a hasty decision.”
Brooke understood what Mama meant, but she also understood things would never be the same. In her mind, the sooner she returned to New York, the sooner she could start forgetting this whole mess.
“Tomorrow is too soon to go back,” Papa stated. “We cannot all be packed and ready to board tomorrow afternoon. It just cannot be done.”
He had a point. “I can go alone,” she said quietly.
“Absolutely not,” Papa said sternly. “I will not have my daughter sailing across the Atlantic Ocean by herself.”
“I wouldn’t be alone,” Brooke pointed out cheekily, smiling her first genuine smile in days. “There will be plenty of other passengers on board.”
“Don’t get smart with me, young lady. You would require a lady’s companion just to cross. Then, when you got there, you could not live in that house alone. It’s not done.”
“The Whitakers will still be there. As for a companion, we could hire one tomorrow. I’ve heard there are women around the docks who would be willing for such work,” Brooke said hopefully.
“Absolutely not,” Mama chimed in archly. “I know you are a married woman and know about certain things, but those women are not fit company.”
Brooke sat back in her chair and looked around the room. Then an idea occurred to her. “I could take Liberty with me.” Everyone’s eyes, including Liberty’s, impaled her and she added hastily, “Didn’t you tell Liberty if she couldn’t behave herself, she’d be boarded on the next vessel? Well, if she goes with me, she won’t have to worry about behaving herself around Mr. Grimes.” Brooke thought it was an excellent solution.
Liberty’s face made it clear she did not agree, which was fortunate for her because neither did Mama and Papa. “No,” Papa said, wiping his mouth and resting his napkin on the table. “It’s true I told her that, but she's behaved herself so far. I see no reason to send her back. Unless you want to go,” he said, looking to Liberty for an answer. When she shook her head, he sighed. “Brooke, if you want to go back, you may. I shall book your passage in the morning.”
“What of a companion or chaperone?” Mama asked, tension creeping into her voice.
Papa’s face turned a little red and he cleared his throat. “As you pointed out earlier, Carolina, she is a married woman. Therefore, she requires neither. I would prefer it if she had one, but given the choice between going alone and sharing the room with a woman from the docks, I would prefer she go alone.”
Brooke went upstairs after dinner to pack. She was taking out her trunks when Madison came in. “Do you truly mean to go?” she asked bluntly.
“Yes,” Brooke replied, taking her last ball gown and matching slippers from her wardrobe. “I cannot stay here. He has no interest in me, and you know it is only a matter of time before the scandal gets out. I’m honestly surprised it hasn’t already.”
Madison walked over to Brooke’s vanity and began to help put her things into her trunk.
“You do realize once news of this gets out that you’ll probably be returning home as well,” Brooke continued as she picked out the traveling costume she’d wear on the ship tomorrow. “I predict you’ll be only a week behind me.”
“That may be so,” Madison allowed. “But you don’t have to go, you know.”
Brooke went to her sister and wrapped her arms around her. “Yes, I do. You know I cannot stay here. I am living separate from my husband of one day. I will be publicly humiliated and ridiculed when the story breaks. Tomorrow everyone will be coming home from that house party. A day, maybe two, later everyone will be coming here trying to learn why we’re living separately. I cannot bear it.”
“Why don’t you go after him?” Madison asked quietly, trying, and failing miserably, to hide the tears in her eyes.
Brooke let go of her sister, sat on the bed, and stared at the wall. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
Letting
out a resigned sigh, she told her sister everything. Mama had assured her she hadn’t told anyone except Papa about her disaster, so she knew that Madison didn’t truly understand just how bad it was.
When she was finished, Madison slipped her arm around and pulled her into a comforting hug. “What I still don’t understand is why you cannot go to him. I mean, he did marry you, didn’t he?”
Brooke nodded. She couldn’t deny that.
“It sounds to me he tried rather hard to get you to listen to whatever foolish explanation he had, but you were too stubborn and upset to listen. Why not go tell him you’re ready to hear it now?”
Brooke’s eyes snapped up to her sister. “Go? Go where? To Rockhurst? His townhouse in London? I have no idea where he is.”
“That’s a feeble excuse, Brooke,” Madison said firmly, but not unkindly.
Brooke took a deep breath, but no amount of breathing could help her get through her next words. “I’m afraid,” she said quietly.
“Of what?” Madison asked, giving Brooke’s hand an encouraging squeeze.
“I’m afraid of rejection. He’s already rejected me once. I don’t think I can bear him doing it again.”
“Why do you think he will reject you?” Madison asked softly.
“Why wouldn’t he? He’s never professed any type of true feeling for me. He’s never said he loves me,” she said with a sniff. “If he doesn’t feel that way for me, why would he do anything but reject me? He wants whatever the duke has, not me. And I will not seek him out only to be rejected again. It hurts too much.”
“I know,” Madison cooed to her sister, trying to soothe her.
