Where Dreams Begin(82)

Tears dropped from her eyes, and she turned away hastily. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, and fled the gallery.

Fourteen

“I don't understand,” Elizabeth said unhappily. “Is it because of something I've done, or…have you finally decided I'm unteachable? I'll try much harder, my lady, I promise—”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Holly rushed to assure the girl, reaching out to hold her hand tightly. After a sleepless night, she had arisen with bleary eyes, more resolved than ever to follow the course she had decided on. She had to, before she did things even more ill-advised than she already had. Her body felt unfamiliar to her, filled with sensations that lingered from the encounter in the summerhouse yesterday afternoon. She had never known the lure of fornication until now, never understood the power it had to ruin peoples' lives and break apart families and dissolve sacred vows. Now she knew why men and women had affairs, and why they would risk everything for the sake of them.

George wouldn't have recognized his loving, virtuous wife in the woman who had abandoned herself with Zachary Bronson. George would be horrified at what she had become. Ashamed and afraid, Holly had instructed Maude to start packing all their possessions as soon as possible. She had tried to explain to Rose, as gently as possible, that the time had come for them to return to the Taylors, and of course the little girl had been upset by the news. “But I like it here!” Rose had cried angrily, her brown eyes flooding with tears. “I want to stay, Mama. You go back, and Maude and I will stay here!”

“We don't belong here, Rose,” Holly had replied. “You know very well that we weren't planning to stay forever.”

“You said it was for a year,” Rose argued, snatching up Miss Crumpet and holding the doll protectively. “It hasn't been a year yet, not nearly, and you were supposed to teach Mr. Bronson his manners.”

“He's learned everything he needed to from me,” Holly said firmly. “Now stop making a fuss, Rose. I understand why you're unhappy, and it grieves me terribly, but you're not to trouble the Bronsons about this.”

After Rose had stormed away and disappeared somewhere in the huge house, Holly had reluctantly asked the Bronson women to meet with her in the family parlor after breakfast. It was not easy to tell them that she would be leaving the estate in a day or two. To her surprise, she realized that she would miss Elizabeth and Paula more than she would have ever expected.

“It must be Zach,” the girl exclaimed. “He's been horrid lately, as bad-tempered as a baited bear. Has he been rude to you? Is he to blame for this? I'll go see him this minute and knock some sense into him—”

“Hush, Lizzie.” Paula's compassionate gaze rested on Holly's distressed face as she spoke. “You won't solve anything by charging about and making things more difficult for Lady Holly. If she wishes to leave, she will go with our affection and gratitude, and we won't repay all her kindness by tormenting her.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bronson,” Holly whispered, unable to look the mother of her lover in the eyes. She had the awful suspicion that Paula, intuitive soul that she was, had guessed what had occurred between she and Zachary.

“But I don't want you to leave,” Elizabeth said stubbornly. “I'm going to miss you so awfully…you're the dearest friend I've ever had, and…oh, what shall I do without little Rose?”

“You'll still see us.” Holly smiled warmly at the girl, while her eyes stung with tears. “We'll remain dear friends, Lizzie, and you are welcome to visit me and Rose whenever you wish.” Feeling a choking wave of emotion rising inside, she stood and wrung her hands nervously. “If you'll excuse me, I have so much packing to do…”

She left hastily, before they could see her tears, and the two women began to talk animatedly just as she reached the threshold.

“Did Lady Holly have some sort of falling-out with Zach?” she heard Elizabeth ask. “Is that why he's nowhere to be found and she's planning to leave?”

“It's not quite that simple, Lizzie…” came Paula's careful reply.

No, it was not simple at all.

Holly tried to consider what it would be like to marry Zachary, to become his wife and plunge into his ostentatious, fast-paced life. To leave behind everything she had known…to become a different woman, really. She ached with bitter longing, wanting him with all her being, but something inside her recoiled and shrank from the prospect. She searched blindly for the reason why, to make sense of her own fear, but somehow the truth refused to crystallize. It remained diffused and chilling inside her.

Zachary had never accepted defeat before. He'd tolerated it in small doses, perhaps, always knowing that in the larger scheme of things, he would have what he wanted. But he'd never been truly vanquished, never known a real loss. Until this, the biggest loss of all. It made him feel vicious and a bit crazed. He wanted to kill someone. He wanted to weep. Most of all he wanted to laugh at himself for being a big sodding fool. In the nonsensical stories that Holly read aloud some evenings about Greeks and their amorous, carelessly cruel gods, mortals were always punished for reaching too high. Hubris, Holly had once explained. Too much prideful ambition.

Zachary knew he had been guilty of hubris, and now he was paying the price. He should never have let himself want a woman who was clearly not meant for him. What tormented him the most was the suspicion that he might actually still be able to obtain her, if he bullied and tormented and bribed her into it. But he wouldn't do that to her, or to himself.