Miss Winthorpe's Elopement (Belston & Friends #1)(68)

And then he had taken it away. Given the chance, he would do so again. She must hold that thought foremost, and make sure it would not happen. The longer she stayed in this house, the more likely her heart would soften, and she would forget how it had felt to see Tim and her husband fighting for the attention of another. She would begin making excuses for it, and then all hope was lost.

She must leave while the anger was still fresh and she had the strength. With just the clothes on her back, if necessary. There was nothing holding her here but the fear of confronting him. Once it was done, she would be free. If he tried to stop her in the hall, she would push past without speaking. Let him follow her to her rooms. She would ignore him. She would slam the door in his face again, pack a valise and leave immediately.

She threw open the door, ready to cut him and walk by, but she almost stumbled. For he was not standing before her, but right there in the doorway, sitting on the rug with his legs drawn up to his chest, his back leaning against the frame.

She caught her hand against the wood to steady herself, and before she could stop, she had looked down into his beautiful blue eyes and felt the fight going out of her, as she feared it would. ‘What on earth are you doing down there?’

He blinked up at her, surprised by her sudden appearance. ‘Waiting for you to open this door. I assume you must go to your rooms at some point, but I have not been able to catch you, so I resolved to remain until you came out. I grew tired of pacing. It has been days, you know.’ There was a faint accusation in his voice, as though it were somehow her fault that he was weary.

‘I know exactly how long it has been.’ She could feel each minute since last she had seen him. ‘I would not still be here if I had managed to get my own servant to obey me. He is loyal to you, now, and will not help me move my things.’

‘You really do mean to leave me, then?’ At least he did not waste time in apologies that she would not have believed anyway.

‘Yes.’

‘I cannot say I blame you.’ He looked away for a moment, sucked in a small breath and stood up. When he turned back to face her, he had become the distant, rather polite stranger she had known in London. He gestured to the library. ‘May I at least come into the room? I’d prefer not to discuss this in the hall.’

As though there was a servant left in the house who was not aware of their difficulties. Perhaps he had forgotten how little effort he had made to hide them, when he had been shouting the details through the closed door. She almost smiled, before remembering how serious the situation was. She gestured through the open door and preceded him into the room.

He came through and shut it behind him. Then he turned to face her. His hands were folded behind his back like a penitent schoolboy. His mouth worked for a bit before he could find more words. ‘Have you given thought as to where you will go? Not to your brother, I hope.’

It would be the logical choice. Hector would take her back. But he would never let her forget the mistake she had made in leaving. ‘I do not think so.’

He nodded, obviously relieved. ‘I am concerned for your welfare, although I might not seem so. You understand that there may be a child involved as well?’

She had not thought of this fresh complication to her future. ‘I will know soon enough.’

‘And wherever you go, you will need space enough for your books.’

She looked at the shelves around her, and where she had seen friends before, now all she saw was dead weight. ‘I doubt I will be taking them. Suddenly, it seems an awful lot of bother. And without knowing what the future holds for me…’

‘No.’ There was a wild light in his eyes, and he dropped his attempt at calm. The words rushed out of him. ‘I can understand if you cannot abide my presence after what has happened, but do not tell me that you are abandoning your work because of me. There is a dower house on the grounds. You could stay there. The books could stay here. And you could visit as often as you liked.’

She considered how painful it would be to see him, and forced herself to look away. ‘I would hardly have succeeded in escaping your influence if I were visiting this house as a guest for the majority of my days.’

‘I could go from you, then.’ His voice was bleak. ‘You would have the books, and the space and quiet for your studies. I could go to London. I would not set foot upon the grounds without your permission. And I would be here no more than was necessary to run the estate.’

She stared at him. ‘Does Clarissa approve of this plan? I imagine she would like to spend more time in London.’

‘I do not know. Or care,’ he added. ‘It is a bit late to tell you now. But I only went to her to say goodbye. If it troubles you still, the thought that we might meet in secret, I could travel abroad, or stay at the property in Scotland. It is farther away.’

‘And you would leave the estate to me?’

‘I would be honoured if you would accept it.’

She was confused. ‘You love this house.’

He nodded.

‘You are different, when you are here. It is where you belong.’

‘You, as well. And if it can only be one of us in residence?’ He smiled sadly. ‘Then I wish it to be you. Without you, there would be no estate. And it is wrong that you should be banished from it for my misdeeds, or to suffer any discomfort because of my behaviour. It is my wish that you accept it from me, and anything else you might need. You are my wife. All that I have is yours.’