“I suppose. Though if you have any qualms about his presence, Gran, I understand.” For a moment, hope flickeredthat she might be able to get out of seeing the man at all before her father arrived. A silly wish, for there was no good reason to spurn the man’s suit. The signed contract and the threat from her father aside, he was one of the nicest, handsomest men she had ever known.
But he isn’t Peter.
The voice whispered again through her mind, desperate now. Grasping her hands tightly in her lap, she tried with all her might to push back the encroaching panic at the lack of control she had over her own fate. Not that she had ever had much control over it before.
Lady Tesh’s next words crushed whatever small, silly hope she might have had in getting out of seeing Lord Redburn.
“Of course I don’t mind. In fact, I think having Lord Redburn around will be positively wonderful.”
The sly look on Lady Tesh’s face was quickly replaced by a look of polite interest. It happened so quickly, Lenora thought perhaps she had imagined the whole thing.
“As a matter of fact,” Lady Tesh continued, “I believe you should send a note off to him, to invite him to dinner here tonight.”
Once again a vision of Peter’s face flashed through her mind, the coldness in his eyes, the cruelty in his voice as he crushed the remains of her heart to dust.
She swallowed hard. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Tesh declared. “It’s perfect. Now off you go.” She made a shooing motion in Lenora’s direction, dismissing her.
Confused, Lenora lifted a sleepy Freya, placing her on her embroidered cushion at Lady Tesh’s side before walking from the room in a daze.
***
Peter considered leaving the Isle. For one mad moment, he stood at the edge of the cliffs surrounding his great-aunt’s estate and dreamed of booking passage on the next ship, leaving his belongings and even Quincy behind, escaping the heartache that was this blasted island. Why should he stay? To court more pain?
But even as the idea slinked with temptation through him, he knew he would not. His mother’s face took shape in his mind, her beauty a mere shadow after the ravages of want and grief and illness. He had ignored his promise to her to his detriment these last thirteen years, had suffered from the guilt of not seeing it through. Her presence had haunted him all that time. Now he had a chance to put her soul to rest once and for all. He couldn’t turn his back on it.
That didn’t mean, however, that he need return immediately. So he stood on the edge of the rock that was the Isle, looking out over the vast expanse of seemingly unending sea. Feeling as if he were at the edge of the world. But even here he was reminded of Lenora. The breeze tugged at his hair as her hands had done last night. The sun warmed his skin as her slumbering body had done, curled against his. She was in the sigh of the branches, in the call of the seabirds.
He tried with all his might to recall why she didn’t deserve his thoughts. She was engaged to another. Worse, she’d been engaged thrice before. All this time he had thought her pining over Hillram. Instead she’d given her fickle attentions to a parade of others. He had merely been last in a long line of them.
There should be nothing but rage within him. He had nearly abandoned the plans he’d spent so long forming in order to be with her.
Yet he still wanted her. More than anything.
Furious with himself, he bent and scooped up a rock from the ground, sending it sailing in a wide arc through the air to plunge into the sea far below. A litany began in his head, a list of names repeated over and over. Lord Hillram. Lord Fig. Lord Landon. Lord Redburn. All men she had been promised to, all men she had been ready to bind her life to. He found, however, that the more he focused on that list, the less power it held. Who was he to expect that she should have sat waiting for his arrival all these years? He was no saint, after all, had certainly not been without companionship. And she was a woman from a good family; marrying well was expected of her. He had heard some of her father. No doubt she had not had much say in the matter.
He punished himself with the image of Lord Redburn bowing over her hand. The two had looked to be in their own world in that moment, the very picture of romantic love. And how well she had looked with him, her dainty blonde fragility only enhanced by the other man’s dark elegance. Redburn’s looks complemented her in every way.
Bile surged into his mouth, bitter and jarring. Damnation, he couldn’t do this. Bracing his hand on a nearby tree, he dug his fingers into the bark, breaking off bits to fall to the still damp ground.
He stood that way for a time, breathing in deeply of the salty sea air, letting the heaviness of it fill his lungs. It was only when the sky began to darken, when the breeze pushed up by the churning waves began to force a chill into his bones, that he heaved a sigh and pushed away from the tree. He would return to the house and attend the blasted dinner party Lady Tesh had planned for this evening, would finish off his time here with as little further emotional entanglement as he could manage. And when he finally left this hellhole, he would not look back.
Chapter 24
Though she knew a trip to the cliffs was imperative, not only to complete her promise to Lady Tesh but also to continue facing her memories of Hillram—which she had regrettably forsaken since Peter had begun to take up so much of her thoughts—it was the very last thing Lenora wished to do. Not when she knew what was coming, and how it so painfully mirrored her own heartbreaking story with Peter.
Yet here she was, with both Peter and Lord Redburn. At the most tragic place on the Isle.
She rubbed the back of her neck as the carriage wound its way toward their destination. Last night’s dinner party had taken a toll on her. She was used to donning a mask for public events, to smile and converse when she would rather hide in the corner. Her father had expected no less from her.
But nothing had prepared her for the pain of pretending everything was right with the world when in reality she wanted nothing more than to bury herself under her covers and cry until her heart was wrung of tears. She had done it, however, and had used every ounce of strength to keep her gaze from straying to Peter, keeping her attentions focused on Lord Redburn and the future he hoped to make with her.
No, not hoped, she reminded herself. For it was all too certain. She reached into the pocket of her gown, crushing the already abused letter from her father. She had known after the torment of last night that she would need a reminder of why she had to go along with this arrangement. She had thought her father’s threats would be just the thing.
It seemed, however, they did not hold the power over her that she’d thought. Her heart still cried out that this was wrong, that she could not go through with it. She withdrew her hand and clenched her fingers in her lap. Her heart could protest all it liked. If Peter didn’t want her, what was the point in fighting the inevitable?
The carriage slowed, then rocked to a halt. The door opened, and Lenora braced herself to descend from the conveyance and face Peter in all his scowling splendor.
