No use prolonging this pain. She could not escape her future, but she could step into it head held high of her own volition. She dropped off the boulder and smoothed her skirts. “I should not keep them waiting.”
He joined her and they took the narrow path back to Crossvale Court, his family’s home, side by side. Every few steps, his hand brushed hers, and the warmthof his touch crept up her arm, across her shoulders, dug itself deep into her chest, curling up like a purring cat. It gave her strength. Her friend had always given her strength.
But she needed more. The next time their hands brushed, she grabbed his, clutched it tight. He squeezed hers in return, a small, wordless reassurance.
The path widened, then opened up onto a smooth lawn that stretched toward a circular drive and a large stone house, a former abbey with arched windows and ramparts. A coach sat idle in front of Crossvale Court. It was huge and unfamiliar and bursting with luggage. Not Tessa’s luggage. Hers would fit on her lap. One valise, sturdy and plain. Wherever the footman had stowed it was a small space indeed. She looked down the long drive stretching away from Crossvale. No familiar cart bringing her parents to say goodbye. They didn’t care what happened to her now.
But the two women standing in front of the coach did. They were night and day. The Countess of Crossvale, plump and pretty with black hair just starting to silver, and Viscountess Chattaway, tall and svelte with blond hair liberally streaked by white. They greeted her as Tessa and Remmy approached.
“Are you ready?” the countess called out.
Remmy and Tessa released each other at the same time and hid their hands behind their backs as they stood before his mother.
“I am ready, ma’am,” Tessa said.
“Excellent.” The countess wrapped soft arms around Tessa and whispered in her ear, “Your parents love you. I know they do.”
And yet the countess had been the one to save Tessa when her parents had tossed her out. There had never been anything like friendship between the earl and her father, who had been assigned by a bishop to the nearby rectory.But now there was outright tension, and it was all Tessa’s fault.
“Thank you,” Tessa said softly, “Again. I do not think I can thank you enough.”
“You will adore Meredith, but your life as her companion will not be easy. She is a widow with a widow’s taste for the unconventional.” The countess held Tessa at arm’s length. “You must keep her out of trouble.” She winked.
“I will do my best.”
Lady Chattaway swept into the waiting coach and said just before she disappeared, “You’ll have to do your best to keep up with me! Now do hurry. Prolonging goodbyes does not make them easier.”
But Tessa couldn’t leave yet. “Lady Crossvale… would you… Do you think you could… watch over Verity?”
Lady Crossvale’s eyes softened. “Of course. Would you like to send her letters? Through me?”
“Oh. No. Thank you.” Her mother would never allow Verity to receive letters from Tessa. Asking the countess to be a go-between for the sisters would merely irritate matters further.
Remmy’s mother patted Tessa’s cheek. “You made the right choice. You should not marry a man you do not love.”
Every muscle tight enough to snap, Tessa nodded.
“Do not stay away too long.” Remmy was looking at the sky again. He tugged at his cravat.
“I do not control that.” Tessa did not control much in her little life.
He nodded, swallowed, said, “Come back to me. I mean tous. I mean… to Crossvale.” His cheeks were red, the winter wind whipping his skin raw.
“Miss King!” Lady Chattaway was calling.
“I must go.” The tears hot behind Tessa’s eyes again. She spun around, and the gravel spit out frombeneath her fast-moving feet. When she reached the steps, she lifted her skirts, and?—
Remmy was there, hand held out, cheeks sunken, eyes glittering.
She took his hand and let him help her ascend the steps. But once inside, he didn’t let go. His grip was tight and hot, almost too tight, almost unrelenting.
And when she looked at him, head tilted, a question between her parted, silent lips, he said only, “Dream sweetly, Tessa King.”
“Of blue skies,” she answered. Their old call and response.
A tight nod, then he released her, striding away at the exact second, hands clasped behind his back.
“Goodbye, Remmy,” she whispered. Then she sat across from Lady Chattaway and looked out the window and listened to the woman’s chatter and tried not to cry.
