Harriet lied then. The first lie she’d ever told him. If you didn’t count all the times she’d neglected to tell him precisely how much she wanted him to kiss her. Those were lies of omission. “Not exactly. And I suppose I’ll no longer be needing it.” Harriet felt tears stinging the back of her eyes. “I can … I can repay you.” If she had to figure out how to recoup the cost of the ring, she could. She hoped.
“Don’t trouble yourself over it. You can keep the money from the sale,” he bit out, sounding almost … angry. Presumably he thoughther careless with his funds. Or thieving. Still, she thought it a bit crass thatheseemed so upset about a symbol of their vows.
Harriet finally tore her gaze from her hand to meet his eyes, and the emotion there almost knocked her over. He seemed to be as much in pain as she was, although she couldn’t muddle through why.She’dhad to watch him with other women.She’dagreed they wouldn’t have children.She’dmoved in for the sake of appearances and fallen in love with him.
Oh, bloody hell.
She needed to leave before she did something idiotic like telling him as much. She threw more things into her valise at random and clasped it, then turned to see Alexander still waiting. Waiting for … something. His jaw clenched and unclenched in apparent frustration. She didn’t want to think about his emotions; she was too exhausted.
“If you permit me, I’ll take a carriage to my father’s and then have the driver return here.” He looked like he was about to say something; instead, he nodded and turned out of the room. Only, a moment later he returned.
“Since you’ll be going, I thought I might tell you something,” he offered. Harriet looked around the room to avoid eye contact with him, which she felt certain would lead to tears on her part. “If you’d like to make yourself come, Giuliana recommended you being on top of something and rubbing your … self on it. A pillow. A blanket. The arm of a chair, even”—he cleared his throat uncomfortably—“is what she said.”
“I—Thank you,” Harriet choked out. It dawned on her then that this confirmed her assumption that he’d still been seeing his mistress. It also dawned on her that he was telling her this because he was no longer going to be helping her with that matter. “Give her my best,” Harriet added, meaning it.
Neither of them seemed to know what to do with that. A disconcerting silence settled between them. He nodded and left, blessedly.
Harriet walked out of the house on the verge of tears. She was entirely unsure of what she’d packed in her valise. She wouldn’t be surprised to find a bar of soap and a single slipper when she opened it. The rest could be sent for later. At least she didn’t have to suffer Alexander’s company any longer, and with it the reminders of all the women whose company he preferred.
Harriet was halfway to her father’s house when she remembered she hadn’t posted the letter to Mr. Dawkins apologizing for missing their appointment today. She tapped on the roof of the vehicle and requested the driver take her to Bond Street. She was going to need the dictionary income now more than ever. She could have—should have—asked Alexander for an allowance before she left. Only, he’d offered money to Philippa, so perhaps that would be enough. Or would he revoke that offer now that she’d gone?Bugger.
Once again, Harriet was shown into the sitting room to wait. She didn’t relish having to move their work to the lodging house, butneeds must. When Mr. Dawkins appeared this time, he looked even more disoriented than the first time she’d been here. Peculiar.
“Mr. Dawkins, good day. I am here because—”
“Because of your husband, I presume?”What does he know? How?
“It’s only that, well … I thought we might work here now.”
“Lady Alexander, I have no intention of working with you anywhere in this city. In this country. I have no intention of you being anywhere near my dictionary. Your husband made clear, in no uncertain terms, that you and I are not to work together.”
Harriet couldn’t breathe. There was not enough air in all of England.
“He did?” she eked out. Mr. Dawkins responded with a harsh, bitter laugh.
“He hasn’t told you, then? Yes, I met your husband, and he was quite unequivocal. I am not to utilize your services anymore. Which is quite all right, as the book was sent to the publisher two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks ago? But we’ve been … I’ve been working with you.” Harriet felt the world spinning off its axis.
“On the second edition, yes. Should the book sell well enough, the publisher would like to release an updated version next year. That is what you have been assisting me with. Although, no longer.”
“Please, Mr. Dawkins, I need this dictionary. I am no longer in residence with my husband, thus his opinion no longer signifies. Please, I beg you. I need the money. I know it’s unseemly to speak of such things, but it’s all I have.”
“To what money do you refer?” Harriet’s eyebrows snapped together in confusion.
The only practice Harriet had talking about money was with the bill collectors who came to her father’s residence. She’d always been the one who owed someone, never the one asking to be paid. She swallowed and reminded herself of Caroline and Frances. “The money you promised me for the first dictionary. Twenty-five percent of the profits is what we agreed upon. The same ought to hold true for the second edition as well, if I have been contributing to it, which I will gladly continue. I vow there will be no interference from my husband.”
Mr. Dawkins looked down at her unkindly. As if she were a puddle he was trying not to step in. “Even if I had promised such a sum—which I assure you I did not—I entered into that arrangement with the understanding I was exchanging letters with a man. You are not a man, therefore the agreement is null. AndafterI discovered you were a woman, you were married and thus unable to enter into a contract with me of any kind. I have no agreement with you. I have never had any agreement with you.”
“No, no, that’s not—that’s not …”
“Lady Alexander, I have no further business here, so I must ask you to leave. I hardly wish to spend my day comforting someone else’s sniveling wife.”
Harriet’s eyes grew wide with shock at the insult. He turned and absented the room, leaving her feeling entirely … Well, in fact she felt almost nothing at all. She felt as if someone had scooped out allher insides with a big soup spoon. In lieu of anything better to do or say, she quietly whispered, “I wasn’t sniveling, you clodpate.”
She left the lodging house in a daze and continued to her father’s. Her entire life had collapsed, and it had only taken a single day. By the time Alexander’s carriage reached her father’s house, Harrietwassniveling. She hadn’t cried so hard in ages, and she did her best to stop before her sisters saw her. To halt the tears, Harriet bit her tongue and dug her fingernails into her palms, trying to breathe only through her nose for the last few minutes of the ride.
Her plan worked, her tears gone when she entered her father’s house, valise in hand. Unfortunately, that lasted only about seven seconds before Caroline took one look at her and asked, “Oh, Harriet, what has happened?” At which point, Harriet fell to pieces.
