But he does not.The words were like a poison running through her veins, turning the very air between her and Theodore sour.
“I know.” Harriet let out a long, shaky breath. “And I will not let her down. But we both know that things cannot continue as they are.”
Theodore said nothing, his mouth opened, lips parted and then he shook his head, his eyes fixed on Harriet. She saw a ripple run through him as he straightened, standing tall. The image of an oak tree filled her mind.
They are solitary trees.She should have known this was always how things would end.
“Is there anything else?” Theodore asked her, his voice nearly unrecognizable.
It was low and whisper soft, an edge that she could not place. Anger perhaps? Affronted pride? Whatever it was, it did not matter.
“Nothing that I can think of.” Harriet let steel seep into her every word. “I take it you have no objection to my leaving?”
There were several beats of silence as she looked at him, keeping her face blank. She would not let him see the treacherous hope in her eyes.
He met her gaze, a slight furrow in his brow. His eyes were a deep lake in winter, cold, forbidding, unknowable. “If this is what you want, I will not stand in your way.”
“It is what I need.”I want you.She thought she saw him flinch, but it was just a trick of the light.
“Then I suppose this is goodbye,” Theodore said, slowly.
“I suppose it is.” Harriet stepped away from him, as her heart crumbled. “I will let you know when I have reached London.”
“Thank you.” Theodore’s leg shifted as though he was going to step towards her, but he did not. “I… Be safe on your journey.”
“I will.” Harriet turned away from Theodore, not wanting him to see the tears filling her eyes. “Goodbye, Theodore.”
Harriet did not wait to hear Theodore’s response. She was already striding away from his study, wishing that he would ask her to stay. She hated the way her ears strained to hear a shout she knew would never come.
It was high time she left Theodore and her little fantasy behind.
* * *
A few days later, Harriet sat in the breakfast room at her parents’ estate. She could feel both of their eyes on her as she pushed the food aimlessly about her plate.
Her stomach was in open revolt at even the thought of food. She tried to force herself to eat, but it was a battle she was starting to lose. Every bit was harder than the last. Eating was a matter of mechanics, but the feel of the food in her mouth made her want to scream.
“I can have Cook prepare something else, darling. Perhaps scrambled eggs? You love scrambled eggs.” Her mother began to wave over a footman but Harriet raised a hand.
“No, please, do not do that.” Harriet waved the footman down, forgetting momentarily that she was not the mistress of the house.
The realization sent a fresh pang through her chest. “I am not very hungry, that is all.”
To her relief her mother did not comment on the slip, simply waved the footman away and returned her worried gaze to Harriet’s face. “It would be no bother.”
“I know that, but it would be a waste.” Harriet tried to give her a reassuring smile, but by the way the worry wrinkles on both her parents’ faces deepened, she knew she had missed the mark.
She looked back at her plate. Her toast seemed to taunt her. She remembered teasing Theodore over breakfast as he spread his jam delicately and evenly so that it covered every bit of the bread. He had smiled at her, just a small one but even that had made her heart leap.
No. He does not want you.
She forced herself to take another mouthful of food, nearly choking as it seemed to clump and grow heavier. She forced herself to keep going, chewing mechanically as she felt her parents continue to watch her.
Pull yourself together, Harriet.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Her father glanced from her to her mother. “I could send for the physician.”
Harriet shook her head as she took a long drink of tea, using it to force the last of her mouthful down. “I am tired, that is all. I have… I have not been sleeping well.”
