Enid tilted her chin. “You seem to forget that I survived an abusive husband and life inside of a workhouse for two months. I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“Enid…” her father started.
She put her hand up, stilling his words. “I am sorry, Father, but my mind is made up. I will speak to my solicitor about finding appropriate accommodations.”
Her father’s back grew rigid. “Fine!” he exclaimed. “Do as you like but do not come groveling back to me.”
“I have no intention of doing so.”
He reached for the door handle and opened the door. “Be off with you. I have work that I need to see to.”
Keeping her head held high, Enid walked through the door and tried to appear unaffected as her father slammed the door behind her.
Her eyes roamed over the grand entry hall that she had called home for as long as she could remember. This may have been her home, but she would establish her own household. A place that she could finally breathe without the fear of upsetting her father.
Enid walked up the stairs and stopped outside Marigold’s bedchamber. She slowly turned the handle and stepped into the room. It was quiet as she made her way to Marigold’s side. She was sleeping so peacefully.
She had wanted her daughter to grow up with her grandparents, but her father was impossible. He would never just let her be. Why couldn’t he let go of her past? As she thought about that, she realized that she hadn’t let go of her past either. Perhaps it wasn’t as easy as she thought.
Greydon exited the coach in front of his brother’s brownstone townhouse and let out a sigh. He had no doubt this was going to be a most difficult conversation with Harriet since there was no way he could delicately ask about the divorce. His best course of action would be to say what needed to be said and hopefully she wouldn’t turn into a simpering miss.
He approached the main door and knocked. It was only a moment before the door opened and a tall, fair-skinned man asked, “May I help you?”
“I am Lord Rushcliffe and I would like to see Lady Rushcliffe,” he announced. There was no point in removing a calling card.
The butler tipped his head and opened the door wide. “Yes, my lord.”
Greydon stepped into the entry hall and was surprised to hear Harriet’s laughter drifting out from a side room. His curiosity was piqued even more when a male’s voice followed the laughter.
Rather than wait to be announced by the butler, he wanted to see for himself what was so amusing. He followed the sound of the voices and approached the door. He glanced inside and saw Harriet sitting on the settee and she had a bright smile on her face. Her companion had his back to him, but there was something familiar about him.
As he headed into the room, Harriet looked over at him and her smile vanished. She jumped up from her seat with a guilty look on her face. “Greydon. What a pleasant surprise,” she said in a light, cheery voice.
“Isn’t it though?” he asked.
Her companion rose and turned to face him. It was none other than Lord William, his brother’s best friend. “Rushcliffe,” he greeted.
Greydon didn’t bother to respond to Lord William’s greeting but instead directed his question towards Harriet. “Dare I ask what was so amusing?”
Harriet’s eyes darted towards Lord William before saying, “We were just discussing the weather.”
“The weather?” Greydon repeated. Surely she did not think he was so intolerably stupid that he would fall for that explanation.
Lord William interjected, “Yes, we were discussing the weather.”
Greydon resisted the urge to groan. They did think he was that stupid. “Pray tell, what is so funny about the weather?” he pressed.
“It is just so fickle,” Harriet replied with a nervous laugh.
“Yes, but I fail to see how that is so amusing,” Greydon said.
Lord William smiled, no doubt in an attempt to disarm him. “You must use your imagination if you want to imagine a sunny day in London.”
Greydon lifted his brow. “Why are you here?” he demanded. He was tired of their lies and hoped they would speak the truth.
“I’m visiting an old friend,” Lord William responded. “I am doing nothing wrong by calling upon Harriet.”
Again, they thought he was an idiot. They didn’t think he could see through the charade that they were playing. Their innocent act was just that- an act. It was evident that they were closer than Lord William dared to admit.
