Lady Maclean heaved a sigh filled with regret. “I suppose we are done here,” she said, breaking the silence.
“I’m not done,” Harry vowed. “She needs to listen to reason.”
She’d left him. She’d confessed that she loved him and then left. No woman had ever just walked away. Or if she had, Harry hadn’t given a care because he couldn’t remember.
“If you can reason with one of my daughters, please help yourself,” Lady Maclean answered. “I fear she’s made her choice. She would rather be ruined and the talk of the valley than with you, Colonel Chattan.”
With those words, she took Monty’s arm and together they returned to their horses. The dogs went charging after Monty.
The others walked or rode off as well.
And Harry was alone.
Chapter Sixteen
“I’m sorry,” Portia said after she and Minnie had dismounted in front of Camber Hall. Mr. Tolliver—Ollie—had taken their horses with the intention of returning them to General Montheath.
“For what?” her sister asked.
“For everything,” Portia whispered. She’d thought she’d cried enough over Harry the night before, but now she realized she had fresh tears to shed. “This will cast a terrible shadow over your wedding.”
Minnie put her arms around her sister. “I’m more worried about you. This has been a frightening morning.”
“What do you mean?” Portia asked as they climbed the front steps.
“Mother was beside herself when we realizedyou were missing. We searched everywhere and then when we couldn’t find you, we panicked. Mother sent for General Montheath and he organized the search party.” Minnie placed a hand on Portia’s arm. “I wish I had known what you were about. If I had, we would never have alerted everyone. I fear we have not done you any favors.”
Portia shook her head. “It is fine, Minnie. I kept it secret. Having clandestine meetings with one of the most notorious rakes in all England is not something one shares with her mother and sister.” She didn’t wait for Minnie’s response but ran inside the house and up the stairs.
She shut herself in her bedroom. The bed, the draperies, the two chairs by the window near her desk looked the same but now everything was different. She placed her hand on her belly. Yes, very different. She should never have left this room. Being publicly humiliated was what she’d deserved ... but what of the future? What of the child she was certain they had created?
Need for Harry stabbed through her. They had been apart from each other not even an hour and already she missed him. Was this what the rest of her life would be like? She couldn’t imagine ever forgetting him. He was a part of her.
She’d turned down his offer of marriage.
The realization robbed her of breath ... and then she remembered the happy way in which he’d told her that they would never love each other.
There might have been a time when Portia would have claimed she could love him enough for both of them ... but then she thought of her father, of her mother, whose disappointment in her marriage was so very clear.
No, Portia was better off alone.
Sitting on the bed, Portia was overwhelmed with fear. She looked around the room, wishing Owl was there. The cat was nowhere to be seen. She was alone. Completely alone.
Portia lay down and surprised herself by falling asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.
Alight knock on the door woke Portia. She sat up and looked around the room. She’d not closed the curtains, and the weak morning light filled the room. She must have slept all day and all night. She felt good—until she remembered all that had happened the day before.
The knock sounded again.
“Come in,” Portia said, expecting her visitor to be Minnie. She reached for her spectacles on thebedside table and was surprised when the door opened and her mother entered the room.
Lady Maclean was dressed for the day, something she’d only recently started. Always before, she’d lie abed until the evening hours, and by then, why change? She’d have Portia bring up a tray and that would be that. However, lately, her mother had been joining them for dinner as well.
“How are you feeling?” her mother asked, closing the door behind her, a sign that they were going to “talk.”
Portia was not ready to talk. “I’ve been better.” She put her legs over the side of the bed and stood. The world seemed to spin a moment. She crossed over to the washbasin and poured cold water into the bowl. She splashed it on her face.
Her mother was watching her with great concern in her eyes.
