“We could split up, and I could go to the ladies’ quarters,” she said. “I believe there are some volumes there as well.”
He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. “Are you so eager to leave me?”
The melancholy landed like his tone—soft, yet brittle. It left her feeling much the same.
“You are the one who left,” she said, speaking as matter-of-factly as she could manage. Would that old hurt ever leave her?
Without his cravat, she could see his throat swallow back any emotion he did not wish to betray. “What choice did I have?”
“You are a man, Tom,” she said with a sigh. “And a steward’s son. You had choices.”
“You told me that I had no chance. That I had overstepped my boundaries.”
“I had no choice,” she said.
He opened a book, idly looking through the pages. “You could have come with me.”
“And do what?” she said. “Do you have any idea what my father would have done to your family if he’d discovered you had made an offer for me? If I’d gone off with you?”
Chapter Fourteen
Tom closed thebook and slid it back into place. This was the second time she’d hinted that she’d rejected him under duress. Indeed, this was hardly a hint at all, but rather a confession. Judging by the way her complexion had gone from cream to deep pink, it was not one she’d been prepared to make.
He took a moment, collecting himself, as he slotted a missing piece of a long unsolved puzzle into place.
“What did your father threaten, Georgie?”
“I—” she faltered, and then straightened, trying to push off his question. “I misspoke.”
“You are misspeaking now,” he said, closing the distance between them. “What did your father threaten?”
“He didn’t threaten anything,” she replied, swallowing deeply, then forcing a smile.
“You know they can’t hurt me now,” he said, softening his voice. It was true. While Lord Ashcombe outranked him, Viscount Worthington was a man who commanded a great deal of respect and his place in society was unblemished. “Nor the Blakeys. Indeed, I have already reached out to them, to offer them a pension and a living on one of my father’s smaller estates.”
Her eyes widened and she looked away, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Georgie—” He put a finger under her chin, gently tilting her face toward his. Her lip trembled, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t alone, when we met.” She pressed her lips together. “Marcus was not far, watching.”
Tom swallowed back a knot of anger. Marcus had always been a conniving little bastard.
“And then,” she said, “I received your letter. You were so, so angry. And then you were gone.”
“I was angry when I wrote that letter,” he said. “I was nineteen. Just a boy. My heart was cracked in two, and I was in so much pain. I wanted everyone else to be in pain along with me.”
“I had started to pack my bags anyway,” she said. “My father was talking openly about my dowry, and my marriage prospects, and what he expected in the way of a husband. The estate was failing, and I could see him getting more desperate by the day. It’s one of the reasons Gabriel left.”
Gabe had spoken of this—the increased superstition and despondency consuming his father, and indeed, Marcus too. It was one of the reasons why Gabriel had chosen to escape not only his father, but England itself. He’d gone with something very near a death wish, throwing himself into battle with almost the same ferocity he put into his merrymaking. But Gabe spoke about Georgie with great affection—so much so that, in the early days, it had been difficult to listen to, given the freshness of Tom’s own wounds at her rejection. She had been Gabe’s one light among all the bad feeling about home.
“Your brother loves you,” he said, desperate to give her some sort of comfort and assurance.
“Yes, well,” she said, her voice growing brittle, “it can be difficult to remember that when you are left alone while the rest of the world is going on with their lives.”
Her admission landed on Tom’s chest with all the force of nearby cannon shot. And like cannons, when the smoke cleared and the confusion settled, it was if he could see, for the first time, Georgie’s wound.
While Whetherby and her family’s fortunes were crumbling around her, Georgie was forced to remain. Gabriel could leave. And Tom went with him.
