Page 27 of An Enchanting Dare

“You cannot help,” she said, her voice calm, resigned. “No one can help. There is nothing to help with. What is done cannot be undone, and some actions have far-reaching consequences, a price that must be paid. I accept that. I accepted that a long time ago.”

“Well, I don’t,” he said, angry now. He took her hands and held on, trying to give her his assurance, his will to fight whatever was smothering the life from her. “You are suffering. I can see it, your family can see it. Hell, even that… that strange woman back there can see it. Stop running from it, Aisling. Stop running from me.”

She shook her head and tugged her hands free. To his misery, he saw a tear overspill and fall, quickly followed by another. “I cannot. I am sorry. Please… Please don’t follow me….”

He watched as she ran from him again, unable to follow her when she had forbidden it, powerless to help her if she would not let him in. What the devil was he to do now?

Chapter 10

I know what you did.

―Sent to Lady Aisling Baxter from an anonymous correspondent.

28th June 1841, Trevick Castle, Warwickshire.

“A party?”

Sylvester looked across the breakfast table to Aisling, who was white as a sheet and had exclaimed the words with the same enthusiasm as she might have announced, ‘a plague of frogs?’ Her mother nodded, avoiding Sylvester’s eye. The countess appeared tranquil enough on the surface, but Sylvester could see the death grip she had on her teacup, and she risked snapping the handle if she didn’t have a care. It was only the three of them for the moment, for none of the others were early risers. Aisling stared at her mama, her expression one of horror.

“Yes, dearest,” Lady Trevick said, and Sylvester had the impression she was steeling herself for her daughter’s response. “In two days. I know it’s a lot of bother and upheaval, but it is expected of me to entertain, you might remember. Plus, it means employment for the locals and money spent on goods.”

“Yes, yes, I know all that,” Aisling said impatiently. “But you usually give your bigger parties during the winter months, when we are in town. You had dozens of entertainments this year. Isn’t that enough? Why a summer one too?”

“For that reason. I’ve not done one for some time and now I mean to make amends. I think it is time you stopped using the summer to hide yourself away, too. Don’t you, darling?”

There was a gentle yet implacable tone to the countess’ voice that led Sylvester to believe she had not entertained during the summer months because of Aisling, because of this reaction.

“But so soon! You didn’t even tell me you’d sent the invitations out. You must have been planning this for weeks, and—”

“And I didn’t want you to worry about it,” the countess cut in, her voice a mixture of sadness and frustration. “Whenever I mention a summer ball, you have a million reasons why I shouldn’t hold one, yet you never tell me the real reason, Aisling. Tell me now, and I’ll cancel it.”

Aisling got to her feet, though they had only just sat down to breakfast. She looked ill.

“Oh, Aisling. Don’t run off, you’ve not eaten a thing,” the countess said desperately, gesturing to the untouched plate before her daughter. “Please, darling. Won’t you talk to me?”

“I’m not hungry,” Aisling said. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She hurried away, and the countess set down her teacup with trembling hands. She turned back to Sylvester, pleading in her eyes.

Sylvester hesitated and then snatched up a couple of slices of plum cake and wrapped them in a napkin before getting to his feet.

“Good luck,” the countess said, giving him a sad smile as he hurried after Aisling.

She moved fast, he’d give her that. She was already outside when he caught up with her.

“Wait. Take this, at least.”

She turned, frowning at him as he held out the napkin.

“If you’re going to run away, you ought not do it on an empty stomach,” he said, handing her the cake.

She unwrapped the napkin and sighed as she saw the cake. He watched as she wrapped it back up again. “Thank you, but I’m not running away.”

“Yes, you are. You always run away. You run away from me, from parties, from life. Is that all there is for you now? Running and hiding?”

Irritation sparked in her eyes and Sylvester steeled his nerve.

“I never took you for a coward, my lady.”