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...to know that it has been my greatest honor to call Harriett my betrothed. She is the best companion God could have given me on this earth, and I wish that I could have made her my wife. Her fierce devotion both to me and to the Hospital has been the cornerstone of my strength these last few weeks, but I fear they shall be to her detriment when I am gone. When you take your place as duke, I beg you to see that she marries well and happily. She deserves far better than to be bound to a legacy of stone and the memory of a dead man who never loved her as he ought...
The paper shook in Roland’s hand as he laid it aside, unable for the moment to read any more. The words William had whispered on his deathbed again echoed in his memory: Look after her for me. She is more fragile than she likes to admit...
His behavior tonight had been unconscionable. Driven by anger, jealousy he had no right to feel, and—God help him—lust for a woman his brother had clearly respected and adored, he’d hurt her.
He stared into the fire for a long, long time. A choice lay before him. He could execute his original plan and drive her away—away from him, away to whatever end she saw fit to make for herself. The image of her married to Russell rose up before him in his mind’s eye. He would be kind to her, but would she be happy with him?
I beg you to see that she marries well and happily...
Or he could help her find the right husband, a man who would love her as she deserved—and whom she could love in return. Perhaps if he did the latter, the blank space on the wall above his desk would no longer accuse him so.
Raising his glass, he downed the last of the brandy and made a decision.
~ * ~
Uninterested in her breakfast, Harriett halfheartedly scanned the morning papers, glad to have something behind which to hide her face. About halfway through it, a line caught her eye. Her stomach clenched.
“Of significant interest at the event was a vociferous dispute witnessed between Lady D. and Lord M., a rousing disagreement that allegedly ended in a most ardent kiss.”
Damn, damn, damn! Harriett folded the page and stuffed it into her pocket. Rising from the table, she grabbed a roll and hurried out to the carriage house.
“Take me to the Hospital with all haste,” she commanded the dozing driver. Impatience made her fidget while the horses were hooked up. She had to speak with Manchester at once.
Everyone who read that paper would be talking about it—and watching to see what happened next. Attention of that sort could be catastrophic! Everything depended on her and Cat quickly and quietly marrying into safety. Such would prove impossible with London’s tattlers printing things like this.
Alighting from the carriage before it could come to a complete stop, she ran up the steps and unlocked the door with shaking hands. Entering, she realized with relief that Manchester had not yet arrived.
All was quiet as she lit a lamp and slipped into the Administrator’s office. She stood before William’s portrait. The artist had done such a splendid job that she often felt as though a tiny piece of his spirit had been captured in it. Especially when the light was low and soft as it was now. It was nothing more than a fancy, but the idea had always been comforting.
Until now. The memory of how she’d reacted last night to his brother’s embrace flooded her with shame—and fear. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as William’s beloved image blurred. “I fought so hard to honor your memory and protect what we built, and I have no wish to abandon it, but I cannot ask my family to suffer for my desire to remain here. If you can hear me from heaven, William, I beg you to forgive me for what I am about to do.”
Placing the lamp on the floor, she slumped into a chair—William’s chair, now become his brother’s—and put her head in her hands. Safe in the knowledge that no one was there to hear her, she let out a ragged sob.
Though it tore her heart in two, she knew in some ways it would be a relief to let go. Whether or not he wanted it, William’s brother had assumed responsibility for this place. And while she had the approval of the other governors now, it wouldn’t be long before he influenced them in favor of finding a replacement. Marriage would render her unable to fulfill the duties of the position anyway.
Wiping her eyes, she stared up at the portrait again. Better to leave on her own terms before any further unpleasantness could result from her relationship with the current Duke of Manchester. She hardly knew what to think of their relationship now. Was it a dispute? Was it something else? What was it?
The sound of the front door opening made her jump. Dashing away her tears, she rose. Before she could escape, however, a shadow darkened the office doorway.
“Somehow, I knew you would be here early,” said Manchester. He came in and looked at the lamp on the floor, the only light in the otherwise dark room. It lit his face from beneath, casting him in an appropriately devilish light. “My brother’s shrine is well attended, I see.”
She bit her tongue and forced herself to speak without sarcasm. “I didn’t wish to light all of the lamps until they were needed.”
“Don’t lie, Harriett. It doesn’t befit you.”
Previous experience told her arguing with him would only work against her, so she decided to get right to the point. “Your Grace, I wish to tender my resignation effective as soon as a replacement may be found. I am of course willing to help train whomever you select, should they require instruction.”
His startled gaze snapped up to meet hers. “You’re leaving?”
“I am giving notice of my intent to leave,” she corrected.
“Coward.”
The word cut her as sure as any blade. “Were I afraid of you, I should not be here now,” she snapped. “And I should certainly not have offered to remain until my replacement is adequately equipped to perform the duties associated with the position.” She lowered her voice, striving
to reestablish a cool, reasonable demeanor. “I have no wish to leave things in disarray, and I feel a smooth transition will best serve everyone.”
“And here I thought you were planning a seven year siege,” he murmured. “I know what prompted this sudden retreat.”
