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She’d hurried away before Averil could stop her, and left her sitting alone on the bed.
Averil bit her lip on the urge to cry. She didn’t have time, she told herself. She had to go home. She would throw herself back into her work, and be so busy that she’d soon forget all about the earl of Southbrook. Her heart would soon mend and-and . . . But she
wondered in despair whether that was possible. She’d loved him almost from the first moment she saw him, at the opera. She still remembered the strange sensation in her heart when their eyes met. Today at the dower house, she’d given herself to him willingly, and believed their lives would continue on many years into the future. Marriage and children and loving each other.
Averil knew she couldn’t recover from that quickly. It would take a long time. Perhaps forever.
Rufus sipped his brandy and stared moodily at his boots. Around him his castle slowly crumbled to dust and he thought it was apt, because at the moment he felt as if he, too, might soon be dust. He’d made a complete and utter mess of matters with Averil and then watched from this very window, as his coach took her away, back to London.
She hadn’t taken Hercules, but he couldn’t even manage to feel annoyed about that. Eustace had told him that Averil had left the dog on the understanding that, when Eustace went off to school, he would bring Hercules back to her. It was a kindness on her part, he supposed, and Eustace had probably persuaded her to agree.
And she might have left her monstrous hound, but she’d taken Beth and Violet with her, which meant James was moping about, inconsolable. Eustace, too, had taken to looking at him with sad eyes, murmuring about how much he missed Averil. “She smelt nice,” he said, when Rufus asked him what he missed about her. “And she was always kind to me, even when I forgot to tie Hercules up and he ate some marzipan and was sick. You let her go back to London, Papa. Why did you do that?”
It was all his fault, it seemed.
Rufus told himself he had only wanted to do the right thing by the Southbrook family—the honorable thing—and he’d ended up making a complete hash of it.
He was miserable. He couldn’t remember ever being this miserable. He felt as if the world had gone gray around him, leached of all color. As if winter had come early.
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
Rufus looked up and then groaned. James again, and this time Eustace was at his side. Separately they were bad enough, but now they’d teamed up he didn’t know if he could bear it. He took a deep sip of his brandy to fortify himself.
“I asked her to marry me,” he said stoically. “That was what you wanted, wasn’t it? I swallowed my doubts and my pride and my honor, and I asked her to marry me.”
James wasn’t impressed. “You asked her because you love her. You should have laid your cards out on the table, Rufus. A girl like that, she needs you to be straight with her. She’s been let down before. Her mother and all that . . .” He said it knowledgeably, as if he hadn’t heard it all from Beth.
Rufus’s eyes flashed. “I don’t blame her for saying no. God, if I were her I’d run a mile!”
“You’re helping her to find her sister,” James reminded him. “No one is forcing you to do that. You offered the dower house to her. No one asked you to do that. You look at her as if she’s your heart and soul. You love her, Rufus. Admit it and do something about it.”
Rufus curled his lip. “You only want me to fix it so that Beth will marry you.”
“Yes, I do, but I also want to see you happy, old chap. And look at Eustace here, he needs a mother. She’s perfect. Go down to London and fix it, Rufus, or-or . . .” he floundered.
“We’ll disinherit you,” Eustace announced.
Rufus stared. “I don’t know if I can fix it.” His voice was bleak.
“You can,” James retorted. “We believe in you. Do what you have to do, Rufus. If it means selling this pile, then do that, too. Do you really want to spend your old age living here in the cold and damp, with the castle falling down around you? The Southbrooks are more than that. Our name, our family, will go on without Southbrook Castle. It’s time we took a new road. What do you say, Eustace?”
Eustace looked thoughtful. “I would miss the castle, I suppose, but if it meant we’d have Averil instead, and Papa would be happy . . . Yes, I think that would be a good exchange, Uncle James.”
Rufus looked from one to the other and knew when he was beaten. “I don’t want to put a damper on your hopes, but she may refuse to speak to me, you know. Averil is very strong-willed, and when she makes up her mind about something . . .”
James snorted rudely. “She’s left her dog here, Rufus. Don’t you think that means something? She wants you to go to her.”
Rufus doubted that, but he decided to believe it was a good sign. He would go to London. Perhaps he would find Averil’s sister and then he would have something to bargain with? Yes, there was a plan. Suddenly he felt brighter and more confident. He stood up and strode toward the door.
“Send to the stables to have Midnight saddled,” he said over his shoulder to the two eager faces. And then, his eyes narrowing, “Don’t follow me. Stay here and await further instructions.”
“Of course,” James said, echoed by Eustace.
Their innocent looks didn’t inspire his trust, but Rufus didn’t have time to worry. He was going to London and he told himself that when he came back he would bring Averil with him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
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