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Her shoulders lifted slightly.
‘We found you, that is all that matters.’
‘My indomitable Mary.’ The flush on her smooth cheek deepened. He reached out for her, but she rose quickly, ignoring his hand as she straightened the sheets. Did she think he was still angry with her? ‘Mary, we must talk.’
‘Not yet, my lord. There will be time for that when you are better.’ She raised her head as voices sounded from outside the door. ‘Lieutenant Foster is here to see you.’
* * *
Mary hurried from the bedroom, thankful to put off the tête-à-tête a little longer. She did not want to hear what he had to say; she had made her decision, it was the only solution and she would not allow him to talk her out of it. She would not admit to herself how much it would hurt if he did not even try.
Chapter Thirteen
The brigade surgeon appeared quite satisfied and when he saw Mary in the sitting room he told her that rest was all the earl needed now.
‘His lordship is already sleeping,’ said Robbins when Lieutenant Foster had left. ‘I’ll watch him now, miss, and you can get some rest.’
But Mary was too on edge to lie down. She had asked for her embroidery and her writing box to be sent over from the schoolhouse, but plying a needle left her far too much time to think, so instead she went through her correspondence. There were several letters from parents of her pupils, giving notice that they would not be sending their children to the academy again. They had obviously been sent before they had received her own letter, telling them that she was closing the school. None of them gave a reason, but it was quite clear from their tone that they had heard she was the mistress of an English milord. There was also a note from Lady Sarah that required an answer. It would be difficult to respond. Mary knew she should be thankful that Sarah was safely back in Brussels, but she could not help thinking that if Sarah had not persuaded her to go to the ball, Randall might never have said such wounding things.
Quickly, she pushed aside that thought. He would still have thought her a thief and a fortune hunter even if he had not had the opportunity to accuse her to her face. That is what hurt most, that Randall should be so quick to condemn her. She could not forgive him for his lack of trust. Perhaps she had been too hasty in putting aside her own principles when he had suggested marriage. He was still an earl, a member of the nobility whom she despised. Even love could not change that. She just managed to wipe away a tear before it splashed on to the paper. She did not want anyone, especially Lady Sarah, to know of her distress.
* * *
Thankfully she had quite recovered her composure by the time Major Flint barged in some time later and she stoutly refused to give him more than five minutes with his colonel. He looked shocked at his half-brother’s appearance, but at least that prevente
d him from asking her too many questions about her presence there. Not that it mattered. Her reputation was in tatters.
Randall slept so much that it was a simple matter for Mary to avoid being with him when he was awake. It was necessary for her to help Robbins to wash the earl and ease him into a clean nightshirt, but she scurried away as soon as she could, determined not to be alone with him.
* * *
She managed to get some sleep in the early evening, ready to relieve Robbins at midnight, but when she went into the earl’s room she found him awake. He stared at her with sombre intensity.
‘I believe you have been avoiding me.’ He spoke quietly, so unlike his normal, brusque tone that she felt the tears sting her eyes again.
‘No, my lord, I—’
‘Don’t lie to me.’ His voice was weak, but she discovered it had lost none of its power to command.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Yes. I have been avoiding you.’
‘I know now that you did not take the Latymor sword.’ His fingers plucked at the bedcovers. ‘It was unforgivable of me to accuse you.’
‘Yes.’
‘What can I do to make it up to you?’
‘Nothing, my lord.’
‘Mary—’
‘Please, my lord, there is no need for you to say anything else.’ She sat down beside his bed and folded her hands in her lap. ‘I wanted to put off this until you were stronger, but perhaps it is best if we discuss it now.’
‘You mean while I am too weak to argue with you?’
His flash of humour stabbed at her, but it did not shake her resolve. She continued in a calm and measured tone.
‘I am closing the school and leaving Brussels. It is impossible for me to stay here.’
