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“It matters not. You will force me back to the Midlands where I will live a dull life of healing the sick and never finding . . .”
“Never finding what?” He was genuinely curious about what she wanted out of life.
“Love,” she whispered, then brushed a tear aside.
Damn. Guilt spread over him like honey, sticking to him and making him unclean. He had set out to ruin her, knowing it was the only way to make her return. It was far from the worst thing he’d ever done, and yet, he did feel dreadful. “I am sorry.”
She laughed in a coarse tone so unlike her. “I highly doubt that. You got what you wanted.”
The carriage pulled up in front of the house. Braden escorted her to the coach. After assisting her, he jumped in and took the seat across from her. A part of him wanted to talk with her and another knew it was no use. Nothing he could say would make her feel better tonight.
Tomorrow he would tell her about her sister. If he told her now, she would demand they leave immediately and that wasn’t the safest course of action. It could wait until tomorrow.
Tension filled the carriage on the short ride home. He wondered if she planned to resume their argument once they reached the house. They rolled to a stop. The coach door opened and Braden scrambled down. He held out his hand to assist Tia. She took it only long enough to reach the ground, and then pulled away as if she’d been burned.
She strode in the house and straight to his study.
“Good evening, my lord,” Nelson said, taking Braden’s hat. “It appears Miss Featherstone has returned. Shall I have the same bedroom made up for her?”
“Yes. Thank you, Nelson.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“It might get loud in the study. She was not particularly happy to be found.” Braden shot his butler a grin. “Just ignore the noise and send the servants to bed once her room is made up. I will snuff the candles before I head up to bed.”
“Of course, my lord. Good luck.”
“I will need it.” Braden headed to the study, but then stopped at the threshold. Tia poured a glass of brandy and tossed it back like a sailor. Then she poured herself another. “Drinking like that won’t solve your problem.”
She gulped down another and then turned to stare at him. “You’re still standing there, so I suppose you are right.”
“I am not your problem, Tia.”
“Do you see any other person here trying to bring me back to a life I don’t want?”
After pouring herself another, she sat down and sipped from her glass of brandy. Braden walked over to pour a snifter for himself. “The estate needs you. Your family needs you.”
She pointed to him as she shook her head. “Now, that’s where you are wrong, my lord. My mother doesn’t need me. She is the one who thought I should take over your estate alone, while my sister was able to stay and continue to learn from her.”
“Perhaps she felt you were ready to leave the nest.”
“Ha! She wanted me gone.” Tia took another sip of her brandy.
Braden collapsed into the chair across from her with a heavy sigh. He supposed he should be grateful she seemed
to have moved away from his ruination of her. “If she wanted you gone so badly, why did she storm into my study and insist I run off to London and find you?”
She pressed her full lips together with a shake of her head. “I don’t know. Perhaps it was a show to make you believe that she cared. Or maybe it was because she doesn’t have time to take care of your tenants.”
“Tia, I know deep in your heart that you do not believe such nonsense. It’s the brandy talking.”
“Hardly.” As if to prove him wrong, she took another long drink of the heady spirit. “Mia was her favorite. Always has been.”
“Is that why you left?” he asked softly. Perhaps her departure had nothing to do with Jonathon.
She rolled her eyes before finishing her drink. “No. It was all about your brother.” She cocked a reddish brow at him. Her eyes held a glossy spark, showing the effects of the brandy. “I love your brother, can’t you see it? Isn’t that the real reason you chased after me? To stop me from seducing him.” She rose, slightly unsteadily, and then poured herself another brandy before refilling his glass. A few drops landed on his breeches. “Of course,” she began again, “I would never be acceptable as his wife, therefore the only logical explanation of why I went after him was to become his lover, right?”
Braden usually found drunken women rather unappealing, but there was something about Tia’s current state of drunkenness that was quite humorous and slightly endearing. “I believe you may have had enough to drink for the night, Tia.”
