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Chapter 9
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Charlie asked yet again as he followed Rafe downstairs.
“No, but Sebastien made me promise, and I’m not about to break it.” Rafe nodded at the butler Fornari, who went to the closet and brought out his coat and hat. “I’m afraid it’s something I’ve got to do.”
“Sebastien was dying. He’s not going to know that you’ve not married Miss Hayward.”
“It sounds like you don’t want me to do this, Charlie.” Rafe arched an eyebrow at him. “Is there something you know about her that I don’t?”
Charlie faltered. Then he sighed heavily.
“She doesn’t want to marry anyone in your family. It took a while for her and Lord Mowbray to come to some sort of agreement for once they were married, from what I heard. And Miss Victoria has made her position clear when it comes to you.” He indicated his friend. “Plus, I know you don’t want to marry her.”
“It’s something that my father and Viscount Selkirk came to an agreement on.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to go through with it yourself.”
Charlie was right. Rafe could turn it down and go back to America. He had an estate manager who could look after the various houses and the staff, and Rafe could go back to what he was used to doing. Maybe even have his own home near the city, but far enough away that he could be left alone. Marrying Miss Victoria Hayward would be throwing all of his plans out of the window.
But his father had made this agreement, and Sebastien had made him promise. Even though Sebastien wouldn’t know that he had broken the promise, Rafe intended on keeping it.
Although the thought of marrying someone who hated him wasn’t very enticing. Perhaps they could come to some sort of arrangement themselves.
“I’m not going back on what I promised, Charlie.” Rafe shrugged into his coat. “It’s going to be difficult, but I can make it work.”
“Even if your future wife hates you.”
Rafe didn’t answer. He buttoned up his coat and took his hat from Fornari.
“I’ll be back soon. I just need to speak to Miss Victoria. Her mother has agreed to it.”
“Do you think that’s going to make things any better?”
“Probably not. But the least I can do is talk to her.”
Although Rafe wasn’t really sure what he was going to say to her. What could he say? He couldn’t exactly apologise for Richard’s death, not when he wasn’t even sure he had committed it. Even if he hadn’t, he doubted Victoria would listen to what he had to say. Their marriage was certainly going to be contentious, and Rafe didn’t really want to have that after what he had been through.
Maybe they could come to a compromise themselves—live apart and not have anything to do with each other. Rafe could manage that, and Victoria could do what she wanted away from him. It was the only thing he could think of. He didn’t want to live under the same roof as a woman who would more than likely want to wish him harm. He had an image of Victoria standing over his bed holding a knife.
This was not going to be good.
Sighing, Charlie shrugged and stepped back.
“I won’t go with you this time. But if you need any help in the future, just let me know. I’ll do what I can.”
“I thought you were going to head back to America.”
“When you’re in this predicament? I’m not about to leave you floundering. Someone needs to be on your side.”
Rafe didn’t know what to say to that. He merely clasped Charlie’s arm and left the house, jumping into the carriage and sagging against the cushions. Knowing his friend was going to stay did make things a little better. Rafe didn’t feel like he was suffocating when Charlie was about.
Although he could do without Charlie’s occasional teasing. He was an earl now. It didn’t seem real. It shouldn’t have been his at all. Sebastien was supposed to be here and be the Earl. Rafe was supposed to be at his wedding, and then he would go home. His brother would be asking for him to stay, but Rafe couldn’t. Not when he knew people were going to be asking questions.
He shouldn’t be the one marrying Victoria Hayward.
It only took three-quarters of an hour to travel back to the Selkirk residence after having been there the evening before. The Viscount had been pleasant enough, and he had been respectful enough to offer his condolences.
Rafe hadn’t gone to the funeral—he didn’t think he could face anyone there in case there were more accusations of murder—so he had been surprised to hear that Selkirk’s family had come to pay their respects. He did appreciate that. The Viscount was a good man, a decent person. Rafe had always thought that about him when he was a young man. Richard was just like him.
