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Chapter Twenty-Five
How Chastity ended up by the stables, she did not know, but she gulped down breaths of fresh air in a bid to loosen the tightness in her chest as she stumbled out of the rear door.
The word rebounded about her mind. Ridiculous.
You are being ridiculous.
She couldn’t even hear the words in Valentine’s voice anymore. No, it was John saying it. Scolding her for questioning him, mocking her for asking where he’d been, why he was lying to her or why he never treated her with an ounce of kindness.
You are being ridiculous.
Was it ridiculous to expect the man she loved to wish to share their marriage bed? To show some interest in her? To not deride her in front of others or pick apart her every flaw? He was meant to love her, yet he always treated her with utter contempt.
How could Valentine throw those same words at her so easily knowing the pain they would cause?
“Chastity?”
She jolted, lifting her head to find Tom in front of her, sitting high up in the wagon, reins in hand.
“Something the matter?” He gestured to her face.
She touched her cheek and found it damp. She eyed her fingertips and frowned. How strange. She hadn’t cried over John’s behavior in an eternity. It had seemed utterly pointless. Had Valentine been the cause of these tears?
“Can I take you home?” Tom offered softly.
She swallowed and nodded. Time to gather herself was needed. Time to think on what Valentine said. Was it true? That he had never sired a child out of wedlock?
It did not change the fact he had lied to her or spoke so senselessly when he knew he could hurt her most gravely, though. Today’s hopes had been swept out from underneath her.
Tom aided her up and flicked the reins once she was settled on the hard wooden seat beside him, guiding the wagon out of the courtyard and onto the road. The footman navigated the small vehicle through the streets with ease, so Chastity let herself lean back and concentrate on deep breaths to loosen the throbbing pain in her chest.
Perhaps she had been all wrong about Valentine and he did not love her at all. John had always said she was out of her wits. Maybe he was not wrong.
It was only when they took a turn onto a country road that Chastity sat up and paid attention to their journey. Hedges lined the narrow road, and the townhouses were far behind, giving way to cottages at irregular intervals. The wagon bumped its way over the ruts in the dirt with surprising speed. She gripped the side of the vehicle when they hit a deep rut and she bounced about on the seat.
“Tom, this is not the way home.” She eyed his profile and froze.
Unless Charlotte had told him about her, he would not have even known where home was but even then, there was no chance he thought it to be so far outside of Town.
Chin set, his brow remained furrowed, and tension revealed itself in his stiff shoulders and tight knuckles. He did not even appear dressed to drive, still wearing his livery. In fact, she could not think why he had even been in the wagon now. He’d never had to drive it while she had been working at the house.
“Tom?” she pressed. “Where are we going?” She twisted to eye the empty road. They were alone. “Tom!” she snapped.
He swung a brief look at her. “I didn’t mean for it to be this way.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You are rich, are you not?” He gestured to the jewels about her neck. “You’ll have to hand those over.”
“You intend to rob me?”
He shrugged.
“But, Tom, this isn’t you.” They hit another bump in the road and she flung her hands wide to grip the seat, trying to stabilize herself. “Please stop or you’ll kill us both.”
“This will do,” he announced when they came upon a small farm building used to house the tools from a nearby farm. Brick gave way to dark stained wood and a tiled roof, offering a shadowy shelter full of farming equipment. But no people.
As soon as the wagon came to a halt, Chastity scrabbled to climb down, her feet catching in the delicate lace that swept over the silk of her pale blue gown. It was the only time she missed her more practical maid’s uniform.
