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Joshua knew Miles was right, but he didn’t know how to stop. Life had prepared him for many things, but not how to face his darkest moments. Someone ought to have taught him.
In the drawing room, Miles poured two whiskies, then rang for Butler. “We’ll need hot water and soap,” he instructed, “and clean towels.” When Butler went out, Miles looked Joshua up and down. “What in bloody hell is the matter with you, lad?”
“That’s an excellent question,” Joshua said. “I don’t have a satisfactory answer for you.” He felt sick to his stomach. He felt his head was exploding. Everything he thought and felt was wrong. He wanted to explain that to Miles, but he didn’t know where to begin. He was in love? That was almost laughable after the last two years. He didn’t know how he could feel it at all, given his state. But he could. It had knitted into his sinew. He was in love and frightened of it. Which meant that on top of everything else, he was a damn coward.
Butler returned several minutes later with the clean towels and water. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but Lady Aleksander has come to call.”
She was the last person Joshua could tolerate. “Jesus, not now,” he said, and picked up a towel.
“Mr. Butler? I won’t be turned away!” That was Lady Aleksander, shouting from down the hall. Miles looked at Joshua with confusion. “What’s happened?”
“I have no idea. But I can’t abide her cheerfulness just now.”
Miles sighed. “Bring her in.”
“For God’s sake, Miles, stop—”
“What do you want me to do?” Miles snapped. “Watch you drown in despair? If you have another suggestion for how I may help you, for the love of God, tell me!”
Joshua opened his mouth to argue, but Miles threw up his hand. “Don’t speak, Joshua. Just look at you.Lookat you!”
Joshua didn’t have to look to know what Miles meant.
Lady Aleksander swept into the drawing room behind Butler looking a little like a wild cat that wanted to claw someone’s eyes out.
“Lady Aleksander?” Miles said. “Is everything all right?”
“Ask your friend, my lord.”
“Believe me, madam, I have tried. What is the matter?”
“Where shall I begin? With his worst offense?”
“His offense? I don’t understand—”
“Lord Iddesleigh has discovered who owns Goosefeather Abbey.” She glared at Joshua.
The abbey.Joshua’s muddled brain tried to pull a thought from the pile of neglected thoughts.
“And?”
“You don’t know? The Duke of Marley owns Goosefeather Abbey. Or, I should say, hedidown it, until this week, when he sold it to an Irishman. Who wants to tear it down and build a mill.”
“Oh my God,” Joshua said. The thought he’d been trying to extract exploded into the forefront. He’d completely forgotten about his instruction to Cox to sell the abbey. What had he said? He’d told him to sell it, but—
“What?” Miles looked at Joshua with even more confusion, if that was possible. “You own the abbey?”
Joshua needed to gather his thoughts, toremember. But it was difficult, because all he could seem to recall was Amelia talking about the abbey. Her purpose. It gave her purpose. It gave her hope. And he’d just knocked that out from under her. What had he said to Cox? He’d instructed him to sell it. What did he think would happen? He thought someone would protest, surely, some group that wanted to preserve antiquities. He’d so cavalierly told Cox to sell it with the vague notion it would not sell, that it would be as difficult as selling Hollyfield.
“What about the girls at the school? What about their education, their chance in this world?” Lady Aleksander demanded.
He thought of the girls in their garden, and his stomach clenched with nausea. “They deserve it,” Joshua said. “That and more.”
“Thenwhy?How could you do such a thing? You sat at Lord Iddesleigh’s table and listened to him talk about his hopes for the abbey and you never said a word!”
Yes, he had done that, and at the time, he’d had no remorse.
He had buckets of it now. He had to fix this. He needed to speak to Cox at once. He had to go to London, now. Today. He needed to see Amelia.
