AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He followed Mari and the children outside. Mrs. Fairfield began supervising the loading of the carriage. Was that one of his trunks?
After he helped the children, and then Mari, into the carriage, she looked at him expectantly.
He hadn’t told her.
“Off you go then. Have so much fun,” he said, hoping he was mistaken and they knew he wasn’t accompanying them. “Bring me back some shells.”
“You’re... you’re not coming with us?” Mari asked, the light leeching from her eyes.
The children stared at him. “You’re not coming, Father?”
“I can’t.” He straightened his cravat. “I thought I’d told you. We’re testing the new engine design at The Vulcan today.”
“Oh,” said Mari.
Such a short little word with such vast meaning.
He’d disappointed everyone. Again.
He backed away from the carriage. Nodded at the coachman.
Waved as the carriage left.
It was the right thing to do. For everyone’s sake. He needed to work. The children wanted to see the seashore.
Mari needed to get away from London, after her harrowing experience with Haddock and... he wanted to saddle a horse and chase after them.
If it was the right thing to do... why did it feel so wrong?
Mrs. Fairfield gave him an accusatory look.
“What?” he asked.
“You know what. Those children thought you were going with them. And so did Miss Perkins. I even thought you were going. I had your trunks packed. They’re with the other trunks.”
He hadn’t told anyone he was staying here? “I thought I told everyone about testing the engine today.”
“Apparently you did not.” She shook her head. “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.”
“Now you’re the one spouting proverbs?”
“Miss Perkins has vastly improved the household, and she’s gained the twins’ trust. It’s just a shame that she can’t trust you.”
And what in the devil was that supposed to mean? Mrs. Fairfield had never spoken in that tone to him before.
He trailed her back into the house, where even Robertson gave him a disappointed look, and that was saying a lot, because Robertson’s facial expressions usually ranged from impassive to glacial.
“You as well, Robertson?” Edgar asked. “Has my entire household turned on me?”
“I like Miss Perkins, Your Grace,” the butler said. “And...” He drew himself up. “And... she deserves better.”
Robertson marched out of the entrance hall.
Wait a moment, wasn’t his butler supposed to stay in the entrance hall?
It was clearly mutiny. And all because he’d sent his children and their governess on a delightful seaside holiday.
All you’ve done, a voice whispered in his mind,is turn your back on everything you care about.
