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She turned around, but he did not allow her a chance to speak. He threw his hand up in the air, waving the note.
“This is a forgery, but you have already made up your mind about me, have you not? No matter what I do, you will always be suspicious of me, as you always were when we were growing up.”
He raked a hand through his hair.
“You have misjudged me from the beginning, and it is not fair that I have worked so hard to prove to you the kind of man I have become. But evidently, it will never be enough, will it? You will always view me as the boy who tricked you. Well, I am done, Ellen. I do not deserve this.”
He turned and stormed out of the room, crumpling the note and throwing it behind him as he went. He did not stop until he was at the end of the hall. He strode into the schoolroom, slamming the door behind him. He paced the length of the room, giving rise to his anger.
The room was tidy but still smelled of dust. The air was thick and musky, but he did not care. Ellen had crossed the bounds this time. He would not be the one to crawl back on his belly and make amends. Either she would see the error of her ways and apologise, or they would spend the rest of their lives in stony silence.
Chapter 37
Christmas Day
Ellen awoke in the silence of her room, feeling just as miserable as she had the day before. She rubbed her eyes and then started massaging her temples. It had been a long night spent tossing and turning with worry over what had transpired between her and Simon. His words had struck a chord, despite her inward arguing that he had not. Guilt washed over her again. Was she not being unfair to him, as her mother had suggested? She turned over on her side and let out a long breath.
It was Christmas morning, yet she did not feel the joy she should. She had thought she would wake up next to her husband, attend church at his side, and then spend a wonderful and relaxed day at home with her family. Now, the day had lost its meaning. If she and Simon were not together, what point was there in life now?
She sat up stiffly, rubbing the back of her neck to try and release some of the tension. She looked over at the door that joined their rooms, still bolted shut from her side. She doubted that Simon would have tried to come into her room. He had looked so angry when he had stalked out of the room the previous evening.
She huffed, climbing out of bed. She wrapped a woollen shawl around her shoulders and padded to the window in her stocking feet. The room was cold, but she did not move to ring for Ambers and have the fire relit. She wanted nothing but to be alone with her thoughts.
When she arrived at the window, she parted the curtains. It had snowed during the night, and she was awed by how beautiful the scene was.Simon would be pleased,she thought. But then, all the hurt from the night before seemed to seep into every fibre of her being.
A heavy fog lay over the land, and she watched as the wind made it swirl and move as if it had a mind of its own. Grey light was trying to break through, but it was difficult to see past the wall of gloom. She wrapped her arms more tightly around her middle and stood there for a long while, looking out at the landscape.
Suddenly, she turned from the window and decided to leave the room. There was no sense in her remaining there to wallow in her gloom. She dressed in a simple day dress and wrapped her shawl about her shoulders again. At least if she went downstairs, the fires would likely be lit.
She headed down to the library, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake anyone. When she came to the grand staircase, she was surprised to see how festive it looked. She had left the greenery hanging to the rest of the family when she and Simon had left.
A pang of guilt assailed her. The house looked beautiful, and she had done nothing to make it so. She had been caught up in her own troubles. Had she ruined the day for her family? What had they done once she had stormed off to stew in her room?
She let out a breath, stopping mid-way down the staircase. Was she being foolish? Simon had not lied to her before. Why should he start now?
She started down the staircase again but paused when she heard voices from the first floor just below where she stood. Ellen moved out of sight as best she could. None of the servants expected the family to be awake for several hours yet. She was unsure why she felt the need to hide, but she did so anyway.
“And you did not think to bring this to Lord Simon’s attention?” a female voice sounded from below. “Did you not think it important to share, seeing as Lady Genevieve was acting so strangely about the note?”
Ellen’s heart nearly stopped. She leaned in closer so she could hear better, barely breathing as she tried to listen to every word.
“I did not think about it at the time. She told me it was a note from her father,” a boy’s voice sounded, and she thought she recognised the hall boy’s voice.
“I overheard a little bit of their argument yesterday. She was upset because the note was apparently from Lord Simon, addressed to Lady Genevieve. At least, that is how it appeared.”
The hall boy paused for a moment. Ellen risked a glance down, spotting the young compatriots tucked just under the staircase. “That cannot be. Lady Genevieve gave me the note and said it was from her father for Lord Simon. However, that is the odd thing about the whole situation. She said it was imperative that I placed it somewhere that Lady Ellen would be sure to find it.”
The maid gave a low growl of frustration. “And even then, you did not think to tell anyone? Lord Simon’s marriage is in jeopardy now, and you could have been the one to help them avoid this whole mess.”
Ellen leaned back, holding her hand over her chest. She had been such a fool! Of course, it all made sense now. Simon had been genuine when he said he had never seen the note before. Lady Genevieve had set them up and waited for the axe to fall. She had forged the letter in Simon’s hand and then had the hall boy plant the note. Of course!
Anger rose in her. How had she allowed Lady Genevieve to slip in and almost destroy what she and Simon had built? It was not much yet, but she had nearly let it ruin their relationship before it had really had a chance to get started. Her angry words that she had screamed at him the night before flew back in her face. She felt terrible for how she had misjudged him yet again, and she turned to hurry back toward her room.
When she arrived at Simon’s door, she knocked, waiting for what seemed like ages. She had no idea how she would make up for all the pain she had caused him again. But she had to try. Her mother was right. She should have humbled herself and gone to him as soon as she had found the letter and not jumped to conclusions.
After several minutes, she knocked again. Perhaps he had not slept the night before, as she had not, only to fall into an exhausted slumber as the sun was beginning to rise.
When he did not answer after several more minutes, she went into her room and tried the adjoining door. As soon as she was inside her room, she hurried to the adjacent door and gave a furtive knock. She placed her ear to the door, listening for signs of movement. None came.
