Born of Persuasion (38 page)

“Henry,” he said in a quiet voice, “will you see me out?”

Henry’s entire body swelled like a bullfrog’s, but Elizabeth
redirected him with a whispered word. Henry frowned at whatever she said, but then after studying Edward a moment, joined him.

I stepped aside, allowing the brothers to pass. Once they turned the corner, I shut the door and sagged against the wall and covered my mouth to hide my sob.

Reynolds stepped from a dark corner, his face soft.

I hastily wiped my eyes and straightened. “I—I didn’t see you. Were you there the entire time?”

“I was waiting for you.” His tone was sympathetic as he offered his arm. “Are you ready for bed?”

Reading his offer for a truce, I took his arm.

“Was he a former suitor, then?” Reynolds asked gently.

“Yes.” My voice came out thick. “Once I thought I would marry him.”

“Ah.” Reynolds gave my hand a pat before he removed a candle from a wall sconce. A ring of light illuminated the passage we threaded.

A few silent minutes slipped by before I gained the ability to ask, “How good a friend is Rooke to Mr. Macy?”

Reynolds shot me a chiding look. “I never inquire about Mr. Macy’s guests. Nor do I comment on them.”

“Oh.” My disappointment echoed through the stone hall.

He smiled. “Neither do I comment on former suitors, though I imagine Mr. Macy will have his own way of learning what passed between the two of you. Your chambers, Miss Elliston.” He opened my door.

Alone, I stripped off my dress and wrapped myself in bed, curling my fingers into the downy pillow. Rooke’s statement continued to unsettle me. Of course, I realized, Mr. Macy kept his household under surveillance. He had enemies. I had been childish and naive. Why had I instructed Reynolds to allow Edward to come in at all?

Why couldn’t I have foreseen that it served no purpose except to further hurt us?

I turned on my stomach, appalled that I’d allowed matters to go so far. It was one thing to allow Mr. Macy to assume risk by marrying me—but quite another to pull those I loved most into the intrigue.

“WAKE, MISS! Please wake.” Nancy’s frantic shaking pulled me from my slumber. Beneath her freckles, her face was pale. Sun streamed through her red hair, which was still unbound.

I propped myself on my elbows. “What?”

“That servant.” She panted for breath. “He telled everyone that thou is sharing Mr. Macy’s bed.”

“Wait, wait.” I clutched the sheet, sitting. “What?”

“Mr. Forrester’s manservant. Before breakfast he announced to th’ staff that thou were spending thy nights in Macy’s bed.”

“Are you certain that’s what he said?”

“I heard it with me own ears.”

I rubbed my fingers over my forehead, nausea souring my stomach. The mantel clock marked an hour before breakfast. My various thoughts channelled into a stream of agreement. I needed to be the first to breakfast in order to defend myself.

“Hurry, dress me.” I motioned her to move out of my way. While Nancy gathered my things, I paced. The hardest thing to
reconcile was the fact I
had
been spending my nights with Mr. Macy. Impossible to rectify.

Nancy wasted no time. With deft fingers she buttoned, tucked, and smoothed my gown. My world felt shaken, but the steady way she twisted and pinned my hair in place gave me a measure of surety.

To my relief, Reynolds waited outside my door. He bowed. “Did you sleep well?”

I closed my door, but my fingers shook too much to lock it. He obliged.

“Reynolds,” I said as he pocketed his key, “there seems to be a rumor circulating amongst the servants.”

“Ah, so you heard.” He tucked my arm under his with a pat. “Act natural. If it’s mentioned, which I highly doubt, act bothered that your time was wasted.”

Somehow, I hadn’t anticipated that advice. “How did the rumor start?”

“Mr. Forrester’s manservant.”

“How did he know?”

“Know what, Miss Elliston?” He cocked his head toward me. “Unless Mr. Macy reminds me of something I forgot, as his personal valet, I’m with him every night. A most ridiculous notion if you ask me.”

His response was so unexpected, I held my peace as he guided me.

Near the pillared hall, I asked, “Did Reverend Auburn leave last night?”

Reynolds did not betray even a flicker of emotion. “Yes, just before midnight.” It was at least one gain. Edward wouldn’t be on hand when the scandal broke. I dismissed Reynolds with a nod, lest our being seen together confirm the reports.

Footmen stood in the breakfast chamber polishing silver and rubbing flannel over the crystal goblets. The way they ceased their banter upon spotting me in the doorway served
to confirm my belief they’d heard the rumor. I backed into the hall.

Away from their view, I leaned against one of the cold pillars and slowly slid down until I was seated. The scent of soaplees and turpentine rose from the recently scrubbed floor. I buried my eyes in the palms of my hands.

I drew my knees to my chest, then folded my arms over them, ignoring the strain on my stays. I tried to imagine what Mama would tell me to do, but could only hear her telling me to be safe. It was what she said every time I left the house.

Well, she’d have her wish. I would be safe. Hopefully Mr. Macy might never learn about Edward’s visit. With such a scandal circulating, I couldn’t risk Mr. Macy not marrying me now.

“Julia?”

I opened my eyes to find Elizabeth bending over me. Concern etched her brow as she stooped and placed her cool fingers in mine.

“Will you promise me something?” I asked.

Her fingers gripped mine. “Yes. What?”

It was hard to speak through the tears. “Do not be angry with me today, no matter what you learn about me, or I won’t be able to bear it.”

“Learn what, dearest?”

Tears blurred my vision but I could not tell her.

“I swear,” Elizabeth said, tightening her fingers over mine. “I’ll keep Henry in line too. And you know Edward will stand by you.”

I blinked. “Edward?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Goose! Her ladyship only said he couldn’t spend a night under
this
roof. So he and Henry sought out a local clergyman, and Edward spent the night in his barn.”

I felt horrified. “And what about that pig farmer, Robbie . . . Robbie . . .”

“White,” Elizabeth finished for me. “He doesn’t breed pigs,
thank goodness! Mama is right. I wouldn’t want his swine on my table either.” Then seeing my expression, she grinned. “Don’t worry about her ladyship. The fact that Edward bested her will only delight, not anger her. You disapprove, but wait; you’ll see I’m right.”

Before I could argue, a pair of booted feet raced nearby. A tousled-looking Henry turned the corner. He greeted Elizabeth with a grin, then scowled at me, pulling on his coat. “No more of your nonsense,” he ordered. “I’ve kept Edward from learning about your flirtation with . . .” He jerked his head, indicating our surroundings, as if Mr. Macy and Eastbourne were one. He lowered his head and his tone. “I’ve about had it with Edward and you! Don’t expect me to keep interfering on your behalf.”

He turned and stomped through the entrance hall and outdoors before I could retort. I allowed my head to sink against the pillar. “Elizabeth, can you stop him?”

Frowning, she crossed her arms.

I gave a laugh, realizing the folly of my request. Nothing stopped Henry once he set his mind to something. Elizabeth was equally mulish. Together they were tempestuous; few could stand against them.

Edward and I had always managed, though.

I rubbed my temples. There was no utilizing his help. Besides the fact that I suspected his intentions aligned with theirs, I needed to place distance between us today. When Mr. Macy learned about the kiss we’d shared, at the very least I wanted to be able to show him that I had spurned all contact with Edward afterwards.

I shut my eyes, realizing that day would be amongst the hardest in my life. Besides balancing a scandal that could make me unmarriageable against one of Henry and Elizabeth’s mad schemes, I needed to break my own heart by ending my relationship with Edward, firmly enough so he’d go home, but
hopefully not so harshly that he’d hate me for the rest of his life—for that I could not bear.

My thoughts came in quick succession, and I made my resolutions just as quickly, so that by the time I held out my hands, asking for Elizabeth to help pull me to my feet, scarcely a few seconds had passed.

“You know as well as I do,” she answered my question about stopping Henry, “it’s for your own good.” She laced her fingers in mine. “Come on, let’s go eat some breakfast. I’ll tell you about the labyrinth. You and Edward really ought to explore it.”

Elizabeth paid the footmen no mind as we entered the breakfast chamber and chatted about how Henry had wooed her last night, as if they weren’t present.

I helped myself to a cup of coffee and then, stirring it, considered the staff. Daily, I realized, they witnessed our secret lives, guessed at the ghosts in our past, and carried the ability to ruin us with a single word.

The thought was a stunning one. My entire life I’d lamented the fact we only had Sarah and, before my father’s death, doddering old Luther. Elizabeth and I used to roll our eyes whenever Henry and Edward would meet us beneath the ancient oak and inform us we were lucky as they stripped off shoes, stockings, stiff frock coats and then ran their fingers through their hair that had been waxed in place, in order to play.

I scraped the bottom of my cup with my spoon, for the first time understanding them. Whereas Elizabeth and I had always been free to run from Am Meer barefoot—as neither Sarah nor Hannah could manage more than a short dash—the boys had to face an army of face-washings, spoonfuls of cod-liver oil, and lectures not to ruin their polished shoes before breaking their way outdoors.

As the footmen continued to set up the buffet, pretending not to hear Elizabeth laughing over the bad verse Henry had written and shared, I considered the idea that if I wed Mr. Macy
my every movement would be known, especially given the way he managed his household.

I set my spoon aside, ignoring the tightening in my stomach. With a sip of coffee, I realized Edward and I were switching places. He’d finally broken free—throwing off all conventions in this mad attempt to live out his ideals, which I knew from my father’s example would make him a pariah. Whereas I had left that horrible circle and now moved toward the glittering lights of society—but at the cost of confinement.

I wasn’t certain if Edward would like his new circumstances, but I was determined to enjoy mine. That was, if I survived the obstacles until Macy returned.

By midmorning, I had harrowed my heart over forty times. Edward could not approach me without receiving a bedamning glare. He could not please, could say nothing which I did not spurn. I accepted none of his tender ministrations. If he offered a chair, I went to the window. If he fixed a plate, I wrinkled my nose. If he asked to speak, I expressed my need of solitude. Each time he lifted his eyes with hurt confusion, anguish lit through me. But I could not relent. I suppose some might wonder why I did not just confess my full situation to my friends, rather than driving them away with my actions. But I knew them well enough to know if they learned about my guardian, they’d act, exposing themselves to this person’s wrath. The very fact they were intruding upon my trip to find a husband proved it.

Better, I reasoned, to inflict pain on them myself, if in the end it meant sparing them greater hurt.

By early afternoon, Edward ceased trying to engage my attention and retreated from the room. Only Elizabeth seemed to suspect I was breaking my own heart. With hurt confusion she watched me as I continued to play faro with her and Lady Foxmore, as if not caring.

Glaring at me, Henry stalked after Edward. Only then did the hurt rise, and did my throat tighten. Could I really just force Edward to leave me alone by ignoring him? My remaining bets slipped from my fingers onto the green felt.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I whispered to Lady Foxmore, unable to stand it.