Marion finished dressing Claire and patted her shoulder. “Give it time, my lady. You’ve only been married a short time. Given the circumstances around your marriage, you can’t expect things to resolve themselves right away.”
Gritting her teeth, Claire forced a smile and left the room. When she reached the bottom of the steps, she was surprised to see that Roderick was getting ready to head out. “Where are you going?” she asked, striding over to him.
As he put on his hat, he turned to her. “I need to verify some financial dealings.”
“Are you going to London?”
“No. The business I need to do will be at other gentlemen’s estates.”
“But can’t I go with you?”
Though she suspected a twinge of remorse in his voice, he said, “The business I am tending to isn’t suitable for a lady.”
She frowned. What, exactly, did he mean by that?
“I won’t be gone for long. A week. Two at the most.”
“And you’re going somewhere that I can’t be at?” she asked, her spine stiffening.
“Ladies don’t partake of the business I need to tend to,” he replied. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”
She watched as he left, her hands clenching and unclenching. She knew it was her place not to inquire further. What a husband did when away from home was not to be the wife’s concern, but even so, she couldn’t deny that sting of betrayal she felt in knowing he was most likely running off to a mistress or some unsavory place where prostitutes worked.
“Are you ready to eat, my lady?” the butler asked as he approached her.
Despite her anger, she straightened her back and nodded. If Roderick thought she’d look the other way like other wives did, he had another thing coming. She might not have gotten the marriage she hoped for—one filled with love, but she could find a way to get to London. It was just a matter of looking at her situation from a different point of view. The servants wouldn’t oblige her, but that didn’t mean all was lost. She could still return to London. And she would. It was just a matter of finding out how she could get around the servants. Satisfied, at least for the moment, she went to dinner.
Chapter Thirteen
Claire let out a weary sigh as she stared out the window of the drawing room. It was cloudy, but at least it wasn’t raining. It seemed to her that just about every day since Roderick left, Weston saw rain, as if the whole place mourned his absence. It only added to the gloomy atmosphere around her. At the thought, she rolled her eyes. He’d only been gone for two and a half weeks, but it felt more like months. Perhaps time with his mistress or out gallivanting around with an unsavory crowd amused him enough to forget her altogether.
She struggled not to let his outright rejection affect her, but as the days wore on, she felt herself slipping into a state of limbo—not feeling as if she were truly here and yet knowing she was. The days were beginning to blur into one another, and that morning she had to ask Marion what day it was. Friday. It was Friday. She closed her eyes and repeated it to herself.
“My lady?”
She opened her eyes and turned her attention to the butler who held a missive in his hand.
“This came for you,” he said, holding it to her.
Her heart leapt in anticipation as she took it. As she hoped, it was from her sister! “Thank you.”
“Would you like me to bring you some tea?”
She nodded and sat on the settee by the window while he left the room. It seemed like years since she’d last seen her sister, and yet, she knew it’d only been a short time. She opened it, eager to find out if her family would make a visit. As she read through the letter, her eyes grew wide. Her sister was entertaining the affections of Lord Hedwrett, and from the way it sounded, her sister was willing to marry him if he proposed.
“Poor Mister Morris,” Claire whispered, thinking of the man who’d done everything he could think of to win her sister over.
Claire shouldn’t be surprised. Lilly was determined to marry a man with a title, and Lord Hedwrett, a viscount, would do it. With a sigh, she continued reading the letter and noted that her parents would be delighted to come for a visit but wanted to make sure Roderick extended the invitation. Claire placed the letter in her lap and debated when his invite would be possible.
“No! I won’t do it anymore. My cousin’s an earl. I deserve to be treated better than this!” someone shouted from the hallway.
Surprised, she hurried to the door in time to see an irate young man that she recognized as Lord Clement’s ward, shove the butler away from him.
“I have my orders, Mister Robinson,” the butler calmly said.
Mister Robinson grunted. “I don’t care what Lord Roderick told you to do. I’m not a stableboy. I demand to go home. This place is nothing more than a prison.”
She couldn’t help but sympathize with him. In many ways, Weston seemed like a prison to her, too. All she did was eat and sleep. Drawing and journaling her thoughts did little to ease the boredom of her life. She closed her eyes and wished she could see her family again. If she could, she’d feel connected with the world again.
The butler glanced her way and bowed. “My lady. May I get something for you?”
Clearing her throat, she shook her head. “No.” Ashamed that they caught her eavesdropping, she added, “I think I’ll go for a walk.”
“Then I need to get you a parasol in case it rains.”
Her face grew warm. So she needed something after all. He was right. If she got caught in the rain, she’d need it. As he went to retrieve it, she offered Mister Robinson a tentative smile.
The youth let out a long sigh. “How do you manage it here?”
“I keep busy,” she told him, unwilling to tell him the truth.
He stepped toward her and lowered his voice. “I don’t know how. I’d die of boredom if it weren’t for playing stableboy.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait until I’m twenty-one. I’m tired of being told what I can or can’t do. My guardian is unreasonable.”
She didn’t know why he was working at the stables, and since it was none of her business, she didn’t dare ask him.
“So you had the misfortune of marrying my guardian’s friend,” he said.
“Misfortune?” She thought that was an odd choice of words. Just what did people say when they talked about her marriage to Roderick?
“I don’t know who I feel sorrier for. I mean, I’m forced to clean out stalls all day, and you’re stuck inside the house, going about your day doing all the things ladies do.” He paused. “What do you do all day in this prison anyway?”
“I write and draw.”
“And that fulfills you?”
She shrugged. What was she supposed to say to that? Her purpose wasn’t to be fulfilled. It was to give her husband an heir. Outside of that, she didn’t know what her purpose was.
Mister Robinson’s eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t you have any interests besides writing and drawing?”
“I look forward to seeing my family.”
He laughed. “That’s not the case with me. When I see my guardian coming, I run away from him.”
“Lord Clement is a good man.”
“People say that, but I have yet to see it, though I will say he knows how to smile, even if it is with fiendish delight.”
Despite herself, she chuckled. It wasn’t appropriate for her to do so, considering he was mocking Lord Clement. Forcing aside her laughter, she said, “That’s not fair, Mister Robinson. You must be respectful of your guardian.”
“I know you’re right, but I’m rather perplexed my guardian sees it fit to put me under the care of Lord Roderick. And you know what your husband has me doing?”
“Yes, I know.”
The butler returned with her parasol, so she thanked him and took it. Since they were watching her, she nodded in their direction and headed for the front door. The butler hurried to open the door for her. Once she was outside, the door closed behind he
r and Mister Robinson had resumed his litany of complaints.
Though it wasn’t raining, she opened her parasol and took a walk along the grounds. She wished she hadn’t found Mister Robinson’s protests so interesting, but considering how little else there was to do, he had provided the greatest amount of entertainment she’d enjoyed since she’d left London.
She brushed a tear from her eye. How she wished she’d gotten her mother or father to join her on the veranda that night when her fate had been sealed. And now she’d spend the rest of her life in quiet misery, her only reprieve being the times when she could see her family since she had yet to figure out a way to escape.
She passed the flowers that bloomed along the property, but this time, she hardly saw them. She glanced at the front door of the manor and saw Mister Robinson leave for the stables. She stopped walking and watched Mister Robinson as he plopped on his hat and stomped toward the stables. From a distance, it was hard to tell if he was a young gentleman or a young lady. He was wearing men’s clothes, of course, but it occurred to her that if she wore similar clothing, she might pass for a stableboy.
As soon as the thought came to her, she rejected it. No. She couldn’t do something that outrageous. It was ridiculous she’d even entertain such an idea. She knew the way to London, but she couldn’t exactly carry her clothes with her. And she sure couldn’t continue on in London dressed in stableboy’s clothes.
With a sigh, she turned back to the path and tried to focus on the flowers. They were so pretty. Even with the overcast sky, their colors were vibrant. She supposed she could get her drawing pad and do her best to draw them, even if her talent for it was far from ideal. She went over to the flowers and traced one of the purple petals with her finger. If she could draw it in such a way that it resembled a flower, she might be inspired to paint it and hang it up.
Most of the walls in the manor had nothing of interest hanging on them. Portraits of those who lived there before was about all she’d seen. If she’d known the people, she was sure she’d be interested in them, but in some ways, walking down the hallways and passing those portraits were a bit spooky, especially at night when she imagined those eyes following her. Silly, childish imaginings. She was married now and the lady of a manor. She really should be mature enough to assume her responsibilities, and one of those responsibilities was to stop imagining things that weren’t there.
Straightening up, she continued her walk, deciding she wasn’t in the mood to draw today. She didn’t feel like playing on the piano either, and the servants would have thanked her for that if they’d ever heard her play it. Sadly, she had more talent drawing flowers than she did playing the piano.
Her steps slowed as she approached the gazebo. The sound of a horse neighing caught her attention, so she turned and saw that Mister Robinson was heading her way on a horse. Surprised, she waited for him.
He pulled the reins on the horse when he came within talking distance of her. “You walk almost every day, even when it rains?”
She shrugged. “I like to walk.”
“There’s no denying that, but I can’t help but notice you aren’t smiling.”
She didn’t know what to say to that so she kept silent. She glanced at the gazebo where she usually sat for a while during the day and let her mind wander. With him staring at her, she thought it’d be rude to do so now, but at the same time, she had no idea what to say to him.
“Lady Roderick, isn’t there something you want to do? Something that will bring a smile to your face?”
She turned her attention back to him, wondering if she should be reading more into his suggestive smile than she initially had. “Where are you going with this?”
“I thought perhaps you might like to try something new.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “New in what way?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Pardon me, my lady. I meant nothing inappropriate, I assure you. I only meant to ask if there’s anything I can do to help ease the burden of living in this dreadful place? I was wondering if I can do something to bring some light to your dark world.”
“The only thing that would brighten my day is if I saw my family, especially my sister.”
“Your sister?”
“Yes, she and I are close. That is, we were close. But then I married, and…” Unable to find the words to continue, she shrugged.
“I understand.” He sat back in the saddle and slapped his hand on his leg. “You need to visit your family. That’s easy enough. Tell the footman and coach driver to take you to her residence.”
“I can’t,” she slowly replied.
“Do you need an invitation?”
“No. They won’t take me there without Lord Roderick’s approval.”
Mister Robinson grunted and rolled his eyes. “Not without Lord Roderick’s approval? You’re his wife, not his ward.”
“But he is my husband, and they listen to him before they listen to me.”
“Well, he’s not here now. And when he was here, he kept to himself to the point where I began to wonder if I imagined him.”
“No, you didn’t imagine him. He’s very real.” Though she knew it was wrong, she quickly added, “I’ve seen him scowl with grave disapproval many times, so I know this for a fact.”
His eyes lit up and he chuckled. “You have a marvelous sense of humor, my lady. One wouldn’t think it upon first meeting you. I suspect the almighty Lord Roderick’s scowls have had an unpleasant effect on you.”
“There are certain things about our marriage that—” She stopped herself in time before she embarrassed herself. Mister Robinson was cunning in extracting information from her, but she’d told him more than enough already and was determined that she wouldn’t say any more.
He shrugged. “Some gentlemen are unlovable. It can’t be helped.” He studied the sky for a moment and then grinned. “You should see your family. How far are they from here?”
“I’m afraid it’d take two days to get there. I can’t leave in the morning and come back in the evening.”
“So? You don’t need anyone’s permission to go. Stay there for a few days. Even better than that, stay there forever. Then you can get out of this prison. I know I’d never come back if it was me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t run out of here with the carriage. It’s so big everyone will notice me. And I can’t travel alone on horseback because I’m not a gentleman.”
His lips curled up into a wide smile. “Lady Roderick, you have a terrific idea!”
“No. I can’t do it.”
“Of course you can.”
She shook her head. No, she couldn’t. There was no way she could.
“You don’t have to be a gentleman to look like one. I could lend you my stableboy’s clothes.”
“But I couldn’t keep stableboy clothes while in London.”
“I’m sure your family can provide ladies’ clothes upon your arrival. If you want to get out of here, then do it.”
She was ready to argue, but the more she considered his words, the more she realized he was right. She could do it. She could get out of this place. This was the break she needed! No one else was willing to help her, but Mister Robinson was. With a firm nod, she said, “All right. I’ll do it.”
Mister Robinson laughed. “Marvelous, Lady Roderick. It’ll be our secret. I won’t tell a soul. I’ll set out a pair of clothes for you on the small shelf behind the servants’ stairs. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Get them late tonight when everyone’s asleep. Then after breakfast, come to the stable dressed up as a stableboy. I’ll help gather enough food and water for your trip and find you a suitable horse so you can be on your way.”
She nodded her agreement and watched as he rode back to the stable. It was a gamble. This could backfire on her, but she was desperate to try anything at this point. And though Mister Robinson was known for getting in trouble, she sensed that deep down, he was someon
e she could trust.
Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she turned toward the gazebo but realized she didn’t want to sit there today. No. Today she wanted to think upon this new plan to get away from Weston, and if Roderick came after her, she’d deal with the consequences then.
***
That night while in the carriage on his way back to Weston, Nate couldn’t seem to push aside the nagging feeling that he’d somehow pushed Claire too far. He’d seen the spark of defiance in her eyes when he told her the business he needed to tend to wasn’t suitable for a lady. She most likely suspected he was off enjoying himself with a mistress.
But what else could he do? Tell her the steward had been dishonest in how he handled the funds? Tell her the steward had made some gambling bets with Lord Hedwrett and couldn’t pay everything back at once without arousing Nate’s suspicions? Tell her that Lord Hedwrett refused to be paid back in installments?
He sighed. He should have taken the time to check the ledger after his brother died. But how could he have known the steward embezzled the funds? The steward had been a trusted servant. He’d handled the finances while both his father and brother lived. No one suspected any foul play. Had Lord Hedwrett not contacted him directly, he wouldn’t have been the wiser. Well, he was wiser now, and now that he’d settled the debts the steward had made, he could wipe the slate clean and start over.
He glanced out his carriage window. It wasn’t even dawn yet. The night was taking too long to pass. He shifted in the carriage seat. Maybe he should have stayed at another inn, but he was tired of traveling. Day after day, he ran from one place to another. All he wanted to do was go home to his comfortable bed and sleep for a year.
He groaned and peered up at the sky, trying to determine how early it was. Not even a hint of light was in the sky, which meant he had little else to do but think. Though he was exhausted, he couldn’t sleep. He had drifted off to sleep as soon as he got in the carriage, but he had a dream that he and Claire had a son, and the son was asking her who he was and she told him he was his father. Then his son asked what a father was. At that point, Nate woke up and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep since.
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