He regretted coming here, even if he knew it was for his friend’s benefit. It was too overwhelming to see Miss Richards in every tiny blossom that lined the sidewalk, in the swishing folds of every colorful dress that she might have worn.
“Henry, I am in danger.” Solomon’s grave voice finally broke the silence that had fallen between them.
Henry jumped slightly at the interruption of his thoughts. “What threatens you?”
“What threatens me?” Solomon repeated with a rueful laugh. “The same thing that has always threatened me. Intimacy. After all these years of thinking I had abandoned any inclination toward such a vulnerable state, I seem to have found myself right back where I started.
“It was foolish of me to take up a serious courtship and develop such an interest in a woman. I should have been satisfied with flattering the various ladies of my acquaintance until they proved their interest only in my title and wealth. That made it easy for me to break things off and turn my attention to another. I could have carried on that way for years. I’m still young enough, after all. All this business about heirs can wait.
“Miss Juliet was the first woman to truly capture my attention in years. I assumed she would turn out like all the rest. In fact, I even sort of hoped she would, so I could set her aside before I became too attached, for I could feel it happening even from the very beginning.”
Henry couldn’t help smiling a little as he thought back on the early days of their acquaintance with the Richards sisters, and how flustered Solomon had been. It was a nice change for Henry to see a side of his friend he hadn’t glimpsed in a long time, a side he had thought he would never see again.
“The anger and hurt and shock in me wants to claim that I’ve been tricked again like...” Solomon trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence for Henry to know the event he now thought of. He glanced to his friend and saw a twitch in his jaw and a darkness in his eyes that only appeared when he thought back to that period.
“But it couldn’t be that same situation again. That wouldn’t make sense,” Henry offered. “It was mere days after she broke off the engagement that the newspaper announced her impending wedding to that duke.”
Solomon flinched at the reminder of one of his darkest moments, and Henry was loath to bring it up but he needed to make his point. “If Miss Juliet was being courted by someone else at the same time, wouldn’t you have heard talk of it? She has been quite popular this Season, but I haven’t heard that she’s accepted anyone else’s attentions as often as yours.”
“Exactly.” Solomon tilted his chin up, eyes gazing into the pale blue sky thoughtfully. “My initial reaction was to compare Miss Juliet to that previous horrid incident. But something in me tells me that whatever her reasons are for breaking off from me, they are vastly different. Yet I still cannot surmise what else could be the cause. I can’t imagine that her parents don’t find me favorable. They nearly throw themselves at me every time I call on them. Could it be that she simply...doesn’t like me?”
Solomon’s voice grew quiet and insecure, an occurrence so rare that it was jarring to Henry.
“Well I suppose that is a possibility. But my instinct tells me that is also not the case. When you asked me to accompany you on your calls, I also agreed to act as an unbiased observer.
“From what I’ve seen thus far, she seemed very taken with you. And not just with your charming behavior, and certainly not your title. Her eyes seemed to try to see you, truly see you. And you seemed to respond in kind.”
“That’s just the thing. Despite all this, I know you are right. I felt it, too. Yet somehow knowing that makes not knowing why she has forsaken me that much worse. Something has afflicted her, and I am powerless to help because I am being kept at arm's length. I cannot stand this feeling of helplessness. If only I could speak to her, I’m sure we could overcome whatever keeps her from me.”
The frustration in Solomon’s voice rang clear in the golden evening air. Henry rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed. “I am truly sorry, Solomon. I’m not sure I have any answers or suggest—”
Henry’s hand slipped from Solomon’s shoulder as his eyes locked on an unexpected sight. Time froze and Henry found himself trapped in this horrible, gut-wrenching moment.
“Henry?” Solomon’s startled voice came to him as if through a thick wooden door. It reverberated hollowly in his ear before echoing back upon itself. Henry’s eyes could only stare ahead at the scene before him. As far as Henry knew in that moment, Solomon and the whole of London could have been on another planet.
At first glance, Henry could have sworn that his eyes deceived him. But now, rooted to his spot, stuck in this agonizing loop, Henry had plenty of time to confirm the truth.
Across the walkway, perched in a small, slow moving curricle driven by a finely dressed groom, sat Miss Cecilia Richards. Next to her was a dashing young gentleman clad in what could only have been a brand-new outfit, perhaps made specifically for this outing.
Whatever he said must have been exceedingly witty or charming, for Miss Richards flashed her breathtaking smile and quickly hid behind her hand as she laughed in response.
Henry could just barely make out that sweet tinkling sound that he’d come to love. Or perhaps he only imagined he did. It was so easy for him to hear it in his own mind now, as he’d mentally recreated it dozens of times each day.
Of course, Henry knew that Miss Richards would inevitably continue searching for a match. It was foolish to think that his silence had rendered her too distressed to venture back into the marriage mart at the first opportunity.
In truth, she looked entirely at ease with her companion and her surroundings. She looked to be exactly where she belonged—out enjoying company on a bright day.
She looked happy.
“Oh no...” Solomon’s muttered curse broke Henry’s trance. “I think it’s about time we head back, Henry.”
Solomon gripped Henry’s elbow and turned him around so sharply that Henry stumbled over his own feet. He hoped Miss Richards hadn’t heard any commotion and turned to see him. Solomon marched him out of the park as quickly as possible, maintaining his firm hold on Henry’s elbow.
The short carriage ride back to Henry’s home consisted mostly of Solomon bombarding Henry with dozens of questions, asking every few seconds if he was alright. Too dazed to properly respond, Henry simply waved away each query, mumbling things he couldn’t remember.
Though Solomon had initially planned on returning Henry and going straight home, the earl followed Henry into the town house. Despite Solomon’s continuous jabbering about Henry’s well-being trailing behind him through the foyer and down the hallway, Henry didn’t pay it any mind. Everything else fell away into background noise.
“Henry, wait!” The shout stirred Henry out of his stupor long enough to realize that he’d made it to his study and was in the process of closing the door in Solomon’s face.
“What are you still doing here?” Henry asked, his voice dry and monotone. He stared at his friend on the other side of the door without feeling. His closest friend since boyhood now seemed like a stranger somehow. Everything inside Henry had gone blank and numb.
“Henry, answer me for once. Are you quite well? I know seeing that can’t have been—” Solomon slipped his muscular arm through the door, trying to worm his way in. But Henry held firm.
“Let’s not speak of that. I’m fine. As fine as anyone might expect. I don’t see why I shouldn’t be.”
“Come on, Henry. You are not yourself right now. Let me in, please.” Solomon wriggled against the door in earnest but Henry continued to push against him.
“I’m as much myself as I’ve ever been. I really should get to work now. You can see yourself out, I trust. I’m no longer in the mood for company.”
Henry could bring no life to his voice. He could hear how cold and hollow he sounded as he banished his friend, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Thi
s surprised Solomon enough that he stood back from the door, his eyes round with shock and mouth slightly ajar. “Hen—”
But Henry had already closed the door. He waited there for several moments, long enough to hear Solomon’s footsteps retreat down the hall.
When he was sure he was alone, Henry dragged himself to his desk and slowly sank into his chair. His own copy of the completed draft sprawled before him. It had only taken him another week to complete the book after his discussion with Solomon.
Henry stared at the pages now, crisp and fresh. But they all looked cold and empty and pointless now.
Miss Richards was well and truly gone from him. The hundreds of times he imagined turning up at her door and apologizing for his behavior now crumbled into ashes. She had seemed so happy at the park with that gentleman, so happy to be part of Society.
And why shouldn’t she be happy? This room, these pages before him, were Henry’s life. She couldn’t be part of it. She belonged out there in eternal sunshine meeting friends and enjoying events.
He picked up the stack of pages and slipped them into a large folder, ready to be brought to Frye for publication.
This was the life he had chosen. He chose a life of solitude. He chose a life without Miss Richards. But she didn’t need to make the same choice. Surely she would make a fine wife to a lucky gentleman someday soon.
But Henry Neil had never been a lucky gentleman.
Chapter 15
Cecilia curtsied to the gentleman outside her front door after she and her footman descended from his carriage. He tipped his hat to her as he instructed his driver to carry them away down the road.
She had barely stepped an inch into the foyer and her mother and father already assailed her with questions. She hadn’t even had a chance to loosen her bonnet.
“Wasn’t he quite charming, Cecilia?” Mrs. Richards prodded, the sharpness in her voice conveying not so much a question as a statement that she intended to sell to Cecilia.
“Did you learn more about his family? He’s only a second son but he must have some sort of allowances.” Mr. Richards pried, his eyes sparkling.
“Yes, he was very charming. And yes, he is on good terms with his older brother who assures him that when he inherits his title all the younger siblings will be provided for.” Cecilia rattled off her answer almost as if she had rehearsed it.
Rather than embarking on these outings with these numerous gentlemen to learn about their interests, personalities, or perspectives, Cecilia had grown into the habit of filing away a different set of information. Every time she returned home or finished a dance with an eligible gentleman, her parents were sure to launch a dozen questions at her.
None of their questions had anything to do with how well she’d gotten along with the man, or what she thought of his ideals and hobbies. They only had to do with whether or not he was tolerable enough to potentially marry and what titles, estates, or other inheritances he could claim.
“Hmm.” Mrs. Richards tapped her foot rapidly. “I think we might still be able to find a better suitor. A second son is never ideal. But perhaps I can arrange another meeting with that young heir you danced with a few days ago.” She trailed off, lost in her plans, as she ambled through the foyer to the stairs, no doubt heading to her chambers where she could draft more letters on Cecilia’s behalf.
“Don’t listen to her,” Mr. Richards chuckled. “A second son would do just fine, as long as he will have some sort of allowance.” He also saw himself out of the foyer, leaving Cecilia alone with her thoughts.
She sighed as her father’s words rang in her head. He'd rather missed the point. Cecilia wasn’t concerned about who was a second or third or fourth son. At this point she simply wanted to find someone she could reasonably endure. Unfortunately her companion for today had proved rather vacuous, despite his beguiling smiles.
And of course there had been Lord Neil. The look in his eyes haunted her for the rest of her carriage ride about the park. She knew he had seen her, but his expression had been cold and empty.
With no other engagements scheduled for today, Cecilia was free to do as she wished. She made her way to the drawing room with the scene playing out over and over in her mind, her heart sinking further each time. She found Juliet sitting at the pianoforte, a sight she’d grown more accustomed to over the past week.
“Practicing again? How diligently unlike you,” she laughed as she approached her sister.
“Hush, you. I’m doing this for you, because you wrote such a lovely song that it would be a shame not to learn it and share it with others. And I need distraction.” Juliet scrunched her nose up, her fingers fumbling over the keys at the interruption.
“There’s nothing wrong with admitting you enjoy the process.” Cecilia sat next to Juliet on the bench and flipped back to the previous page of sheet music. “You’re still struggling with this passage here.”
“I didn’t think it would take me so long to learn it, but now the challenge has so irritated me that I feel the need to overcome it.” Sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, Juliet played through the section Cecilia pointed to. She furrowed her brows as the notes came out smoother, but still not perfectly.
“Well if you practiced regularly it wouldn’t be so difficult. You’re quite out of condition,” Cecilia chided.
“That’s strange, I didn’t realize our governess had come back after all these years. She looks more like you than I remembered.”
Cecilia only sighed and continued her instruction. “Play the passage again. I require utter perfection if you’re going to play my piece,” she demanded with faux arrogance.
But Juliet ignored Cecilia, turning the conversation away from her poor playing. “How was your trip today?”
Cecilia sighed and shrugged her shoulders in defeat. The deep melancholy that had shaken her when she’d seen the look on Lord Neil’s face crept over her again.
“I saw him today. At the park. And I know he saw me chatting away with that gentleman in the curricle.” She dropped her face into her hands, frustrated and wounded. Cecilia hated the fact that that look would forever be etched in her memory as the last time she saw the baron.
“Oh my. Did you speak with him?” Juliet took one of Cecilia’s hands away from her face and clasped it tightly in her lap.
“No. He was too far away. And besides, I wouldn’t know what to say to him if I had been able. I cannot tell if he despised me for being with another suitor or if he simply did not care.”
“Sissy...maybe you should go and rest for a while,” Juliet suggested softly. “As a matter of fact, you’ve had a delivery from Lord Neil himself. It’s waiting for you on your bed.”
Cecilia’s head snapped around to look into her sister’s face. Her heart hammered. “What?”
“I don’t know the contents but when I was out with Lord Overton this morning he asked that I deliver it to you on behalf of the baron. But you’d already left for the day by the time I returned home.”
Cecilia stood so fast she nearly tripped over the hem of her dress. Without another word, she left Juliet behind and flew to her room.
Once inside, Cecilia stood with her back against the closed door as she stared at the parcel on her bed. Her heart still pounded against her ribs and her breath came in sharp and shallow. By now she had given up hope of receiving even a simple “hello” from the baron, much less a package.
She placed a hand on her chest in an effort to soothe herself and crossed the room to her bed. The parcel, wrapped in plain brown paper tied with string, was entirely unassuming. Yet Cecilia could feel that it contained something highly important.
Lowering herself with weak knees to sit on her plush covers, Cecilia removed her gloves and set them aside. The package was large and heavy, the paper rough on her smooth palms. She tugged one end of the string and it fell away easily. With trembling fingers, she unfolded the stiff wrapping paper and pulled out a tall stack of pages and placed them carefully on
her bed, as if they might crumble into ash at any moment.
At the top of the stack sat a neatly folded sheet. When she picked it up, Cecilia read the fancy flourishing writing on the page underneath.
The Hero’s Companion.
Cecilia’s brow furrowed. It appeared to be a title, something befitting the popular adventure novel series. Perhaps, for some reason, Lord Neil had received an early copy from his connection at Frye Publishing and thought to pass it along to Cecilia.
But first, the letter. Cecilia held her breath as she unfolded the sheet.
Dear Miss Richards,
I would like to extend my sincerest apologies for withdrawing my attentions so suddenly. I hope you enjoy this gift—if you choose to read it—and I hope you find happiness wherever life may take you.
Warmest regards,
Neil
Conflicting emotions battered against each other inside Cecilia’s chest as she quickly read the short note. She felt as though she were being bruised from the inside out. She could not have guessed what would be in the letter, but she had hoped for something more personal than two simple sentences.
Perhaps he really hadn’t cared for her any more than a note of less than a paragraph warranted. And his dark expression at the park suggested that his feelings for her were not entirely favorable.
With a heavy disappointment settling in her stomach, Cecilia turned her attention to the rest of the package. She read the title again and flipped through a few pages. Elegant handwriting covered each sheet. It did indeed appear to be a draft of some book. Cecilia squirmed as she realized that she likely should not be in possession of an unpublished manuscript.
But if Lord Neil wished for her to read it, then read it she would—even if it broke her heart. Cecilia knew in her bones that this was his goodbye to her.
Our world is full of small people with small minds. They don’t know how little it costs to broaden one’s perspective. With your continued help, I hope to change that. I love you…. Will you stay by my side?
Behind The Baron's Mask: A Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 1) Page 19