They arrived in the early hours of the morning, before dawn.
“My darling,” Lilia said as Marianne and Becky stepped into the foyer. She kissed Marianne on both cheeks and took her by the hands. “It is so good to see you.”
Marianne squeezed her hands in gratitude. “I cannot thank you enough for having us here, Lilia.”
“I would not have you thank me at all. It is a pleasure to have you. Though I am so sorry for your current predicament. What has happened?”
“It is late,” Marianne said, with a small smile. “I will reveal all in the morning.”
Lilia smiled at her. She was a tall and slender girl with blonde curls that fell to the small of her back when she let them loose. Her eyes were bright blue and her cheeks were high and plump. “Very well, my darling. Let me show you to your room.”
“Before we retire, there is one thing that I must ask you. You may think it mad or unusual, but I beg you to do me this favor.”
“Of course, my dear,” Lilia said. “What is it?”
“You mustn’t tell anyone we are here.”
Lilia blinked in surprise. “I mustn’t tell anyone?”
“No one,” Marianne confirmed. “Not even my parents.”
Her brows rose. “Your parents do not know you’ve come?”
“They do not. And it needs to remain that way.”
“But-”
“Please my friend. Trust me and all will be clear in the morning.”
Lilia hesitated for a moment, before nodding.
That night, for the first night in weeks, Marianne slept soundly. She didn’t realize how afraid she’d been of Eliza coming into her room while she was sleeping until that fear was gone.
And she was so tired. Too tired to even dream. The moment her cheek hit the pillow, nothingness swallowed her up. And she simply rested.
***
It had been two weeks since he’d seen or heard anything of Lady Marianne. He spent the first week in London, because he couldn’t stand to be around Eliza’s smugness. And because he didn’t want to risk bumping into Marianne.
At first, Alexander attempted to wipe his hands of what had happened. He’d tried to resist Marianne. But even when she’d given him no indication that she wanted him, he hadn’t been able to keep himself away from her.
Now, he’d burnt the bridge between them. He’d insulted her. Accused her. And chosen Eliza. That was a choice he couldn’t and wouldn’t go back on.
But as time passed, his shame grew steadily. He’d expected to be able to let this go, at last. He’d eradicated the temptation as much as he could, after all. And yet she was still lurking in his mind.
The picture of her stung countenance seemed to be imprinted onto the inside of his eyelids. He saw it every time he blinked. Every time he closed his eyes to sleep.
Though he was sure that he’d effectively sabotaged what little affection Marianne might have had for him, she was still going to be his sister by law. And he didn’t want there to be animosity or hurt between them. He didn’t want seeing him to be unbearable for her.
So he resolved that he would see her, in time. For one last time, they would have a conversation alone. And he would apologize for what he’d said to her.
But when he returned from London and went to the Purcell house a week later, the house was empty. Save for Eliza. He wondered if Marianne might be upstairs, but couldn’t ask Eliza for fear of her lashing out again.
And he couldn’t sneak off to see for himself either, because Eliza clung to his side.
He excused himself after an hour and went home. The house had been terribly silent. He resolved that he would send a letter, but then recalled that Marianne had not received any of his other letters.
If he hoped to give it to her, he’d have to deliver it by hand. That was next to impossible with Eliza around. By the end of the second week, having visited the Purcell household twice more with no success, he realized what he had to do.
Alexander had not spoken to Julius since their argument and it felt entirely self-absorbed to reach out to him for help now. But it was more than a practical need. The truth was that he’d missed his friend. And that he wasn’t angry anymore.
In fact, the more he thought on their argument, the more he understood Julius’ position. The woman he loved had turned him down for the very reason that Alexander had chosen Eliza over Marianne. Not for happiness’ sake. For propriety.
When he went to Julius’ house, he found him in the gardens. He was sitting on the grass with his three hounds around him.
The hounds had been bred as hunting hounds, but Julius had developed a fondness for them. They were spoilt rotten and chubby things now, lying sprawled around him in the sunlight.
“You’ve been gone a while,” Julius remarked, without looking up at him. He lay back in the grass and stared at the sky.
Alexander lowered himself down beside his friend, so that he could lie next to him. The sky was so very blue overhead. “I am sorry I did not come sooner,” Alexander murmured. A hound tried to lick him, and Alexander batted him away gently with a smile.
“Be careful,” Julius said. “Rodrick has terrible breath.”
“Rodrick? Really?”
“Does he not look like a Rodrick?”
Alexander looked at the hound. It was straining against Alexander’s hand in an attempt to lick him. His eyes were saggy, revealing the pink insides of his lids. And his jowls hung low, dripping with saliva.
“I suppose he does look like a Rodrick,” Alexander remarked.
Julius smiled and finally looked at Alexander.
They smiled at each other for a moment, before Alexander shook his head and said, “I am so sorry, my friend. For what I said.”
Julius shrugged his shoulder and shook his head. “All is forgiven, Alexander. I am sorry too.”
“How have you been feeling?”
Again, Julius shrugged. He looked back up at the sky and Alexander heard him exhale softly.
“So,” Julius said. “What is this favor you have come to ask of me?”
Alexander blinked at him. “I did not mention a favor.”
“You did not need to,” Julius replied. “But I can see that you need something.”
“I would have come anyway,” Alexander murmured, guiltily.
Julius nodded. “I know you would have, Alexander. But there is something, isn’t there? You look terribly anxious.”
He felt anxious. He sat up and linked his arms around his knees.
“I need you to visit the Purcells and deliver a letter for me,” Alexander said. He pulled the letter from his pocket as he spoke. Julius looked at him. Whatever he had been expecting, this clearly wasn’t it.
“I can’t just turn up,” Julius protested. “It’s a matter of custom.”
“Please, Julius. When have you ever cared for custom?”
Alexander knew that it wasn’t about custom. It was about Becky.
“I am not sure I can,” Julius admitted, quietly.
At the sound of the solemnity in Julius’ voice, Alexander let the matter drop. He knew that if he asked again, Julius would concede. Because he was a good man.
But as Alexander looked at him, pale-faced and sunken, he knew that he didn’t want to put his friend through that.
Alexander knew what it was like to face the person you loved, but couldn’t have for your own.
“Of course,” Alexander murmured, with a nod. “I am sorry for asking, my friend.” He put the letter down beside him on the grass, because it felt heavy in his hand. It hurt to hold it.
They did not speak of it again, but Alexander didn’t leave. He stayed with Julius for the rest of the afternoon. Neither of them were as chatty as they’d usually be, but that didn’t matter. It was comforting to be around someone who understood what he was going through.
They talked about Oxford mostly and it was a pleasant reprieve from his inner turmoil. But at the end of the day, Julius looked over at him an
d said, “You are still struggling to let her go.”
They were still sitting outside, watching the sunset.
“It’s not that,” Alexander said, softly. “It’s that I said some things to her that I regret.”
“Was that not your intention?”
He didn’t answer for a moment. He realized, at that moment, just how well his friend knew him. “Yes,” he admitted. He’d wanted to burn that bridge, once and for all. And he’d done that, only to regret it horribly.
He felt like a damned fool. Just as Marianne and Julius had recognized.
Alexander stood and exhaled a slow breath. “I know I have been foolish. The least I can do is apologize to her.”
Julius sat up. “Are you leaving?”
“I have some business to attend to tonight,” Alexander answered.
Julius nodded. “I will see you soon?”
“Soon,” Alexander promised, with a small smile.
Chapter 27
Lord Alexander Anthony Redmond, Marquess of Riversdale
Three days later, Julius came to the Riversdale estate. His expression was bleak, which made Alexander’s heart sink.
“Are you alright?” Alexander asked.
“I went to the Purcells, with the letter,” Julius said.
“But I didn’t give you the letter.”
“You left it behind that day you came.”
He felt his heart freeze in his chest. “Then you saw her? You gave her the letter? Is she well?”
Julius started to shake his head. “I did not see her, Alexander.”
“What do you mean you didn’t see her?”
“She’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes, gone. And for some time now. She left in the middle of the night, as far as anyone can tell.”
“Alone?” Panic was rising in him, making it difficult to breathe. “But where could she have gone?”
“Not alone,” Julius replied, sounding grim. “With Miss Cole.”
With Miss Cole. That explained Julius’ bleak countenance. “Then we must look for them,” Alexander said.
Julius nodded. “My thought exactly, but it is not so simple as that. I have already asked her family where she might have gone and none of them know.”
“It can’t take long to find her.”
“It has already been two weeks Alexander.”
“Two weeks? Two weeks and I heard nothing of it? How?” Panic was making his chest hurt.
“Because Eliza did not want you to hear of it, I imagine.”
“Then how did you learn of it?”
“I cornered the Baron and insisted on seeing Lady Marianne.”
“How can none of them know where she is?” He blurted.
“She’s close to her father, is she not?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“He would not speak to me much, but he may well speak to you.”
“Why would he not speak to you?”
Julius’ expression was furrowed with sympathy. “He was very upset. He would not leave his office, despite my insistence.”
Alexander was nodding quickly. He ordered for his horse to be brought around. “We’ll leave immediately.”
Julius gave a single, short nod. Though he pitied his friend horribly, he was glad that he was not alone in this. He would have Julius by his side, as fervently seeking Lady Marianne as Alexander was. If only to find Becky and assure himself that she was okay.
“Do you have any inkling where they might have gone?” Julius called over the sound of hooves as they ride.
“I have heard Marianne mention her friend Lilia before. She might have gone there.”
“I heard the Baron mention Lady Lilia. They have already contacted her, but Lady Marianne is not with her.”
God damn it.
They reached the estate and dismounted. They each practically ran inside and burst through the doors.
“My Lord!” The Baroness cried.
“Oh, my love, I am so glad you are here,” Eliza said and threw her arms around Alexander’s neck. He pried her off him and pushed through the women so that he could reach the Baron’s study.
“I need to speak to your father,” he said, in a rushed and curt voice.
“But why?” Eliza balked.
“About your sister. I hear that she is missing.”
“Why should you care?” Eliza snapped, in a suddenly wild-sounding voice.
The Baroness blocked the door to the study with her own body. “My Lord, I am afraid he is not in.”
“Not in?”
“Yes, he is not in.”
“Yes, not in,” Eliza confirmed.
For a moment, Alexander scrutinized the Baroness’ expression. She looked wide eyed and fidgety. Showing all the signs of a liar. “Then you won’t mind me going into his study.”
The Baroness pushed her back harder against the door as Alexander reached around her for the handle. She was spluttering out some excuse when, at that very moment, the study door opened.
And there stood the Baron.
“My Lord,” he said. “I thought I heard you,” he remarked.
The Baron looked down at his wife, who was blushing hard in her shame. He shook his head at her. “Won’t you come in, gentlemen?” He said, to both Alexander and Julius.
Without another word, they joined him.
On the other side of the door, the Baron deflated. He sank into his chair and gestured for Julius and Alexander to be seated too. But they were too restless to sit, so they remained standing.
The Baron put his head on his hand, as if his neck wasn’t strong enough to hold it up anymore. “I don’t know where she is, gentlemen,” the Baron began. “Perhaps I could find her, if I thought to look, but I do not want to find her.”
Alexander balked at this. He took a step towards the Baron so he was standing in front of him. The Baron looked up at him with tired eyes. “Then you are no better than her sister? You scorn her?”
“I do not scorn her,” he said, with a sad smile. “She left because she could not survive here under these conditions. And I am glad that she did, my Lord. You cannot imagine the strain this household has been under.”
“And all because of what Lady Marianne said to me?”
The Baron shook his head, seemingly at himself. “I cannot understand why she did what she did. It was not like her,” he murmured. “But there was more. Things you don’t know of.”
“More?” The pucker in Alexander’s brow deepened.
The Baron regarded Alexander with tired eyes. “We know that you came to see her that night. Eliza caught her sneaking back into the house, wearing your jacket.”
It felt like every muscle in his body had frozen. This could ruin him. Truly ruin him. His lips parted to defend himself, and to defend Marianne, but the Baron spoke again.
“She told us the truth.”
He swallowed. “The truth?”
“You needn’t protect her any longer, my Lord,” the Baron said, sadly. “She told us how she feels about you. How she has pursued you. She also confessed that you took no interest, so you are spared of any culpability.”
He couldn’t muster words anymore. He felt like a dead fish, with his jaw hanging slack. “I…”
It dawned on him then. Marianne had been discovered and she’d lied for him. She’d lied to protect him, despite him being the one to insist on her meeting him in the dead of night. And despite him accusing her of having ulterior motives.
She’d proven herself true, moments after he’d hurt her.
“My Lord,” Alexander said. His voice caught in his throat. “There is more to this story than you might think.”
The Baron’s brow puckered and he closed his eyes. “I have thought that for quite some time,” he admitted. “I know my daughter, my Lord. She did not fall far from my tree.”
For a few long moments, Alexander faced a dilemma. He stared at Marianne’s father. A good man, he felt sure of it. But for whatever reas
on, Marianne had not wanted him to know the truth.
But their situation had turned dire now and the truth was the only thing they could rely on anymore. All this time he’d steered clear of the truth. Ever since Bath, when he’d refused to reveal his identity.
A Marquess' Forbidden Desire (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 21