Daphne stood watch over him this time, along with two male servants whose sole purpose, he supposed, would be to restrain him should he get violent and threatened her. In other circumstances, he might have laughed, but now he just wanted them gone.
She glanced at the door, the first to figure out what provoked his sudden response. “Why hello. Welcome to my home.”
Barbara ducked her head, clearly embarrassed with the attention. From where he lay, he could see the blush staining her neck.
“Leave off, Daphne. You can meet her later. For now, just go and take your protection with you.” His petulant tone drew the gaze of both women, not how he wanted to appear before Barbara, though reclining on a bed offered little better in terms of his presence.
Daphne glanced from one to the other of them. “I can’t just leave you two here alone.”
A laugh came from the dregs of his humor. “This is not London where everything must be proper, and even if it were, she’s no lady to expect such things.”
Daphne’s lowered brows bothered him less than the gasp from Barbara. He’d meant no insult, though he could see both of them had taken it that way.
He had no intention of apologizing. Barbara would understand his meaning once they were alone, and Daphne needed to go.
Aubrey waved at the bed. “I’m in no condition to compromise anyone. You know all too well I can barely lift my head without feeling like it split open once again.”
This time Barbara’s gasp held a very different meaning as she crossed the space between them to kneel at his side, her face pale.
He fumbled for her nearest hand. “I’m not so poorly I won’t recover. Don’t be afraid for me.”
Daphne coughed loud enough to serve the purpose of reminding them they still had an audience despite his request.
“I was thinking less of the proprieties so much as that you need to be monitored. The doctor is unhappy with both your progress and your episode earlier,” she said, with a nod to the last of the two servants exiting the room.
Barbara’s hand tensed in his grip at the reminder of his injury.
Aubrey sent Daphne a scowl both for emphasizing his weakness and the implication that he might harm Barbara. “I am neither so injured as to need a nursemaid nor so dangerous as to require a guard. I’m sure Barbara is capable enough to notice should I lapse into unconsciousness again. Anything less and there will be time enough to see to it. So everyone else can very well quit the room.”
“Mistress?”
He was fully aware of the concerned glances Daphne shared with her staff at his irritated tone. Aubrey dragged in a breath, struggling for calm before they started to question his judgment again.
At that very moment, the doctor appeared at the door as though determined to cause Aubrey misery.
He let out a groan that had little to do with pain, or at least not the physical type.
When the man looked to enter, Aubrey held up his free hand to stop him. “You can stay right outside with the rest. Shut the door after you, Daphne. If Barbara has any concern, she can give a cry and you’ll be able to rush in long before anything could happen.” He lowered his voice with effort as he added, “Now will you please just let us be?”
He sent Barbara a beseeching look, knowing Daphne would appeal to her next.
“I’ll watch over him,” she said, her voice low.
The quiet words should not have had the ability to command him, but they sent happiness rushing through Aubrey. He might not need a nursemaid, but he’d found his soul mate, and she seemed as tied as he was. Why else would she have agreed to come see him despite his overeager advance before?
He needed to make his intentions clear so no doubt could remain between them. Whether she wanted him to stay in the country or would be willing to chance life in London, Aubrey planned to spend the rest of his life at her side.
DAPHNE PAUSED AT THE DOORWAY, and Barbara wanted to call back her words, to beg the woman to stay. She’d come to free Aubrey, to free both of them, but his response terrified her. Not the kind of terror that meant she wanted him restrained, but more a fear for his health.
As though his friend could read her mind, Daphne met her gaze with a firm look. “Don’t do anything to agitate him. He doesn’t want you to see him as weak, what man would, but his injury was nothing to take lightly.”
“I won’t.” Barbara’s promise came out in a whisper as weak as Daphne said Aubrey was, all plans dissolving around Barbara and leaving her trapped in falsehood just as Charlotte had warned.
The door closed behind Daphne with a thud.
Barbara wished she could be anywhere but where she was now, wished she’d stood stronger against the persuasion and refused to come see him. Anything she said now could only harm.
He was sure to demand the reason she ran. She’d have to lie once again. Daphne said he mustn’t be upset, no idle warning when his condition required a doctor and just leaving him without care for a moment made them all so worried.
“Finally, we can speak.”
Barbara had been so caught up in her own thoughts, his statement startled her. She turned to face him then ducked her head. “We have nothing to say that cannot wait.” As much as she wished she could add that it could be said just as well in front of others, she couldn’t make that claim. Her humiliation would be complete enough with only him to hear her confession.
Aubrey put a hand to his head and winced as though she’d hurt him with the force of her words.
In a softer tone, she added, “Your friend said as how you should not be agitated. Clearly my presence has that effect.” She pushed to her feet and moved toward the door only to freeze when he grabbed her arm.
His hold fell away, whether because of her response or his own weakness, she couldn’t tell.
“Nothing you do or say would upset me greater than not having you here.”
More than his touch, the words spoken with conviction if not strength stabbed at her core. She froze, unable to take another step, but unwilling to turn back either.
“Please.”
The groan that followed it rather than his plea had her spinning around to find him in a half-seated position, his brow furrowed in obvious pain.
She dropped to her knees beside him and gently urged him down to the pillow with a hand on his shoulder.
His condition must be even worse than her fears if he could not raise his head without suffering. Daphne had been right in her concern, but anything Barbara did only seemed to agitate him more.
As though to contradict her thoughts, he settled against the pillow and his eyes fell shut, revealing the length of his dark lashes. His breath came out on a sigh and the lines cut into his forehead eased as his fingers sought hers and wrapped tight.
Her presence did seem to offer some comfort after all.
Aubrey turned his head with barely a wince so he could look at her, and a smile graced his lips. “I thought I’d scared you into harm’s way.”
Despite herself, Barbara raised her free hand to brush the sweat-slicked hair from his face. “It’s you who was harmed by my actions. I came through with nary a scratch.”
His head shifted on the pillow as though he tried to shake her words away. “My injuries came from my own foolishness. I should have known you would have the woodcraft to fare well despite your upset.”
She wanted to protest the assumption, but how could she with the truth hidden between them.
Aubrey must have seen the urge in her expression because he tightened his grip on her hand and pulled it closer. “This is not how I imagined our conversation, nor would I speak in such a state, but I cannot chance losing you again.”
Barbara rose, suddenly nervous at his words, but his hold kept her close.
“I know not who stands for you as father, and once you tell me, I’ll ask him proper, but I must know now. Will you do me the honor of accepting my hand, of becoming my lady wife?”
Forgetting everything but her need to e
scape, she tugged hard on her hand, but he wouldn’t let go even though her movements clearly pained him. Barbara stopped only for fear of doing him greater injury.
She stood silent and tense, wishing she’d held firm in her intention to stay away.
“Please. Hear me out. I know the differences in our stations will cause difficulties. I know it sounds as unbalanced as the doctor thinks me with my injury. But this is not a sudden decision. My heart knew the truth long before my head would allow for it. In these short weeks, I’ve come to know you better than any woman I’ve ever known before.”
“No!” The protest came from her lips before she could stop it, whether a denial of his claim or his request even she didn’t know.
He gave a weak chuckle. “Yes. You’re intelligent, quick, and curious. I know your nature and your strength. It won’t be easy, but I will stand at your side the whole way. If you ask it of me, we can live here in the country, but if you’re willing, in time, London will come to accept and love you as much as I do.”
Tears gathered in her eyes at the words she had been longing to hear, only they meant nothing. “You claim to know me, but you do not,” she said, tugging hard enough to free herself though she caused the lines to pinch his face once again. “You don’t even know what the differences between us are, much less how to overcome them.”
He reached for her, but she stepped back and out of the way, gathering her courage as she’d never had to before. The difference between them lay in his honesty and her falsehood. She could not let this continue any longer.
“Whatever it is,” he said, his tone earnest, “we can work through it together. In everything that matters, we are a perfect match. Don’t let some groundless concern stand between us. You have no idea how rare such a connection is.”
His words, while meant to reassure, only stabbed Barbara to the quick. His perfect match had been built not on truth but on layer after layer of lies.
She stared down at him, the confession on the tip of her tongue, but the dreaded words would not come from between her lips. She could not do the deed that would rip both his heart and her own. Now more than ever, Daphne’s warning rang in her ears, and she could not chance turning his recovery into a deadly spiral.
Emotions threatened to overwhelm Barbara, fear uppermost, and she could not stand here a moment longer.
Tears broke free to stream down her face as she twisted away from the bed, slammed the door open, and shoved through those waiting outside. She did not intend to stop running until she reached the farmyard and then her room, uncaring of all who saw her humiliation. She had destroyed her one chance at happiness, and took the man of her affection down with her.
AUBREY HEARD RAISED VOICES FROM outside the door but he paid them little attention as he focused on moving first one limb then another. His heart pounded out a rhythm demanding speed but he’d seen what rushing won him, and he needed to stand. He needed to catch her, to stop her, to get her to understand that nothing mattered more than the two of them together.
“Oh no you don’t.”
He’d been concentrating so carefully on achieving a seated position he’d failed to notice Daphne and the others flooding into the room until she spoke.
“Restrain him,” demanded the doctor.
“Wait,” he cried as their effort forced him down with a moan. Lights danced behind his eyes and pain stabbed him until his head spun, but none of that mattered with the love of his life getting further and further away.
Despite himself, Aubrey began to struggle. “Daphne, you have to listen to me. You have to stop her.”
Liquid poured into his open mouth, choking him with the bitter burn of laudanum.
Worse even than the firm hands pressing him down, this would take away his ability to think. He locked gazes with Daphne, begging her to help him.
She put a hand on his arm and shook her head. “Aubrey, she’s already gone. Whatever you did, she fled from here as though the hounds of hell were at her feet.”
“I only asked her to marry me.”
He sank into oblivion before knowing whether Daphne had heard his words or if they’d come out too slurred to be understood.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
By the time Barbara reached the farmhouse, her run had transformed into an exhausted stumble marked only by pauses to brush the tears from her cheeks.
“He didn’t send you home on the wagon?” Georgiana called as the cousins gathered to greet her having caught sight of her approach.
“Oh hush,” Charlotte said a moment later as her state must have become clear. “Barbara, are you all right?”
She didn’t stop to answer as she pushed past them without a word on her way to her room. She’d only had the right to claim it for a few short weeks, but it felt like a lifetime, one she didn’t deserve.
They gathered in the doorway, a silent witness to her efforts to pack up all her things.
Sarah came to help her without questioning, and they made short work of the task, easier than it should have been with most of her belongings still in the trunks because Charlotte declared them inappropriate for farm life.
“Talk to us,” Marian demanded, blocking Barbara’s path when she sought to find her uncle. “What happened?”
“I need to talk to your father. He’d been right from the start. I should never have spoken with Aubrey and should never have gone to the manor. I can stay here no longer.”
Jane pressed a hand to her lips and tears glistened in Georgiana’s eyes, but Charlotte tugged Marian and the others aside so Barbara could pass.
“He’s in his office.”
Barely aware of the procession behind her, Barbara made her way through the house to rap on the doorframe and announce her presence.
“Back so soon?” Uncle Ferrier said without even looking up, but when he did, he captured her in one of his long stares, taking in her dirt- and tear-stained state without comment.
A few weeks before, his silent regard would have unnerved her. Now, Barbara stood still under his assessment and waited for him to pass judgment on her as she had on herself.
This trip had succeeded admirably. It taught her humility and the cost of arrogance, but having learned the lesson, she needed to return home.
“Do I need to call on the manor?” he said at last, his tone such that she knew he’d defend her honor when she had none worth defending.
“No, Uncle. Please don’t. The fault was mine. I only need to return home, and quickly.”
His gaze narrowed. “The gent didn’t die after all, did he?”
Barbara gave a strangled laugh. “No, he lives.”
He gave a short nod and pushed to his feet. “I can’t promise you a fancy carriage like you arrived in, but the farm wagon can get you to London if in less comfort.” He paused at her side to examine her features. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. I am sure. More sure than ever before.”
Whether he’d asked only out of courtesy or her adamant answer decided him, her uncle delayed no further. He strode past her, calling for Thomas to bring the wagon around and pulling Charlotte aside for a quick consultation.
Barbara went to stand in the farmyard, remembering all the times she’d hauled milk drawn by her own hands, or when she’d searched the fields yonder for elusive delicacies. Her thoughts brought up pictures of Aubrey laughing, teasing her, and looking at her with such longing, but she crushed them down deep where they wouldn’t plague her with her falsehoods.
Not one of those images meant a thing, their foundation a bed of lies rather than truth.
He said he knew her, but he knew only the mask she’d put on for his benefit, one she dearly wished she could call her own.
Charlotte appeared at her side to stand silent and watch with her for a moment before she said, “Can you not tell me why?”
Barbara gave a despairing sigh. “You know most of it already. You know how he saw me and that I said nothing to change his impression.”
/>
Her cousin let the silence grow between them until Barbara could suffer it no longer. She poured out a full confession, from her accidental eavesdropping to how she used that event to excuse her behavior ever since, even a plot for revenge he’d little earned. “If I’d only listened to your warning…But I did not, and now it’s best I leave.”
Though dreading a harsh scold, Barbara would have preferred it to her cousin’s simple nod.
“I thought as much,” was all Charlotte said before turning back into the house and leaving Barbara to her vigil.
The farmhands came from the house with trunk after trunk of worthless belongings, frivolous dresses, scarves, and slippers from her former life. Now she had calluses on her hands and on her heart where she knew more of real life than a dozen seasons would have given her.
The wagon drove up in a cloud of dust that settled on the worn, dirt-stained dress she still wore, having been unwilling to take the time to change. She’d have to wash and sew it before sending the dress back to Charlotte.
That thought drew forth a weak chuckle. Once she reached London, she would not be washing her own clothes, nor would she likely see to its repair. Sarah would once again take on the role of her maid more than her friend, and her life would revolve around events so much less important than the need to ease a cow’s udder in the morning.
“I won’t. You can’t make me. Father, don’t do this.”
The cry from Georgiana startled Barbara out of her self-absorption to see her cousin struggling in her uncle’s grasp, a solemn Charlotte following after with a small bundle.
“Uncle, I can fare without additional company,” she protested, thinking Georgiana an odd choice in chaperone especially with Sarah about.
“She’s going for her good, not yours,” he said, lifting his daughter bodily onto the cloth sacks padding the wagon’s interior. “She’s grown too wild out here. My sister will have the taming of her where I have failed.”
Georgiana made as if to climb down, but he stopped her with a stare. She sank to the wagon floor, a sullen look on her normally animated features.
A Country Masquerade Page 21