When he was certain that she was gone, he went up to his room and collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in his pillows. It was only early afternoon yet all he wanted to do was sleep. He felt as though he had been awake for days. The noise in his head was so loud and insistent that it melded into a dull drone that tempted him into slumber.
I’ll figure this out tomorrow.
Chapter 33
Barbara’s siblings had left the day after the dinner. It was somewhat jarring, going from a full house to an empty one in so short a space of time. After what happened at the lake with Jeffrey, though, she was glad they were gone. She was glad that the house was quiet and empty and there was no one there to ask her questions.
No one but her father. The morning after the lake, she came down the stairs to have breakfast with him, as usual.
The parlor was bright and sunny and smelled faintly of coffee and sweet porridge. Barbara had not slept, and it was apparent by looking at her.
“Is everything all right?” her father asked immediately as she entered.
Barbara self consciously smoothed her hair. It was still in a loose braid that fell over her shoulder, as she had laid in bed rather than letting Rosie dress her hair.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just have a bit of a headache and I don’t think I will go to the orphanage or see anyone today. So why bother with my hair?”
“A headache?” the Duke peered over his spectacles at her, seeming to scrutinize her appearance further. Barbara had a feeling that, if he looked too long, he would find the truth of what had happened written somewhere on her figure.
Despite her great sadness and bewilderment at the wordless way Jeffrey had left her beside the lake, she still held out hope that perhaps, after taking some time to think things over, he would still wish to marry her. It was so long ago, after all.
She sat down at the table, tucking her legs underneath the long white tablecloth that billowed gently in the fresh morning breeze that wafted in from an open window.
“It’s still a bit cold for open windows at this time of day, don’t you think?” she asked, wondering if the tremulousness of her voice would give away her emotional agitation.
“I like it,” he answered. He had a blanket over his legs and didn’t seem to notice the chill. Barbara wondered idly how much of her life had been spent in telling her father that he should be cold and him insisting that he wasn’t.
“It will soon be summer,” she continued, blandly spreading strawberry jam over a bit of toast. It was a herculean effort to continue to talk about something as inconsequential as the weather, as the interminable cycle of the seasons, but there was no other course of action. She simply couldn’t tell him about Jeffrey. That would involve confessing to setting that fire so many years ago, confessing to running away from her chaperone as a young girl, confessing to lying all those years.
“Yes, it will. I have meant to ask you, but in all the chaos I kept forgetting. Do you and Captain Pemberton plan to marry before he sets off again? He is only in England while he recovers from his illness at sea, correct?”
“Oh,” she said, swallowing a bite. “Yes, that’s correct. Um. We haven’t yet decided on a date.”
“You’d best decide quickly. I imagine that his mother will be bearing the brunt of the arrangements, but I must be kept in the know as well.”
“Of course, Papa.”
How long could she keep this up? The humiliation of being engaged, of telling her entire family and of word being spread around town, only to have the whole thing called off, was too much to bear. She had dealt with rumors and negative opinions about her for her whole adult life, but it had never been about something so personal. It was one thing to be a spinster when it was assumed that the only reason she was yet unmarried was because of her pickiness. It was another matter altogether to be jilted.
But had she been jilted? She ate slowly, her eyes staring at a spot on the tablecloth, yet not really seeing anything. The way he had left her at the lake had felt so final, so definite. But he hadn’t exactly said that he couldn’t marry her.
Hovering as she was in this limbo between being engaged and not was excruciating.
“Barbara, are you sure you are all right? Shall I send for the physician about that headache?” Her father’s voice came to her consciousness as if from far away.
“Oh, no. I’m perfectly fine. I think I will just rest and I’m sure it will be cleared up by this afternoon,” she lied. Nothing would be cleared up by that afternoon. She would have to come up with a new excuse after the headache one was worn out.
“Perhaps you could send for Captain Pemberton. I’m sure he would leap at the opportunity to spoil you when you aren’t feeling well,” her father smiled gently.
Barbara shook her head. “No, I just want to lay quietly by myself. I wouldn’t want to trouble him over something as small as this.”
“All right, sweetheart. You know best what you need to do.”
Barbara spent the rest of the day in a chair that she had brought out under a willow tree at the back of the house. With blankets pooled around her, she had tipped her head up to the sky and let the wafting tendrils of the willow tree soothe her troubled mind and conscience. All day she half expected him to show up at her door any moment.
After the second day with no word from Jeffrey, she had to do something. Soon it would become obvious to everyone that he had not spoken to her. Gathering up her courage, she had Rosie dress her hair in the latest curled fashion and put on a blush pink dress. She said she was heading to the orphanage, but once she arrived there, she took a carriage to Jeffrey’s townhouse.
She couldn’t bear the silence anymore. She couldn’t bear not knowing. If he wouldn’t come to her, she would go to him.
As she climbed the steps to his front door, her heart pounded in her chest. It always had whenever she knew she would see him. Ever since the beginning he had that sense of control over her pulse. But this time, it was dread that caused her pulse to quicken.
She lifted a gloved hand and knocked on the door.
The butler appeared at the door looking down at her with a perfectly blank expression.
“It’s Lady Barbara. Is the Captain in?” she asked.
“He is not, My Lady,” he said simply.
“Oh,” her heart dropped. “How long will he be gone? Perhaps I can wait?”
“You may be waiting for some time. He left two days ago.”
“…Two days? Do you know where he’s gone?”
“I do not, My Lady.”
“I see. Th—thank you.”
“Good day, My Lady,” the butler said with a bow before closing the door.
She stood for a moment, staring at the closed door before she decided on her next move. Climbing back into the carriage, she had the coachman bring her to the Pemberton estate. Knocking on that grand door was an even more heart-thudding event. She wondered if Jeffrey had told his mother about her. Although the Dowager Countess had always been polite to her, there was something so severe about that lady, something that made her feel as though she was always skating on thin ice with her.
After the second knock, the door was answered by the butler, this one even more straight-backed and formal than the one at Jeffrey’s townhouse. She introduced herself and was led into a large parlor to wait for the Dowager Countess.
She stood in the middle of the room, clutching her reticule so tightly that her knuckles were white. After a time, the butler returned.
“Apologies, My Lady, but the Dowager Countess is not taking any visitors today.”
“But I just need to speak to her for a moment.”
“Deepest apologies, My Lady.” The butler was polite and as deferential to the daughter of a Duke as was required, and yet his manner was so stiff and final that he brooked no argument.
“I see.” Barbara felt sure that the reason for this slight was that Jeffrey had, indeed, told her about Barbara’s involvement in the fire that had destroyed hi
s life.
Her hope was ruined. There was no coming back from this. She returned to the orphanage and attempted to lose herself in the duties of running it. She wondered all the while if this meant that Jeffrey would be withdrawing his financial aid from the orphanage itself. The thought chilled her to the bone, and she felt so faint and miserable that she was sent home by Mister Bradley, who assumed that she was ill.
She trudged through her door feeling like the light had been extinguished in her soul. Her father, who was reading in the drawing room, noticed immediately.
“Now, you really must tell me what is wrong, darling,” he said, putting his book down definitively.
Barbara nodded silently, powerless to hold back silent tears as she sat down next to him.
“Is it that Captain of yours?” her father asked gently, laying his arm over Barbara’s shoulder.
Barbara sniffed. She would have to tell him everything. Just as she couldn’t keep the truth from Jeffrey, she couldn’t keep it from her father either. She needed him to understand, to comfort her.
She told him everything. Her story punctuated by shaky breaths, she recounted the fateful day when she had stolen away from her chaperone to explore the abandoned house at the end of the street that she had always loved. She told of the fire, of the boy, of Jeffrey by the lake.
“I went to his mother’s house, but she wouldn’t even see me. I don’t know where he’s gone or if he will come back. It’s all a shamble, Papa. How will I face the world now? What if he withdraws his money from the orphanage? The children won’t have what they need, and it will all be my fault. Everything is my fault.”
“He will come back, love,” her father said. All the time Barbara had been afraid of getting in trouble for causing the fire. She realized then how silly it had been to keep it from her father.
“You don’t know that,” Barbara whispered fearfully. “You didn’t’ see his face when I told him. He can’t love me now, after finding out what I did.”
“I do know it, Barbara. The Captain loves you. I could see it in his eyes the moment he came here. He needs time, that’s all. You were just a child when it happened, he knows that. Even before he knew it was you, you heard him defend the girl at dinner.”
Barbara sobbed, sinking against her father’s frail shoulder. He hugged her, shushing her gently.
“He will be back, Barbara. Trust me. I know he will be back for you soon.”
Barbara tried to let the assurances sink in, but her hope was gone. There was no use in trying to reignite it. Her humiliation and shame combated with her fears for the livelihood of the orphanage. She thought of all those children who depended on her, whom she had let down.
With her grief unloaded to her father, Barbara was sent to bed with assurances that she just needed to rest and that everything would turn out all right.
She doubted it. But she didn’t have the strength to resist and she climbed the stairs to her room and collapsed onto her bed.
What will I do now?
Chapter 34
A week later, Barbara was back at the orphanage. She had heard no word from Jeffrey. As far as she knew he had gotten back onto a ship and sailed off toward the horizon, never to look back. Her father kept up his assurances that the Captain would return and marry her, but Barbara did not believe him.
All she knew was that if he did plan on revoking his donation to the orphanage, Jeffrey had not done so yet. It was easier to worry about the orphans than to think about her own failed engagement, so she threw herself into her work. It had always been her preferred method of avoiding the issues of her life, her spinsterhood, her loneliness. At the orphanage, she was useful. She was busy. Far too busy to cry over a gentleman.
She went about spending the money that Jeffrey had given to the foundation. She replaced all of the threadbare bedding with fresh, clean blankets and pillows and the crispest white sheets she’d ever seen. She bought a new carriage, this one with a brighter interior that would not be so frightening for new orphans. One rainy day, the roof had sprung a leak over the schoolroom, and she was in negotiations to have it repaired.
Part of her felt guilty, as if she was quickly spending the money before he had a chance to snatch it back. But at the same time, she didn’t truly believe that he would punish the orphans for what she had done. After all, he had donated the money to the foundation, not to her personally.
She did her best to casually avoid Frederic Hanson, the young man whom Jeffrey had taken under his wing to become a member of the Royal Navy. She didn’t have the heart to tell young Fred that that might not come to pass after all.
This rankled her. It was one thing to be angry at her and to take off to God knows where for God knows how long, but to disappoint the hopes of such a young man, who was so full of optimism after such a hard childhood. It was cruel.
Even if Jeffrey never came back for her. She held on to hope that he could come back for Fred, at least.
She was standing in the drawing room with her hands on her hips, squinting up at the growing water stain on the roof that morning. A roofer who had been recommended by one of the women who worked at the orphanage was standing next to her. He dressed like a dock worker and his face was smeared with a bit of dirt across his cheek that Barbara was debating whether or not to tell him about. His shabbiness encouraged her, if anything. He looked like a hard worker, and despite his nigh incomprehensible cockney accent, Barbara was confident in his knowledge about roofs.
“Yes, My Lady, these old church buildings often spring leaks like this. If it’s happenin’ ‘ere it’ll be happenin’ elsewhere soon enough. I can patch it up for yeh for the time bein’. But yeh’ll have to be callin’ me back again before the year is out, I’d wager.”
“Oh dear, you really think so?”
“I wouldn’ swindle an orphanage, My Lady. I’m tellin’ ye true that this roof is on its last legs. I seen it before many a time.”
“I see. How inconvenient. Well, what will it cost for a new roof, then? And how long will it take?” she asked. Her neck ached from staring up at the ceiling and she rubbed the back of it as she asked him.
“Well Miss, that’ll be—”
“Lady Barbara?” One of the women appeared in the doorway, looking apologetic.
“Yes, what is it?” Barbara asked, a bit annoyed at being interrupted. She knew it would not be cheap to have the roof replaced and she was anxious about spending so much all at once.
“A visitor for you. Captain Pemberton.”
Barbara’s heart dropped into her stomach and she stopped breathing for a moment. The air went cold.
“Captain Pemberton?” she asked, wondering if perhaps she had misheard. Perhaps her mind had simply filled in the name that she wanted to hear.
The woman nodded. “He’s waiting in the foyer. I didn’t know where to—” She looked around. Visitors were normally brought to this drawing room.
“Well Sir, it looks as though I will have to cut our meeting short today. Could you perhaps return tomorrow and we can discuss the financials and timeline then?” Barbara said to the roofer. She knew she must look panicked, given the way her hands trembled all of a sudden and she seemed to have trouble controlling the pitch of her voice.
“Of course, m’Lady. Of course. I’ll come back, same time tomorrow?”
Barbara smiled. “Thank you very much.”
The man left and Barbara turned quickly to the window. She gripped the top of a chair and tried to steady her breathing.
This is it. He is going to come in here and tell me either that it’s over or that he will still marry me. One way or another, it will all be decided now.
She listened to the sound of booted footsteps approaching, then the sound of the door being gently closed. Alone in a room with him. It seemed that anytime something important happened to her, she was alone in a room with him. She didn’t turn around to look at him yet.
I can’t. I can’t see him.
Her heart clenched i
n her chest. She loved him. She loved him so much that it pained her to see him and not know if he loved her back.
“Barbara.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
That voice. I must always remember that voice. No matter what.
“Barbara, look at me.” He was closer then. She was compelled to do as he said, turning around slowly, reluctantly.
“You came back,” she said softly. “I wondered where you were. I went to your mother’s house.”
“Yes, I know,” he said.
“Were you there when I came?” she asked. She had often wondered if, when she went looking for him at his mother’s house, he had been there, just in another room, so close and yet so far away.
A Seductive Lady For The Scarred Earl (Steamy Regency Romance) Page 23