“No, I don’t suppose there is.”
He sighed, as if she’d supplied the wrong answer. What did the blasted man want? What did he expect from her? He’d been very clear. He was looking for an Amazon warrior and she was a timid mouse.
“Goodbye,” he said again.
“Goodbye.”
She started up the stairs so he wouldn’t see the tears dripping down her cheeks. She refused to give him further cause to bark and chastise.
“Would you like me to have a carriage prepared?” he called. “I could drive you home.”
“There’s no need. I can find my own way.”
She hurried out and ran to the lane. She was so distraught that she’d lost the impulse for stealth. She didn’t care if she was observed, didn’t care if she had to explain where she’d been.
Her heart broken, her humiliation vast, she kept going as fast as she was able. She didn’t stop until she was locked in her empty bedroom, in Oscar’s quiet house. Her lonely future stretched before her like the road to Hades.
“Have you seen your sister?”
The twins were sitting on the stairs, looking as glum as Nicholas felt.
“I think she’s up in her bedchamber,” Nan said.
Nicholas had just been there, but hadn’t stumbled on her. He’d been searching for her since the previous day, since she’d witnessed Veronica kissing him. He hadn’t located her, and no one else had either. Veronica had continued on to her house party, but Emeline remained in hiding.
She hadn’t come down for tea or supper. She hadn’t slept in her bed. Breakfast was over, but she hadn’t eaten.
In a few minutes, he and his brother were heading for London, but he couldn’t go until he’d spoken to her.
Over the weeks that he’d dallied with Emeline, it had been easy to pretend Veronica and his betrothal weren’t real. But in a fleet moment, her arrival had shattered the fantasy.
He’d tried to warn Emeline that she shouldn’t grow fond of him, but he hadn’t tried very hard. He’d relished her affection, and he’d encouraged her when he shouldn’t have.
At being confronted with how he’d deceived her, he was mortified by his contemptible conduct. He had to fix what he’d done, but he wasn’t sure how.
He wasn’t an erudite man. What words could possibly smooth over his horrid betrayal? And it was a betrayal; he couldn’t persuade himself that it wasn’t.
“Would you girls check her room for me?” he asked. “I stopped by a bit ago, but she wasn’t there. Maybe she’s returned by now.”
They stared at him, but didn’t move.
“Are you two fighting?” Nell inquired.
“No,” he scoffed. “Why would you think that?”
“Emeline is very sad, and we don’t know why.”
“You’ve talked to her this morning?”
“Yes.”
He was so relieved! He’d been afraid that something might have happened to her. Yet he couldn’t run around, demanding information as to her whereabouts. He was supposed to simply be her boss, with no deeper connection.
“I’m glad you’ve seen her,” he said. “I was getting worried.”
“She told us that we’re leaving Stafford, but we don’t want to go.”
“You’re not leaving,” he insisted. “You’re staying right here. She’s being silly.”
They kept staring at him, and their big green eyes—Em’s green eyes—made him fidget with guilt. He nodded toward the upper floors. “Find her for me. I haven’t had any luck. Tell her I’ll be in the library.”
They trudged off, and he watched them climb the stairs, then he spun and went to the library to wait for her.
It was only nine o’clock but, needing to quell the shaking of his hands, he poured himself a brandy and downed it in a quick gulp.
He never examined his behavior or fretted over his motives. He barged through the world, positive of his goals and confident of his place in it, but now, he was questioning everything.
Why had he forged ahead with her? Why had he proceeded—when he’d known there would be a bad end? Why had he hurt her?
He was so fond of Emeline, and he felt so close to her. He liked that they were friends, that they had bonded in a fashion he never had with another. For once, he was ashamed of himself, and remorse was eating him alive.
Booted strides sounded in the hall, and his brother peeked in.
Stephen had abruptly decided to return to London, and Nicholas had no idea why. In light of Nicholas’s maudlin mood, he was eager for the company.
“The horses are ready,” Stephen said. “Let’s go.”
“I still have to talk to Miss Wilson.”
“You haven’t yet?”
“No.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Stephen grumbled. “Make it fast. Make it blunt. I don’t want her languishing, assuming you’ll change your mind. She’s a romantic at heart. She has to understand that you’re a complete ass and will never renege on your engagement.”
“Don’t tell me how to handle this.”
“Someone should.”
“And that would be you?” Nicholas snidely retorted.
“Yes. So far, you’ve done nothing but spread chaos and confusion. Clean up after yourself. Have mercy on her. Cut your ties. Be brutal if you have to, but finish it.”
“I will, I will.”
Stephen scowled, convinced that Nicholas wasn’t wise enough to say what needed to be said, and Nicholas himself wasn’t certain he was up to the task. He’d harmed Emeline in so many ways, and there was no recompense that could repair the damage he’d inflicted.
Ultimately, Stephen shrugged. “I’ll check the horses. Don’t dawdle. I want to get out of here.”
He stomped off, and Nicholas sat, brooding and alone. He gazed out the window, at the manicured park stretching to infinity, the woods and rolling hills off in the distance.
There was a peaceful ambiance to the estate that he enjoyed, and he had to admit that—when he was mired in the hectic city, then his hectic army camp—he would miss the slow serenity.
Out in the hall, strides echoed again. They were a female’s softer tread, and he would recognize it anywhere.
Suddenly panicked, he rushed to the sideboard for a second shot of liquid courage. Then he seated himself behind the large desk.
She
