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Authors: Jennifer Delamere

Tags: #Romance, #Inspirational, #Historical

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BOOK: An Heiress at Heart
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Only the question of what to do about Tom still gnawed at her. She would have to persuade him to leave Australia for America, or anywhere else that would keep him beyond Freddie’s reach. He would once again be forced to give up everything for her sake. But would he do it? She desperately hoped he would not return to England to fight Freddie again.

There was nothing for it but to shore herself up for whatever lay ahead. She began to turn back toward the road. “In fact, we should probably return now.”

Geoffrey held out a hand. “There is one more thing I would like to ask, before we go.”

She paused and looked up at him. “Yes?”

Geoffrey opened his mouth, then closed it again. Once again she saw the heightened color in his cheeks, the tightness around his eyes. Another moment passed. At last he said, “You never said what you had been doing
before
you and Tom sailed to Australia.”

A chill began to weave through Lizzie, as though the morning mist had found its way down the back of her neck. “What I did before leaving London has no bearing on this story,” she declared.

“I believe it does.” He stood very stiff, clenching his hands in a manner Lizzie had seen before, when he was
trying to keep his emotions in check. “Before you went to Australia, did you
know
Freddie Hightower?” He put an ugly emphasis on the word.

Lizzie stared at him in silent defiance. She should have known he would find out about Freddie. He would have soon, in any case. Nevertheless, she could not bring herself to answer his question.

She did not need to. He knew. She could see it in the horror and disgust crossing his face. “I offered you marriage,” he said as though it were an accusation. “I was willing to ruin my reputation for a—”

“Don’t say it,” she cut in angrily. “Do not say the word. If you recall, I turned down your offer. I never intended to marry you.”

“You never intended…” His face twisted in contempt. “That is to say, you were content only to lead me on?”

“I did not ask you to come to Rosewood,” she shot back. “You came of your own volition. And I most certainly did not intend to find you in the library last night—where, I might add, you were all too willing to toss aside your own honor and integrity. I denied you because I
loved
you. You may condemn me for a lot of things, but let me remind
you
of something,
Reverend Somerville.
Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”

It gave her strength to see him recoil at these words. Today their souls were laid bare. This was the truth of who they were. She was a fallen woman and a liar. He was a man who had allowed himself to be separated from the lofty ideals he claimed to uphold.

She prepared herself for another attack, but Geoffrey seemed to have no more fight left in him. He turned
away. The sun was beginning to clear away the mist, and he leaned heavily on the low stone wall, looking out across the endless fields.

It was as she had feared from the beginning. Despite her hopes and dreams to the contrary, she and Geoffrey would never be able to find an equal ground of love and respect. She had thrown herself into last night’s embrace precisely because she had been aware, in the deepest recesses of her heart, that it would be the last.

Slow, silent tears began to fall down Lizzie’s cheeks.

*

Lizzie was not entirely sure how she and Geoffrey made it back to the house. They had at some point turned as if by mutual consent and began walking, keeping a safe distance between themselves as they retraced their steps up the narrow lane.

They reached the wide gravel drive just in time to see Lady Thornborough’s carriage disappearing down the road that led to town. Lizzie approached Mr. Jarvis, who was still standing near the front door. “Has Lady Thornborough gone out?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Do you know where she has gone?”

“Gone to the station, madam.”

“To the
railway
station? She never takes the train.”

“It is unusual,” Jarvis agreed. “But she was in a great hurry.”

Lizzie and Geoffrey entered the front hall to find James descending the wide staircase. “Hello,” he said cheerfully. “Have you two been out for a walk already? You look quite done in.”

“Do you know why Grandmamma has gone to London?” Lizzie asked.

He shrugged. “No earthly idea.” He pointed to a letter on the side table. “Auntie left a note for you, though.”

With a tinge of trepidation, Lizzie picked up the letter and opened it.

My dear,
I am going to London on urgent business. Something has come up which demands my immediate presence. I shall return in a few days. Stay close to home while I am gone. I will speak to you immediately upon my return.

The note held only a vague salutation, and no signature. Lizzie was mulling over whether there might be any significance to this when James said, “Well? What has she to say?”

Lizzie looked up from the letter. “She has gone to London.”

James clapped his hands together, smiling. “Well, then. We shall make a merry party while she is gone. You, Ria, shall play hostess. Do you feel up to that, dear cousin?”

“We cannot stay,” Geoffrey said curtly. “It would not be proper. There is no chaperone.”

Geoffrey had a good reason for requesting a chaperone, Lizzie thought wryly, although it was completely unnecessary. She was sure nothing untoward would be happening in this house tonight.

“We don’t need a chaperone,” James declared. “We are family, are we not?”

Geoffrey involuntarily grimaced at that remark. Lizzie thought he might still have his doubts about whether she was a Thornborough, but he knew she was not his sister-in-law. She was afraid he was about to tell James where they really stood on the matter of “family.”

To her great relief, he chose not to. “As
cousins,
” Geoffrey returned, “you two are considered eligible for marriage.”

James snorted. “Nonsense. Ria is like a sister to me. And you are her brother-in-law, so there’s no need—” He cut himself off in midsentence. He looked from Geoffrey to Lizzie with a curious expression.

We must appear a strange pair,
Lizzie thought. Her face was swollen from crying, and Geoffrey’s was solemn and haggard. James might be inferring any number of things from their disheveled appearance. Heat crawled up her face, and she braced herself for one of his highly inappropriate remarks.

But he simply said, “I see you have made up your mind on the subject, Geoffrey. However, since this is my house, I have no qualms about remaining. Martha has gone to town with Lady Thornborough, but I will station a lady’s maid at Ria’s side night and day if that is what’s required to keep the gossip hounds at bay.”

Apparently Geoffrey did not intend to argue. “You may do as you see fit, of course,” he said dryly.

“Can you not convince him to stay, Ria?” James asked.

Lizzie did not trust herself to speak. She turned away to hide eyes that were again brimming with tears, and to avoid James’s curiosity.

“James,” said Geoffrey, “will you please have my
valet sent upstairs? I will need him to begin packing my clothes.”

James sighed in resignation. “As you wish.”

James called a footman over and delivered the necessary instructions to prepare for Geoffrey’s departure.

While James was thus occupied, Geoffrey said quietly to Lizzie, “I trust you will speak with Lady Thornborough as soon as she returns, and that you will inform me when you do?”

Lizzie nodded. “Of course.”

“I do not need to remind you that if you do not handle this right away, I will do so—and I will personally make sure the authorities become involved in the affair as well.”

How far they were from where they’d been just a few short hours ago, Lizzie reflected. How unutterably sad, too, that Geoffrey’s reaction to the truth had been so entirely in line with all her fears. But she would not cower before his threats or his scorn. “Rest assured, sir, that I have every intention of keeping my word.”

She knew Geoffrey caught the hostility underlying her words. He looked about to reply in kind. But he stopped himself. He turned toward the stairs.

“One moment, if you please,” Lizzie called after him.

He paused.

Lizzie slowly removed the ring—Edward’s ring—that had been on her finger. She walked to Geoffrey and held it out. “I believe this is rightfully yours now.”

Geoffrey took the ring. His expression shuttered, becoming hard and unreadable. Once more he turned away, and went up the stairs with a purposeful stride.

An hour later, Lizzie watched from an upstairs
window as James accompanied Geoffrey out the main door. Two footmen were just completing the task of securing Geoffrey’s trunks to his carriage. James and Geoffrey exchanged a few words and shook hands.

Even with all that had happened, Lizzie would have given anything to have seen Geoffrey look up, to give some sign that he still loved her, somewhere deep in his heart. Could his love really have vanished so swiftly and completely? She had been bracing herself for it for weeks, but she still could not accept it. “Please look up,” she whispered. “Please.”

But he did not look up. Without even a trace of a backward glance, Geoffrey stepped into the carriage and was lost from Lizzie’s view.

                                                          
Chapter 36

L
izzie sat at the piano, her fingers soundlessly stroking the tops of the ivory keys. It was comforting, as though she were somehow closer to Ria by sitting here.

She studied the open sheet music before her. The collage of strange marks and lines was like some kind of bizarre, esoteric language.
This must be how illiterate people feel when they see words in a book,
she thought.
They marvel at mysteries known to others but not to themselves.

These pages were as incomprehensible to Lizzie as her own life. She could neither understand nor explain how she had come to this point of being trapped in a vise of her own making. She was about to do the one thing she had been wishing for—to reveal herself to Lady Thornborough, to become completely honest, to be rid of her lies. But still she shrank from this task, knowing the trials that lay ahead.

Lizzie had been sorely tempted to run away immediately,
without facing Lady Thornborough. She could have disappeared in London and made her way back to Tom somehow. But it would have been a coward’s way out. Above all, she had given her word to Geoffrey, and although she could never hope to regain his love, she would from this point forward strive to live virtuously. Perhaps if she did so, the Lord would help her through the terrible things that were sure to come. She would discover if, like Saint Paul, the past could finally be put behind her.

“You do not seem to be practicing, cousin.”

James’s words broke her reverie. She turned to see him leaning casually against the door frame, observing her intently.

She straightened and blinked back the tears. “You startled me. I thought you went down to the village for the afternoon.”

“I did.” He sauntered into the room. “The afternoon is far gone.”

“Is it?” Lizzie glanced at the large grandfather clockand was surprised to see that it was nearly five o’clock.

“How long have you been sitting here, mooning over the sheet music and doing nothing?” James playfully chastised.

“Too long, it seems,” Lizzie replied with a sigh.

“You will be glad to know I received a note from Aunt, informing me she will be returning day after tomorrow on the three o’clock train—if, and I quote, ‘the train does not explode or get derailed by a stray cow.’ ”

He grinned, and Lizzie offered a weak imitation of a smile in return. “I think I know where you get your sense of humor, James.”

“I’m glad to see you smile,” James said comfortably. “You have been much too melancholy of late. For the life of me, I cannot figure out why. I cannot bring myself to believe you have been agonizing so over Geoffrey—he hardly seems worth it.”

This casual mention of Geoffrey was suddenly and inexplicably too much for Lizzie’s broken heart. She broke into a sob, knowing she was immensely foolish but unable to stem the tears that streamed down her face.

James sat next to her on the piano bench and placed an arm around her shoulders. “It’s all right,” he murmured soothingly, offering her a handkerchief. “It’s all right.”

He allowed Lizzie to cry herself out. “You and Geoffrey had a falling-out, didn’t you?” he asked, once her sobs had subsided into a few hiccups and sighs. “Whatever this rift is between you, I’m sure it can be mended. We’ll invite him back, and—”

“No!” Lizzie interrupted. “He will never come back.”

“I cannot believe that. Any fool, including me, can see how much you care for each other. How could he stay away?”

This started a fresh flow of tears, which Lizzie tried ineffectually to mop up with the handkerchief. “I’m sorry, James, but I cannot explain it to you now. I must first speak to—”

BOOK: An Heiress at Heart
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