The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV) (28 page)

Fiona had never given him a reason to be
suspicious, but her lack of answer about the pearls was driving him
to distraction. Why could he not trust her? Could it be his own
doubts and insecurities over Mary Elizabeth that were plaguing him
these many years later?

It had been ten years,
ten years
,
since his humiliation with Mary Elizabeth. Why could he not get her
out of his subconscious? Why did he naturally think Fiona would
treat him the same way Mary Elizabeth had? They were nothing alike.
Not in deed, word, or temperament. Were the scars Mary Elizabeth
inflicted on his heart so profound he could never have faith in
another woman ever again?

Fiona didn’t deserve that. It was certainly
not her fault Mary Elizabeth had broken his heart, and it was
certainly not Fiona’s fault he couldn’t get past it. Fiona had done
nothing to warrant his contempt, his ridicule, or his insane
distrust.

Mary Elizabeth had settled herself in a place
in his mind that he would always look back on with regret. He’d
never recovered from her leaving him, or her playing him the fool.
She
was the one who would make him jealous on purpose.
She
was the one who wanted his title and his name.
She
was also the one who left him when something better came
along.

Fiona was
nothing
like Mary Elizabeth.
Her unpretentious air in dealing with the
ton
left him
mystified. He’d never met another woman so impervious to nobility
and breeding. She was genuine and sincere, took everyone she met at
face value, and expected the same in return. She cared not that she
was a duchess, but took great pride in being one if only to help
those less fortunate. Her volunteer work for the orphanage amazed
him. And the zeal with which she gathered the ladies to form a
committee on the returning soldier’s plight, still left him with a
lump in his throat.

Mary Elizabeth had no such compunction. She
had always thought in terms of herself, what she could get, have,
want that was better than anybody else. Fiona didn’t have a
conceited bone in her body. Her first thought was always about what
someone else needed. From him and his mother down to Edwards and
Merry, and even the little cat she had brought home. She made sure
it was given a saucer of milk before she would join him for
luncheon that day. She always placed her desires last.

For the last month or so, Fiona seemed to be
waiting for something. What it was Robert couldn’t say. And she
seemed to have found it at Penny’s that one particular afternoon.
However, with the look she gave him this morning in the
conservatory, it appeared she no longer cared about what it had
been, as though nothing in the world would matter to her ever
again. Almost as if the person she loved most in the world had
died.

The anguish that gripped Fiona over Robert’s
accusation felled her. In her room, she lay across her bed,
inconsolable. Merry, clearly unused to seeing her mistress so
distraught, brought anything she thought Fiona could need, but
there was nothing that would ease the ache in her heart. Robert had
no idea how much he had hurt her, how hateful he had been with
those hideous words…I will divorce you if you cuckold me. He hadn’t
even allowed her to explain the pearls, but jumped to his own
disgusting conclusions.

Fiona was grateful she had never confessed
her love to him. How many times had she tried to tell him, and
always, something held her back. Thankfully now, he would never
know.

Everything Robert had done and said these
last weeks, meant nothing. His praise, his flattery, his
flirtations, all lies. For in the end, no matter what he said, or
how he acted toward her, he would still be rid of her. He was
nothing more than a scurrilous hateful libertine, spewing
fabrication and falsehood to make her become his biddable wife.

She sat up, and dried her eyes. Well, no
more. Nothing he would ever say would matter to her, for if she
meant so little to him, then he certainly didn’t merit any
consideration from her. Now that she knew all hope for a true
marriage was lost, that the annulment was inevitable, she replaced
her grief with a firm determination. She would never open her heart
to any man ever again. It was just too painful. She had lived this
long without love, she would live without it forever if this was
the agony it wrought.

She needed to get out of the house, as far
away as she could. She would liked to have packed and left forever,
but she needed a plan first. And she couldn’t think about leaving
for good until she was in a better frame of mind. She climbed off
the bed.

“Merry, I think I should like to go for a
drive. Would you be so kind to inform Eammon of my intentions and
have the old carriage brought about?” She reached into the armoire
for her very plain calico day dress she used to wear in Scotland.
Its violet hue soothed her.

“But your ladyship,” Merry said, while
automatically undoing the buttons on Fiona’s morning gown. “Would
you not like to drive in the new one His Grace had made for you? It
looks so lovely.”

“No, Merry. Not today.” Not with the Cantin
crest adorning the side panels. Fiona did not wish to be
recognized. “And please have Eammon wait for us in the mews instead
of ‘round front. If anyone questions what you are doing, where you
are going, tell them you are picking me flowers. I do not wish for
anyone to know what we are about.”

Merry, finished with the buttons, shot her a
speculative glance, and left to do her bidding.

Fiona placed wet flannelling on her face to
try and remove some of the puffiness from her eyes, but saw it was
no use. Another thing she had no cause to care over. Her days as
the Duchess of Cantin would soon be over, and her looks did not
matter anymore. Not that they ever had.

She slid into the old calico, took her giant
sunbonnet off the peg, and placed it on her head. She grabbed her
favorite shawl, slipped her reticule in her pocket, and made her
way down the servants’ staircase. Just her luck, Edwards stood in
the kitchen. She picked up the cat sitting on the windowsill and
buried her face in its neck.

“Are you going out, Lady Fiona?” Edwards
asked.

Of course he would inform Robert of her
whereabouts. “Just to enjoy the garden, Mr. Edwards. Lady Joanna’s
roses need a little pruning.” She tilted her face enough to answer
him without him seeing her eyes.

“Ah, yes. Well, do not stay out too long. You
do not wish to become overheated.”

She smiled under her bonnet. “No, of course
not.” She put down the cat, picked up her mother-in-law’s gardening
basket, and waited until Edwards left the room before she set it
down again and walked out the back door.

Eammon and Merry waited beside the landaulet.
“I believe I would like to take a ride out of the city, Eammon.
Somewhere where the air is fresh and the grass is green.”

“You do not wish to ride in the park, then,
your ladyship?”

“No, Eammon, I do not wish to see any of my
acquaintance. I long for solitude. I have a lot of thinking to
do.”

He helped her into the coach. Merry took his
hand to join her and Fiona said, “Merry, why do not you ride up
front with Eammon.” Clearly the poor child did not know what to
make of Fiona’s abnormal behaviour. First the crying, then the
lying, now the ride out of town up front instead of beside her.
Fiona said in a soothing tone, “I am well, Merry. I need you with
me, but I wish to be alone. ‘Tis all right. Sit up front with
Eammon.”

When Merry was settled, Eammon snapped the
reins and they headed off down the mews. Fiona didn’t care where
they went, as long as they left London. With the front half of the
carriage top down, the breeze flowed over Fiona, and she took off
her bonnet.

Fiona leaned into the corner of the squabs
and closed her eyes. They rode for some time before Fiona caught
the scent of freshly cut hay. She peered out from behind the
carriage hood and saw they were well past the city limits and in
some sort of farming community. She maneuvered the straps, which
held the back of the carriage hood upright. It came down with a
thud and Eammon turned in his seat.

“Lady Fiona, I would have taken care of
that.”

Fiona smiled. “Not necessary. I managed.
Where are we exactly?” Fiona took in the picturesque countryside
with cows dotting the fields along with corn and rye.

“St. John’s Wood, or nearly there. The
village is a few miles further.”

“Do you know of a reputable spot for
luncheon?” she asked. “Nothing fashionable, however, I think a cup
of tea and a pastry would do well.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Fiona breathed in the fresh air and as they
came upon the little village noted how simple it was. A milliner,
grocery, cobbler, blacksmith, an inn, a tavern, and a small bakery,
surrounded the village green. A church and cemetery sat off to the
side of the main square. ‘Twas nothing like London, and Fiona
thought it would make a nice refuge. Perhaps this is where she
would settle when Robert was finally rid of her. Of course, she
could always go back to Scotland, and her father, but then, she
could always go to the sea. She recalled her days in Swansea with
Robert and although the memories were painful, she liked the idea
of living by the ocean.

She pushed all thoughts of where she would
live out of her mind as Eammon led them through High Street and
turned left at the blacksmith. He pulled up in front of a lovely
little cottage surrounded by a white picket fence. Was this
someone’s house?

Eammon jumped down from his perch and tied
the reins, then proceeded to help Merry off the equipage. He then
brought the step down for her.

“’Tis a place I know that I think you will
like, my lady. Nothing fancy, yet the biscuits are very good. I
believe you might enjoy the atmosphere as well.”

“Thank you, Eammon.” She pulled several coins
from her reticule and handed them to Eammon. “Why do not you and
Merry have a little walk. Take luncheon if you will. I will find
you when I am finished.”

Eammon nodded and stepped away. Merry asked
if she was sure she would be all right.

“Oh yes, Merry, I am perfectly well. I need
to sort my thoughts. Do not worry. I shall not come to any harm.”
She took her maid’s hand and squeezed it. “Now run along and enjoy
your time with Eammon.”

She watched her servants walk down the road
before she turned and entered the cottage.

Eammon was right, the atmosphere was
delightful with large plants and cozy furnishings. Not quite a
restaurant, not quite a patisserie, Fiona was reading the bill of
fare when she heard her name called.

“Lady Fiona, to what do I owe the
extraordinary pleasure of meeting you here?”

Fiona turned and found Lord Greenleigh.
“Greenleigh, this is a pleasure. How do you do?”

“I’m very well, thank you. Tell me, are you
dining alone? Would you care to join me? I find my table with an
excellent view, but it would be a great deal lovelier with you
sitting across from me.”

Fiona nodded. “That would be nice, yes, thank
you.”

He led her to his table, and he was right,
the view was incomparable. Overlooking the small gardens in the
back of the house, the large windows were open and the smell of
lavender and roses calmed her unsettled mind.

A waiter took her order and after delivering
her lemonade, Fiona said to Greenleigh, “Thank you again, for
asking me to join you. I had thought I wanted to be alone, but your
company is proving much better for my nerves.”

“What has Cantin done now? Declared you
cannot walk about in the sunshine without a parasol?”

A slight smile touched her lips. “You know my
husband very well, it seems. No, nothing of the sort. Although his
pomposity is growing old and I find I cannot wait for the day….” Oh
no, had she gone too far? She glanced at Greenleigh who wore a
curious expression on his face.

“Wait for what day, Lady Fiona?”

Fiona wondered if she should bare her
secrets. Greenleigh was indeed trustworthy, she considered him a
very good friend, and at this juncture, she had no one else in
which to confide.

“Lady Fiona,” Greenleigh said. “I can see you
are clearly troubled.” He reached across the table and clasped her
fingers. “Your eyes are red-rimmed and puffed beyond measure. You
do not wear the same confident countenance I regard with such
esteem. Please, allow me to listen to your worries and be of some
help if I may. On my honour as a gentleman, you may be assured of
my confidentiality.”

Fiona wasn’t sure if the sincerity of his
words, or the promise of his silence broke down her defenses, but
over the next hour Fiona unburdened her heavy heart.

Greenleigh listened, nodded, and slipped her
his handkerchief when she broke down in tears once more.
Thankfully, they sat away from the rest of the diners who could not
witness her upheaval.

“And so you see, Greenleigh, Robert has no
wish to stay married to me. I was a fool to ever think that he
would.” Fiona heaved a shudder. Her crying spent, her soul divested
of its burden, the only thing she desired now was to wake from the
nightmare that had become her life.

“My dearest girl, I am so sorry you have had
such a sorry time of it. Cantin should be pummeled with the same
ferocity as he did to Stockton.”

“No.” She smiled weakly. “It is my ultimate
cross to bear. I placed myself in this precarious position. I have
only myself to blame.”

“Lady Fiona, how can you blame yourself? You
did what you thought was right for the situation in Scotland. You
were only thinking of the sorry sod, not the trouble it would bring
further down the road.” He took up her hand again. “Tell me, is
there anything I might do for you? Any way I could make this
intolerable circumstance better? I would do anything to erase the
sadness from your spirit.”