“I don’t want to shirk my duties.”
“No duties to shirk. No one’s about. Off with you now— No, wait right there.” She dashed up the stairs to her bedchamber, went to her vanity, opened a drawer, and pulled out a pair of silk gloves that she had yet to wear. When she returned downstairs, she offered them to her clerk.
“Oh, Miss Trewlove, I can’t take them. They’re far too lovely.”
“I have another pair.” Several in fact. “They’ll make you feel elegant on your outing.”
“If you’re sure...”
“I am.”
Her clerk took the gloves and stroked them. “I’ve never had anything so fine. I’ll wash them and bring them back—”
“They’re yours to keep. Who knows? You may have other occasions to wear them.”
“Thank you, Miss Trewlove. You’re always so generous.”
“Nonsense. I hope you both enjoy your evening.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Mr. Tittlefitz told Marianne.
“I’ll just get my reticule.”
She disappeared into the office, and Fancy turned to her brother’s secretary. “I’m so glad things are going well between you and Marianne.”
“She’s a lovely lass. I’m sorry Mr. Sommersby won’t be assisting any longer with the lessons. I’d begun to like him.”
Fancy’s stomach dropped down to her toes as a wave of dizziness along with a spot of dread hit her. “Why will he no longer be helping?”
He seemed taken aback by her question. “I assumed he’d spoken to you about his plans. He’s moved on.”
Trying to make sense of his words, she stared at him. “What do you mean he’s moved on?”
“He brought me the key to his terrace just before noon. Told me he wouldn’t be staying for the remainder of his lease, had already packed everything up and moved out. Odd thing. He’d paid for two months in advance. Said I was to use his remaining balance to assist anyone struggling to make their monthly rent.”
“What’s this, then?” Marianne asked, clutching her reticule.
“I was just explaining to Miss Trewlove that Mr. Sommersby won’t be helping with the lessons any longer.”
“He doesn’t have to live here to help us,” she said.
Mr. Tittlefitz looked at her sadly. “He told me he wouldn’t be returning to the area.”
She could barely think for the blood rushing between her ears. She’d left him believing she was going to marry Beresford, because at the time she’d thought it was her only alternative. She’d given him no hope, no reason to believe that they had any chance of being together. But she certainly hadn’t expected him to pack up so quickly, to be gone in the span of a couple of hours. Her chest was in danger of caving in on itself. “Did he happen to say where he was going?”
“No, miss.”
Maybe he was going to live with his sister. She didn’t even know the woman’s name. How could she find him to let him know that she wasn’t going to marry Beresford? She knew so much about him, yet so few intricate details. “You two should be off now, making the most of your evening.”
After they left, she wandered through the shop, and everywhere she looked she had memories of Matthew. Waltzing around the shelves, tucking her hair behind her ear, lifting her onto the counter and kissing her senseless.
That night, she sat in her window nook, looking across the way at his darkened residence. Where had he gone? How could she find him? He needed to know that she loved him with every fiber of her being, that she wanted to marry him, wanted to make a life with him.
Waiting in vain for light to spill forth from his window, for him to return to her, she’d never felt lonelier in her entire life.
Chapter 25
Using a linen cloth, Fancy dried the platter that her mum handed her. It was the last of the dishes that needed to be washed after the luncheon they’d shared. It was Sunday, but not the first one of the month, so the rest of the family hadn’t gathered here, for which she was grateful because she had things to say to her mum and would rather say them privately. Besides, her mood was melancholy and wouldn’t serve anyone any good. She probably shouldn’t have bothered her mum, but she’d needed a little distraction.
