“Have I done something wrong?”
Had she?Aside from losing his fiancée. “No.” He shook his head. “I came to tell you—”
“On your right,” she interrupted. “There is a low branch sticking out. It will strike your cheek if you continue straight.”
Theodore adjusted his chair and they continued. “I came to tell you that Mrs. McNeil assures me your work has been exemplary—something we both find rather odd for a woman in your position. But regardless, you have earned your ticket home, and one will be purchased for you first thing tomorrow morning when you are delivered to the train station in Inverness.”
A slight pause met his announcement, followed by a quiet, “Thank you, milord.”
She didn’t sound thankful, rather sad. Disappointed.Because she has not had time to accomplish whatever plot she’d planned here?
“Where will you return to in England?” he asked. “Now that you are no longer needed as a chaperone.”
“I have other duties awaiting me—similar to those I have performed here for the past week.”
“Is that not highly irregular—a woman of your position employed as a maid?”
“A womaninmy position has very little say or choice in her employment. I consider myself fortunate to have a roof over my head.”
He stiffened at her reply and felt a twinge of guilt. Was it possible he had judged her wrong? Maybe her skills as a chaperone were so poor—obviously, given how she had bungled this opportunity—that she had little choice but to work as a maid. What else was a gently bred spinster of little means to do?
But there was still the matter of the telegram from Violet’sfather. “Are you employed in the household of Violet’s parents, Lord and Lady Worthington?”
“I am.”
Had he imagined that sad little sigh, so quiet and quick it would have been imperceptible to one not listening so keenly? “They are your relations, are they not? Violet is your cousin, you said.” Some distant cousin once or twice removed, perhaps. But even so, a relation, nonetheless. Why, then, would they not support this elderly spinster cousin properly? Lord Worthington was certainly capable of it.Because he does not trust her?The woman had to have done something to earn that distrust and therefore become relegated to the position of a servant. Perhaps chaperoning his daughter had been Lord Worthington’s way of giving the woman another chance.And look what she’s done with it.Theodore felt his face warm as his ire rose yet again.
“Violet is my cousin. Lord Worthington is my father’s elder brother. When my parents died, he took me in.”
Brother?“Elder?” Theodore questioned, trying to make sense of what she’d said. This was no distant relation, and Lord Worthington was not terribly old—not even two score years older than his daughter. So the child of hisyoungerbrother would be— “How old areyou?”
If she thought it a peculiar or inappropriate question, he did not detect such in her reply.
“I am six and twenty. Five years older than Violet. Unfortunately, we have never been close, though we have resided in the same household since I was twelve.”
A surge of shock, followed swiftly by an awareness that had not been there a moment before, rippled through him.Just twenty-six. He’d believed himself to be speaking with a woman much older than himself. Certainly not one younger, one still of marriageable age, no matter what society said.
Instead of cooling his ire, this revelation only fueled it. He wheeled his chair faster. He’d bet that thisyoungspinster had not ruined the opportunity presented to her as a chaperone. No, indeed. Quite the opposite, in fact. She’d manipulated circumstances to her benefit extraordinarily, getting rid of his bride-to-be while conveniently inserting herself into his path.
And he had nearly fallen for it—allowing her to stay the week, walking with her now, beginning to know her, even wanting to trust her.
“Tell me, Miss Worthington, do you enjoy living with your aunt and uncle? Do you like working for them?”
“I—I do my best to be grateful.”
“You are unhappy, then?”
“There is a rock on your left, milord. You might wish to—”
“Do not attempt to change the subject.” There were many rocks along the pathway. He’d grown accustomed to the constant jarring. “Are you unhappy with your circumstances in England?”
“I see not why it matters to you. The rock is—”
“It matters a great deal. I insist that you tell me.”
“I cannot recall havingeverbeen happy since my parents and brother died. You really must adjust your chair so—”
“You saw an opportunity and took it!” Theodore pounced. “A way out of a life you despise, with an aunt and cousin who hate you and an uncle who mistrusts you. You got rid of Violet and came here to try to take her pla—” With a jolt, his head snapped as his front left wheel struck something hard. A half second later he was airborne, launched up and forward out of his chair as it came to a jarring stop. Theodore’s hands flailed wildly in front of him, bracing for an impact he could neither see nor protect himself from.
