“Gammon. Your absence will do that quite nicely. Adeline will be distraught.”
Hugh placed a stack of neatly-folded cravats in the corner of his case. “Then I depend upon you to lighten her spirits.”
“Damn it, Hugh, it’s been a week. Don’t you think the two of you could talk about it now?”
“There is nothing to discuss. Miss Mannion made her views eminently clear to me.”
“Well, I’ll tell you something that’s not clear to me, and that’s why you’re so insistent upon returning to England to live. What’s there for you? True, you have an easy competence that will allow you to live life comfortably without worry, but I can’t see you as a man of leisure. What are you going to do? Tend fields? Enter politics? That’s all you’ll be able to do without risking ostracizing theton.They might forgive this little foray of yours into trade as a lark but become further involved and they’ll shun you.”
“I doubt that,” Hugh contradicted without looking up, his movements as he swiftly and efficiently packed the bag.
“Do you? Do you really? You can lie to me, but you’d better not lie to yourself,” Trevor warned. “Remember, I lived in England, and coming from trade, I know what reception I received. You’ve been at war for so many years that England has become some Elysian Fields to you and bears little resemblance to reality.”
“Our cases are different. You’re an American.”
“And you would take an American woman to live in England? You tell me our cases are different? Egad, but Vanessa was correct. You are arrogant,” he said with disgust.
Hugh straightened, and one blond eyebrow rose in an otherwise impassive face as he looked at his erstwhile friend. “But as you once told me, no more so than any other Englishman.”
“It appears I was wrong,” Trevor said harshly, flinging the bedroom door open and stalking out.
Hugh stared at the door, then slowly crossed the room to close it gently, his hand resting for a moment on its carved paneling. Trevor was correct. There wasn’t anything for him in England. Nonetheless, Vanessa should have loved him enough to go wherever he went. That she didn’t ripped at his very being like the tearing claws of a lion. He’d been to the center of the maze and managed to come back out, but without the prize, and the wounds from the skirmish would take forever to heal.
His mind was dull, his only thought to travel upriver on a steamboat, and from there, he hoped to explore a bit of the countryside, to let its untamed wilderness ease the pain in his chest. Perhaps it was for the best. Their cultures were diverse, and more than likely she would not be happy in England. All the reasons he desired to see her in London society were tied to the fact that she would set the town on its ear, and such circumstance would invariably lead to her ostracism by thebeau monde. He was a veritable cad to wish to see her humiliated so. However, she was worth more than any English miss who paid mere lip service to the society’s rules herself but categorically renounced anyone else who strayed from the proper path.
He had undoubtedly made a mull of his relationship with Vanessa. He was worse than any callow schoolboy. He swore savagely under his breath, then turned back to packing his things.
* * *
“Vanessa, what do you think of this orchid-colored material?” Adeline asked, fingering a bolt of filmy muslin.
Her sister didn’t answer.
“Vanessa?” Adeline called, dropping the bolt to look around the small shop. She spotted her sister staring at a magnificently-attired quadroon woman. She laid her hand on her arm. “Vanessa?”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry, did you wish to show me something?”
“Yes, an orchid fabric over here,” she said, leading her to the bolt of cloth. “But why were you staring at that woman?” she asked softly.
“Because she has been staring at me and has done so in the past three shops we’ve entered.”
“She’s been following us?”
“So it would appear, but it’s i who have captured her interest for some reason, for I’ve purposely separated myself from you and Paulette to see if she followed either of you. She hasn’t. It’s I who has her interest, so I decided it would be best to stare back at her and let her know I am aware of her regard.”
“I don’t like this, Vanessa. Perhaps we should return home,” Adeline said nervously, glancing around the small establishment. It was filled with bolts of fabric, creating hidden shadowed corners. “Where’s Paulette now?"
"Purchasing some ribbons to refurbish her pink silk hat, I believe.”
“Well, let’s get her and leave,” she suggested.
“No, I don’t believe so,” Vanessa said slowly. “I want to discover what this woman wants.”
“But you don’t know anything about her, and she looks like—like—”
“A man’s mistress? No, don’t blush so, Adeline. I agree. That’s what has me even more curious. What could such a woman, and a woman fashionably well-maintained, want with me?”
“You don’t think that Mr. Talverton . . . .”
