All at once, anguish took hold again. Liam managed to fall into the chair Freddie had vacated, defeated. He knew Spencer was right. His friendwastrying to help him. Trying to open his eyes to the impossibility of the situation, just as Rebecca had. Liamhadknown, but refused to acknowledge it.
Spencer gently put a glass of whisky in his hand, and sat again.
‘You must know,’ he said softly. ‘She can never be a countess. And I know you too well, despite all these years between us, to know that is what you want of her.’
No, I want—
Her.
He did. Not as his countess, perhaps, but only because he never wanted to be Earl. But he did want to share a life with her—he saw that now. Wanted her always by his side. Only, whatever way he looked at it, he couldn’t ask that of her. Spencer was right, he couldn’t make her his countess. The scandal would bring nothing more than hardship to her, even if they ran again, far away. As much as he might dream of them living quietly, exiled alone, even then it would be too much to bear.
And wouldn’t there be shame for her, too, if he asked her to be his, if he by some miracle enacted his plans? Would there not be dishonour in that, too? Was that not why he hadn’t breathed a word of his intentions? Because he knew she would see him differently? Not as the man come to set things to rights, but as the coward who didn’t know his place. His duty.
There would be shame, too, in making her his mistress.
She already is.
No. What they had, it was more than an arrangement. More than him setting her up in some apartment, paying her way. Paying the way for any children their nights together might bring. What they had shared...it was more than that.
‘I ask nothing of you,’she’d said that first night. She had simply given, everything of herself. And he...couldn’t ask her to give up her dignity for him.
Closing his eyes, Liam tossed back the drink, and looked over to his friend.
‘I am sorry, Reid,’ Spencer said quietly.
‘As am I.’
‘Freddie and I will leave in the morning.’
‘You don’t—’
‘Yes, we do.’
With a nod, Spencer rose and left Liam alone to his thoughts.
And as he sat in the chair that night, attempting to drown his frustration in fine wine and whisky, he could not shake a growing feeling of impending doom. Perhaps it was that he’d been caged into a role today, forced to become that which he despised. Perhaps it was his inability to further his plans. Perhaps it was what he’d done to Rebecca.
Whatever it was didn’t fade with the copious amounts he drank.
Chapter Twenty-One
The clock in the servants’ quarters had not long sounded nine when Rebecca heard the bell ring for Gregory. The guests were leaving, then. The Marquess’s valet had advised them of that last night, and Rebecca knew it was her fault.
It might have been easier to blame Liam’s outburst, but she couldn’t. The hours of fretful sleeplessness had shown her that. This—this entire mess—was her fault. Her shame, her embarrassment, Liam’s fracture with his friend—all of it—was because she’d not been strong enough to keep away from him.
All her life, she had prided herself on being a woman of honour, and dignity. It was all she’d ever had. Men and masters might control the lives of those beneath them, but they had no control over one’s heart, and self-respect. But now... Her actions had not only compromised her own honour, but also Liam’s.
Somehow, she knew Liam wouldn’t stop fighting what everyone else saw—knew. The Marquess, Mr Walton, even Thomas. They all accepted that this was how things were. That this was the way of the world. By fighting it, saying what he had, Liam had dishonoured himself—but not beyond reparation.
Men did not suffer the consequences of affairs as women did. He still had a chance to be seen as the lord he was—by his friend, by his servants and by society. If she was no longer part of the equation.
It was now up to her to set things to rights. Time for her to leave Thornhallow forever. After all, not only did their stations divide them, but also her past. What had happened, it precipitated things, but her leaving had never been in question. So, she would take a few days to gather what was left of her wits, then find somewhere quiet to go until she found a new position.
Before you make any more trouble. For any of them.
No one below stairs had said anything; they’d given her a wide berth, and quite a few supportive glances and small smiles. But while their loyalty bolstered her courage, and her pride, it was all just one more slash against her already breaking heart. Very soon, she would leave them, the closest thing to family she’d ever known.
You always knew it would come. This is your life. Better sooner than later.
