Zachary did not waste a moment in lingering.
CHAPTER13
Izzy was in the carriage and it was not even yet noon.
Ellie was a godsend, as always.
She had overseen the packing of the remainder of Izzy’s belongings. She had spoken to their family on Izzy’s behalf. She had blunted Mama’s horror and Papa’s outrage. Her sister had also made certain she could flee through the servant stair and through the kitchens, with a veil draped over her hat so that no one would spy the signs of her misery.
Izzy did not want Zachary to suffer. She did not want scandal any greater than she would already face, having had two betrothals which never came to fruition. All she wanted was to leave Barlowe Park and everything that had happened here in the past.
Along with Arthur.
She had learned her lesson, and there would be no more heartaches in her future.
Never again would she entrust her heart to a man.
All she needed was for Ellie and Wycombe to join her so they could begin their journey to the train station.
The door to the carriage opened, sending sunlight streaming into the darkness she had created by closing the curtains on the carriage windows. She blinked at the brightness of it, then held up her hand to shield the bulk of the brilliance. Her eyes were always sensitive to the sun, but more so after all the tears she had recently shed.
The carriage swayed as the sound of booted feet hitting the stairs reached her. Wycombe was entering the conveyance before Ellie? That seemed rather out of character for him. She lowered her hand in time to realize it was not her sister’s husband who had entered the carriage.
This interloper had golden hair, peacock-blue eyes, and a mouth that loved to tell silken lies.
Zachary had come.
Her reaction was instinctive and vehement.
“Get out!” she shouted, forgetting to care about who might overhear or what manner of scene they were about to cause.
All the hurt that had been eating away at her from the moment she had seen him kissing Lady Anglesey rose, uncontrollable and wild. She wanted to lash out at him. To make him suffer as she had. To force him to admit what he had done. But she also wanted him gone. She had been doing everything in her power to avoid this meeting, and that he had found her despite her efforts was infuriating.
Instead of obeying her, he seated himself on the bench seat opposite hers.
“No,” he said calmly, his expression as serious as she had ever seen it.
No hint of his dimple, which was just as well. The feature was a reminder of how weak of flesh she was, how easily charmed by a handsome rogue.
“If you will not leave, then I shall,” she declared, gathering up her skirts and intending to flee the carriage.
She would walk to the train station if she had to.
“Izzy, sit.”
She ignored him, scrambling past him until his hands clamped on her waist and he hauled her back to her seat. She clawed at his hands, nearly delirious with her need to escape. “Let go of me, you brute.”
“Please, Izzy. Sit down and listen to what I have to say.”
“How dare you come into this carriage and think to order me about after what you have done?” she demanded, her fury rising like the swelling waters of a flooded river. “How do you dare to sit here and expect me to listen to a word that slips from your lying tongue?”
A tongue that had been in Lady Anglesey’s mouth the night before. And perhaps elsewhere.
She wanted to gag. And scream.
What was wrong with her that she continually chose the wrong man to give her heart? There must be some inherent defect that led her to make terrible decisions. To place her trust where there should be only suspicion. To lower her defensive battlements so that she could be overrun.
“I know what you saw last night,” he said, maintaining his eerie sangfroid, refusing to release her.
