“He discovered Mr.Gordstone’s lies—for which I was, of course, grateful—but, instead of consulting me about how best to proceed, he happened upon the man and Lord Holcombe in the drive.He threatened them, told them to leave, and entirely took care of the matter without so much as speaking to me first.”
“What a villain,” Sally said dryly.
“Parkhorne ismyhome—it ismineto protect,” Beatrice objected.
“No, Beatrice,” Sally said, her voice gentle but her tone firm.“Parkhorne belongs to all of us.I know you’ve done so much these past six years to keep it running.To make it what it is today.But it is not yours alone.”
“Well, it is certainly not Lord Leith’s.”
“Beatrice, the man loves you.Perhaps, he should have consulted with you first.But you cannot complain of his results.Who cares how a wretch like Gordstone was gotten rid of as long as he is gone?”
“And that is not all,” she said, breaking out into fresh tears, which were somehow tears of sadness and vexation at once.“He told me that I shouldleaveParkhorne Hall.That my life was wasted here.”
When Beatrice said the words, she was sure that Sally would take the offense to them as she had done.But, instead, her sister was quiet.
“Why are you silent?”she said, anger flashing at the ingratitude she detected in this silence.“After all I have done, are you suggesting that everyone merely wishes me gone?”
Her sister stopped.They had reached the house.She put her hand on her arm.“No one wishes you gone, Beatrice.We all love you.I am sure George and Malcolm would delight to have you here forever.But is that what you really want?”
Now, it was Beatrice’s turn to be silent.
“One day, the estate will belong to George.It already does belong to him, but it will fall to his management, when he is old enough to take it over.And don’t you think, Bea, that there is a life beyond this place that might offer you more?”
Two weeks ago, her answer would have beenno.But now Beatrice realized, with mortifying speed, that Leith had been right.
She had wanted to go to London.She had wanted to experience something else.She hadn’t been able to admit it to herself—and so when the threat of Mr.Gordstone had appeared, she had seized on the opportunity.Shehadwanted to experience more.
Still, it was painful to imagine giving up her home.
As if reading her thoughts, Sally said, “Even if you move to London or elsewhere, it does not mean you give up this place.It will always be your home.I will not live here much longer myself—and yet that is how I feel.”
Beatrice let her tears flow freely now.There was no use in stemming them—and Sally didn’t care.
She rested her head on Sally’s shoulder and they both stared up at the house.
“It’s a beautiful place, don’t you think?”Beatrice said.
“It is,” Sally said, patting her arm.
Beatrice knew, in her heart, that she needed to go to London.
She couldn’t live without him, it turned out.
If he could forgive her, she would marry him whenever he liked.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Leith did notrelish another three days of hard travel back to Somerset.But, if it mean he would see her again, it was nothing.
He decided to take his carriage, but he couldn’t stand the idea of more confinement, so he took his own horse as well, galloping ahead of his conveyance.The exercise was good for him and gave him time to think.
About Beatrice.
And all he wanted with her.
He imagined many things on that ride out of London.He imagined children with her dark hair and eyes and sharp mouth.He imagined himself as an old man, her fingers intertwined with his own, and how she would give purpose and meaning to his last days.He imagined himself tied up with her in bed, night after night, and all the things that they could and would explore.All the pleasure that he wanted to bring her, if she would only let him.
He thought of what he would say when he saw her again.How he would apologize for leaving, for being cross, for losing his temper and storming off.He would explain that, before her, he had scarcely been alive.That she had saved him from a tomb of apathy and passionless encounters.That he was indebted to her for the saving of his very soul.And that he would follow her to the ends of the earth—or, more likely, he would live all the days of his life in Somerset—if it meant she would keep saving him every day with her boldness and her gentleness and her inability to settle for less than what she wanted.
