“If you had wanted my pity, Knight, you should have appealed to my better self before you betrayed me.” She took another sip of tea, finding that nothing irritated him so much as that. “You know, if you had applied to my generosity directly, you would not have found yourself disappointed. I’m not unreasonable, and although I can only assume the cost of discharging your sister’s debts and bringing her back to England would not beinsignificant, I doubt I would have balked. My fortune, as you have ascertained, is considerable, and I am not extravagant.”
He merely stared at her, his expression, while pale, rigid and carefully blank.
“As it is, you have tried my patience one too many times. You thought that because Bolton had the recourse of brute strength, you could bend me to your will, but that was an error of judgement. I have fought for my freedom, and I have no intention of being shackled to you or any other.”
His jaw clenched, but he was otherwise silent. At least, she supposed, he knew when he had been beaten.
She also knew that even with the threat of his sister to hand, this would have been a different conversation if he had still possessed the painting. More of a battle.
Perhaps she did not intend to shackle herself to any man, but Henry did not offer her chains: he offered her a different kind of freedom. She had known that for a long time, but it had taken this final act of selflessness to shine a light into the true depth of her feelings. How much she would now sacrifice to be with him.
The past had been bitter, and it had come near to breaking her, but that was a fault she no longer assigned to Henry, ignorant as he had been to Bolton’s true nature. He had done what he could, and everything she had suffered since had been the fault of the man who had compelled her to suffer it.
Not Henry.
She might have needed every second of her nine years to forgive him, but forgive him she had. He would not break her heart again—and for that, she would have to marry him.
Fate was nothing if not fickle.
“Do you have anything to say to me before you leave?” she asked, and Knight glared balefully at her.
“You think you’re so clever,” he said, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion. “Threatening my sister.”
“Your capability for irony is truly astounding,” she said, waving her hand at one of the footmen to lead her guest away. “Don’t forget those letters.”
He gave her a mocking bow. “You’ve left me with no choice.”
“Excellent. That was wholly my intention.” Leaving the remainder of the cake where it was, she glanced at the other footman. “Is the carriage ready, William?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Something in her chest loosened. “Then I will leave at once.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Henry left London with a remarkable lack of fanfare, and a considerable hangover. He only had the vaguest recollections of what had occurred after he had travelled with Markham to Knight’s house, gained entry by the back door thanks to a key Markham had, and walked off with the painting.
After that, however, Henry’s memory became a little fuzzy. He suspected he had made a fool of himself in front of Louisa’s butler, and considering the amused looks Oliver was directing him, he had made a fool of himself in front of his brother, too.
It was the damnedest thing. If he could have, he would have slept the entire day through—a rarity for him—but unfortunately duty called, and as he had arranged for the house to be advertised the moment they vacated, he could not tarry in London.
The pounding in his head was only made worse by the movement of the coach and the grinning, solicitous comments of his brother.
At least it was not a long journey to Kent, and he told himself that the moment he arrived, he would rest. Perhaps even eat something, because his stomach had been roiling ever since he had awoken.
Then was the task of repairing the estate as far as was within his power. Unfortunately, aside from advising his father strongly, as he was not in full control of the estate there was very little he could do in terms of funds. But he could certainly organise things, endeavour for the staff to be paid, and pay visits to the tenants, seeing their quality of life and if there was anything they could all do to work together and improve the outcome of the land.
“Perhaps when we return to London, you will find a wife,” his mother said cajolingly.
“I doubt it,” he said.
“I’ll marry well,” Oliver said. “Andstudy hard.” He gave his brother a sanctimonious look. “Just like you hoped for me, Henry.”
Henry closed his eyes and wished very much for the journey to be over.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before they pulled up the gravel avenue to Beaumont Place, and Oliver tumbled out with all the enthusiasm of youth. Nathanial and Theo were already there, and just as Henry was wishing for peace, they found a way to grant it him.
“You must come and visit us, Mama,” Theo said. “Charles is at home, and it would be a very great shame for you to miss out on seeing him. You know he has a fondness for you. Plus, we asked Cook to have dinner ready for when you arrived. We thought you’d be hungry.”
