If he had her alone in a private place, he wasn’t certain he could do this. He knew she was affected by him physically. He’d likely try to take advantage of that.
“No. But I wanted you to know I am leaving.”
“But you just got here?” She did not understand. Or perhaps she did but didn’t know how she felt about it.
“I’m returning to Trequin Bay—toSecours—my estate. I won’t be bothering you any longer.” He almost couldn’t get the words past the thickness of his throat. “I’m sorry—for everything.” And then he held out the bouquet of flowers he’d brought.
A short bark was followed by the scampering of little feet. Chance squatted down and used both hands to rub the dog. “I’ll miss you as well, old buddy.” He even allowed Lancelot to get a few licks in.
It would be the last time. He was glad she’d had this little creature for company when he left her before. “We’ll always have Stonehenge.” Chance smiled weakly up at her.
“Did I hear you say you were leaving us for the country?” Dandy Dick had followed them. Perhaps he wasn’t such a fool after all… The bounder.
Leaving us…
Leaving him and Aubrey…
Chance pushed himself back up. This was it. As it should be. “Make her happy.” The directive wouldn’t make much sense to the man, or it shouldn’t anyhow—unless Aubrey had told him the truth.
Not waiting for a response, he took one last look at her; he’d memorize her countenance to last him a lifetime.
But where to look? At her glorious hair? Her soft skin? Her alluring figure? In the end he settled on her eyes.
“Goodbye, Princesse.”
Her eyes looked panicked, and she licked her lips as though she wanted to say something. As though she would stop him?
“Have a safe journey, Your Grace,” Dandy answered for both of them.
Chance gave Aubrey one last look and seeing only sorrow on her face, nodded. And then refusing to torment himself even a second more, he turned and marched toward the door. Without looking back, he stepped outside and closed it silently behind him. He’d thought he’d felt empty two years ago, when he’d left her then. But perhaps inside, he’d kept an ember of hope alive.
On this day, there were no embers left burning.
It was over.
* * *
“We’re leaving tomorrow morning,”Chance didn’t bother greeting Mr. Edwards as he entered the master’s chamber in his townhouse later that afternoon. He’d had to finalize some details with Mr. Burleson. He’d told the solicitor that the transactions he’d executed regarding her estate need no longer be kept confidential. She deserved to know. He’d also ordered several hot house bulbs to be delivered after he’d gone.
He shouldn’t have. He ought to give her the clean break he’d promised, but it would be the last thing he’d do.
The consequence of his errands, however, made it impossible for him to get out of town that day. He sent word to Hollis that he’d thrown in the towel. They’d been going to meet at White’s that evening. He’d rather not face the bounder’s sarcastic insults, though. Later, he’d manage it, but his feelings, for now anyhow, were too raw.
He dismissed Mr. Edwards and changed out of his garments himself, tossing his jacket on the bed and tearing at his cravat.
Every curse word he knew tore through his thoughts, directed at himself. None of his good intentions had panned out, because of his own selfishness.
He’d left without saying goodbye to protect her.
He’d involved himself in her affairs in order to pave her way in London.
And then he’d ruined everything hoping that she might still love him.
Selfish bastard that he was.
He stared at the silver ring he’d worn on his right hand and then on impulse twisted it off. In Joseph’s Well, that night, he’d worn it on his left hand. He’d switched it to his other hand on his wedding day and hadn’t removed it since.
Whipping his arm around, he threw it into the corner. A very unsatisfying endeavor as the only sound it made was a high-pitched thud when it hit the wall. A foolish response, he knew, but he wasn’t used to losing. He…
