“I didn’t know they would be there,” he said, attempting to defend himself.
“Whatever,” she threw at him and ignored the way he mouthed the word contemptuously. “Why did you leave? Where were you going?” She wanted him to tell her he wasn’t running away.
“I…I…It…”
“Really?” she mocked. “You can’t even talk about it? Were you running from me?”
When he didn’t answer, she yanked her arm free, but he grasped her wrist again. “I asked you where you were going, Fable.”
“To my room.”
“Did you eat?”
Oh, how could his voice alone tempt her to forgive him anything? But she’d been unprepared for so many critical eyes and spiteful tongues. He’d dressed her up, put her on stage alone for all to see and laugh at. She yanked her arm away. “Don’t concern yourself with me anymore, Your Grace.”
“I’d like nothing more than to do that, Miss Ramsey,” he told her in a voice strained with control.
A dream come true…for someone else.
“Oh? Is that so?” she demanded, feeling her temper rising. “Fine. I’ll make it easy for you.”
He’d heard the things Lady Charlotte had said to her. Why wasn’t he telling her that he didn’t see her in those ugly ways? Was any of it even his fault? She wasn’t sure about anything! She didn’t even know if the life she was living right now was real!
“I’m leaving.” She wondered why she couldn’t look at him while she said it.
“I don’t think you’re well enough–”
“I’ll be fine, My Lord Duke.” Now she lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I know how to survive on my own.”
It pierced her insides that he wasn’t asking or telling her to stay. He’d made his feelings clear. He wanted to stop concerning himself with her.
“Thank you for everything.” Unlike her mother, she would thank her host. She turned on her heel and left him behind.
He didn’t stop her. He didn’t call out. He let her go. She would never forgive him for that.
She stepped into the guest chambers and bolted the door behind her. She knew how to walk away from a person who really didn’t care one way or the other if she was around–or if she was a burden. So, her silly fairytale was over. They always ended. So what? What was so special about Benjamin West anyway? she asked herself, swiping foolish tears from her cheeks. So what if he walked with the rigid arrogance of a prince? He wasn’t one. So what if he was as detached as a statue of a warlord? He was just a man. So what if he was always reluctantly warm and caring toward her? She swiped a tear away from her cheek and reached behind her for the laces of her bodice. She pulled off everything Edith had dressed her in except her hose and found the clothes she arrived in. She slipped on her black shorts and boots, along with her top, thankfully cleaned by someone who worked here. Lastly, she tugged the babies-breath from her hair and pulled her locks free.
She’d head back to Ipswich and get the pocket watch from where she’d hidden it. Whoever was chasing her wouldn’t think she’d go back. Would he? She prayed he wasn’t outside the front doors right now. Come to think of it, wherewerethe frontdoors? She shrugged and peaked outside the guestroom door for any sign of the duke. There wasn’t any. She swore an oath and set out on her way.
Unfortunately, she met over a dozen people on her way to the exit. At least six of them were stately looking ladies with powdered wigs and faces. Fable knew the white facial powder was in. Of all the fads, that was the one she understood the least. Why would anyone want to look like the walking dead? Each lady had a mother beside her to match. Fable felt as if she were in some drug-induced dream. The ladies all stared at her obscene way of dressing, shaking their heads disapprovingly. The men stared for other reasons.
She hurried out. Good riddance, Colchester House!
The door slammed shut behind her.
#
She walked for about an hour after the rain started, swearing at the torrential downpour–and at Benjamin West, His Grace the Duke of Colchester for not being the things he said he was, dependable, permanent. She had to find shelter but she didn’t want to run into a barn or someplace without people, especially since she had the feeling someone was following her. She turned twice to confront whoever it was, but her vision was severely impaired in the heavy rain.
She considered that it might be the duke keeping pace behind her, but he wouldn’t have let her get drenched before stopping her. Would he? No. He was considerate.
Something fell behind her. She spun around. “Who’s there! Ben? Your Grace?”
She saw a shadow move in the downpour and shielded her eyes. A man moved closer. “You call for the duke,” a vaguely familiar voice rang out. “Do you know him?”
She caught the flash of metal in the moonlight. A sword? His voice! It was the time-traveler! She fought the urge toscream. Who would come to save her? There was no one. Nothing had changed. She braced herself as he approached. If he put a finger on her– Her heart thumped in her chest and made her feel lightheaded and dizzy.
#
