Being well trained, Wick’s butler did not blink an eye. “It is fortunate you are here, my lady. The letter you and Mr. Murray were expecting just arrived.”
The surveyor’s report.Her heart raced.
“I thought I heard a commotion out here.” Wick emerged, his hazel gaze honing in on her face. “Is everything all right?”
“The note from Mr. Norton arrived,” she managed.
Wick’s handsome features tautened as he took the letter from the butler. He ushered Beatrice into the study, where his mother waited. “Mama, I need to speak with Lady Beatrice in private.”
“Is that quite seemly?” the dowager began.
Something in Wick’s expression made her relent, and she departed in an offended swish. Wick went to his desk, sliding a letter opener under the seal. He paused, exhaling.
“Just read it,” Bea pleaded, clutching her hands.
He unfolded the page and scanned it.
“Norton says there is no other way through the property.” He looked up at her, his expression one of stunned defeat. “It’s either the farms…or the railway.”
36
Bea satin the window seat of her room, staring out the clear pane. An hour had passed since the arrival of Norton’s unambiguous report, the nail in the coffin of her future with Wick. If she didn’t give up her land, she killed his railway project. Any option she chose would end in pain…and she knew she’d already made her choice.
Wick’s reaction had told her he knew it too. He’d grown distant and cold; for once, he’d been bereft of words. What could he say, really? That he wouldn’t mind marrying the woman who’d destroyed his career, made him a public laughingstock? That he could still love such a woman?
It was over. He was just too honorable to admit it.
After he left to deliver the unwelcome news to his partners, she’d come up here. She didn’t want to be subjected to the dowager’s accusing looks. Nor did she feel up to the company of the Carlisles, whose kindness and compassion only made her feel worse.
A knock sounded, and Lisette entered. “I’m sorry to disturb you, my lady, but a letter came.”
Premonition slithered over Bea’s nape when she saw the note was addressed from her estate. She quickly broke the seal. Air rushed from her lungs as she read the brief sentences, written in her butler’s untidy hand.
“What is it, my lady?” Lisette asked with concern.
“There’s been another fire,” Bea said numbly. “The Ellerbys’ cottage burned down…and Mrs. Ellerby has been badly hurt.”
“Mon dieu,” the maid gasped.
This is my fault.Bea’s chest constricted, heat welling behind her eyes as she thought of the hurt she’d caused.Mrs. Ellerby was injured because of me. I should have been protecting her. I should have stayed at Camden Manor where I belong.
Instead, she’d allowed herself to be seduced by an impossible dream. She’d abandoned safety and good sense to go after happiness when sheknewit could not last.
She shot up from the window seat. “I must get back.”
“But my lady, is it safe? Surely Mr. Murray would not allow it.”
The maid was right: Wick wouldn’t permit her to go alone. But hadn’t she caused him enough trouble? He had his failing company, a mob of angry investors to deal with…and Bea realized what she had to do. What she should have done from the very start.
I am responsible for my own affairs. The only one who controls my future is me.
Her mistake had been forgetting that. When things fell apart, she had to count on herself to pick up the pieces. Determination filled her, momentarily blocking out the pain.
“We’ll leave without his knowledge.” She paced as she plotted. “Who is in the house presently?”
“The pair of guards at the front of the house. And the servants,” Lisette said uncertainly. “Lord and Lady Carlisle took the dowager out shopping.”
Knowing Violet and Richard, they’d removed the dowager from the premises for Bea’s benefit as much as their mama’s. She was grateful for their consideration…for more reasons than one.
