“I hope you won’t be.”
She blinked at him, not comprehending.
“I came to apologize. On behalf of my brother,” the earl clarified.
“That isn’t necessary.” She shook her head vehemently. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have trespassed, shouldn’t have…have used things that weren’t mine?—”
“Be that as it may. You are not the only one to blame for what transpired.”
Twin furrows formed between his brows, as if he were conflicted about what he was to say next. Which was interesting, because he struck her as the sort of man who seldom doubted his own judgment.
Unlike Xenia, who doubted herself all the time. And, obviously, with good reason.
This is why you do not deserve good things. You ruin them. Ruin everything.
Misery settled like an anvil in her stomach. It felt heavy and inescapable. A reality that even “Pretend until it’s true” wouldn’t change.
“I don’t suppose my brother has mentioned anything about what happened. Before he came to Chuddums, I mean.”
“No, my lord,” she said blankly. “Why would he?”
Why would the earl think for a minute that Lord Ethan would talk to her about anything, let alone his past? She was just a servant. Not a very good one at that.
Disrespectful, idiotic, worthless.
Her fantasies about Lord Ethan only made her a bigger fool. Why would he have any interest in her? She had nothing to offer. The only follower she’d attracted was a fellow who’d used her to turn a profit. She’d thought she loved Tony, but for him, she’d merely been a means to an end.
“Right. Ethan’s not one to take anyone into his confidence. Even his own family…especiallyhis family.” The earl sighed. “And Brunswick and Valentine haven’t said anything?”
She furrowed her brow. “About what?”
Instead of answering, the earl rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, “That was an asinine question. Of course those two haven’t said anything. They’re loyal to a fault.”
“Beg pardon, my lord.” She was getting more and more confused. “I don’t understand what you are referring to. What haven’t Brunswick and Mr. Valentine told me?”
During a long pause, the earl seemed to arrive at a decision.
“It has to do with my brother’s past,” he said curtly. “With what happened to him.”
“What happened to Lord Ethan?” she asked.
Because really, who wouldn’t?
“If you want to know, you must ask him yourself,” the earl said.
“Blooming hell, you cannot bring up a topic and then just?—”
She slapped a hand over her mouth to halt the flow of words.You did not just swear at an earl and insult him.
Manderly cocked his head. “I suppose I deserved that. Yet I’m still not going to answer your question, Mrs. Wood. If you are curious and brave enough, which I have cause to believe you are, then you will stay and discover what you want to know yourself.”
She said nothing. She had no idea why the earl thought those things of her when she was just…herself. Nobody.
“If neither curiosity nor courage are sufficient enticement, then I hope this will be.”
Manderly removed an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat, placing it on her escritoire.
She didn’t need to look inside the envelope to know that it contained money.Of course he thinks my compliance can be bought.
