Brooke was in shock or she would have said something to him—congratulations, good-bye, something. She didn’t hate him, and they were well acquainted after spending two weeks together. But tears were just under the surface. A single word would have spilled them and she didn’t want to leave his house that way.
“I will send the coach back for your things. We’re not staying here another moment,” Harriet said on the way downstairs.
Gabriel was in the lower hall and smiled at Brooke, “Ah, the beautiful bride. But Lady Wolfe, why are you leaving?”
Before Brooke could reply, Harriet said angrily, “Don’t insult us by calling her that! She’s still a Whitworth.” Then Harriet snapped at the butler as he opened the front door for them, “Tell my daughter’s maid to pack everything of hers and be ready to depart within the hour. Make that fifteen minutes, so send some servants up to help her.”
Brooke still didn’t say a word. She ought to mention the mare Dominic had bought for her. Alfreda didn’t know about it, but another time would do. She needed to cry, to wash away what she was feeling, but not in front of Harriet. Her mother wouldn’t be the least bit sympathetic and was making a lot of scathing remarks about Anna Wolfe and Wolfes in general. She did seem angry about what had just happened.
Brooke was taken to another town house not far away, and Harriet did dispatch the coach right back to the Wolfe house before taking Brooke inside and upstairs. Her parents’ London house, she assumed. She wasn’t interested.
But passing an open doorway she heard, “Eh, what areyoudoing here, gel?”
Brooke paused to see her father propped up in his bed frowning at her, but her mother shooed her on. “Two doors down on the left is yours. I will join you in a moment.” Then Harriet said cheerfully as she entered Thomas’s room, “Our Brooke is going to have her Season after all!”
Brooke continued on to the room Harriet had pointed out and closed the door behind her. The tears came so fast she could only take a few steps before her vision blurred from them. She didn’t know how long she stood there, but the outpouring wasn’t washing away this grief.
When she felt loving arms around her, she turned toward them gratefully, sobbing, “Freda, he didn’t want—”
“Oh, my precious. He was supposed to fall deeply in love, not you.”
Brooke stepped back abruptly, shocked yet again. Comfort from her mother? She quickly wiped her eyes and turned aside. “I’ll be fine. I just wasn’t expecting to not be married today, and to listen to so much crowing... was one too many surprises.”
“You don’t have to explain. You thought he would be your husband, so you let yourself love him. Your jealousy last night suggested you did. But I was hopeful that you two could get past that and be happy.”
“I don’t understand. Youwantme to be happy?”
“Of course I do,” Harriet said softly.
Brooke didn’t believe it and got angry at herself that she wished she could. “Don’t pretend you loved me at this late date, Mother. Don’t you dare!”
“I warned you she felt neglected and unloved,” Alfreda said angrily as she entered the room.
Servants began following Alfreda in with Brooke’s trunks and were directed where to set them. Harriet’s expression had turned impatient over the interruption. Brooke turned away, trying to think of anything other than what had happened today.
But Alfreda wasn’t done scolding. “She went too many years without love, Harry. The times you paid attention to her when she was growing up and Robert and Thomas were away were too few and far between. She doesn’t remember how much love you gave her when she was a baby. She remembers none of it!”
Hearing her mother called Harry turned Brooke back around in surprise. She’d never heard Alfreda talk to her mother like this, as if the two of them had been best friends or confidantes for years. Alfreda looked as angry as she sounded as she pushed the last servant out and closed the door on them.
But Harriet was now livid at the condemnation she was getting from a servant. “Go!” Harriet pointed stiffly at the door.
Alfreda crossed her arms instead and blocked that door. “I’m not going. I’m making sure she gets told this time.” Then suddenly in a softer tone: “Our poppet is full grown, Harry. She doesn’t need protecting anymore.” Then more sternly: “And I’m releasing myself from my promise, so you tell her or I will.”
“This is the worst possible timing, Freda,” Harriet said in exasperation. “She’s got a broken heart.”
“She’s had one of those for nigh fifteen—”
“Enough!” Brooke snapped. “Either tell me what you’re arguing about or don’t, but stop acting like I’m not standing here listening to every word.”
The two older women only glared at each other for another moment before Harriet put an arm around Brooke’s shoulders and led her to a long sofa. She hadn’t noticed it or anything else about the room. But she sat down with her mother and waited, almost with bated breath. She had to fight again to keep the tears back, deeper ones, more familiar ones....
Harriet took Brooke’s hand and turned to face her. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I honestly thought you knew it, at least sensed it—”
“I—”
Harriet put a finger to Brooke’s lips. “Please don’t refute it again until I’ve finished. Robert was jealous of you when you were born, too jealous. I don’t know why he didn’t grow out of it. I gave him just as much attention as I gave you, but he didn’t like me giving you any. I didn’t know what he was doing, sneaking into your room late at night. When Alfreda discovered your bruises, she told me. I tried to have Robert sent away, but your father wouldn’t allow it, so I had to distance myself from you just to protect you. And he was always lurking around corners, that boy, watching, listening, almost as if he were trying to catch me in the lie. I hated that situation. You can’t imagine how much it hurt for me to pretend I didn’t care when I loved you so much.”
“You could have explained that to me.”
