“It cannot be so bad.” Elizabeth had lost some of the humor in her tone and grew serious. “I will not push. I thought it would be an interesting story but it clearly distresses you.”
Blythe took a deep breath and sighed.
Those secrets weighed on her but Blythe hadn’t realized just how much until she saw Orlando.
The ache, longing, wishes…the guilt, all returned to her in the carriage.
Did she dare tell Elizabeth the whole of it?
It would be nice to confide in someone that she could trust. Maybe the perspective of someone who was not there might help her truly lay the past to rest.
She certainly could not have told her brother after she returned from the Continent, or anyone else for that matter. But the one thing that she had come to realize from the other widows at Matron Manor was that none of them judged. They listened, held confidences and, when asked, offered solutions or support.
Except, confiding in her friend would reflect poorly on John.
Was it fair to tarnish his reputation now that he was dead and had no means in which to defend himself?
Then again, did she really owe him anything after what he had done to her?
Blythe turned to face her friend. “What I tell you can never leave this room and stays between the two of us. Promise me.”
“Of course, Blythe. Your secrets will always be safe with me.”
Orlando would have liked to have left the Venetian Breakfast after Blythe had made her exit, but he could not. The celebration was for his brother, therefore, he had to remain. However, his mind was not on the newlywed couple, or anyone else for that matter. Instead, he was remembering an earlier time—especially those last nights he and Blythe had shared in Brussels.
But more importantly, he wanted to know why she left without a goodbye.
He'd been stunned, then angry.
Had he meant so little to her. While he was falling in love with a married woman—a woman forbidden to him, she had been nothing more than a friend.
Of course, he had never told her. That would have been wrong. But he thought she understood when he said that he was not fine if he did not see her.
Blythe had told him that she was not fine if she did not see him.
Had that had deeper meaning for him than it had for her?
Orlando needed to know, and he would find out.
More importantly, he still loved her.
Could he win her now?
Chapter Seventeen
“I was one of the many women with important and titled fathers who foolishly fell in love and believed the honeyed words of a scoundrel who was more interested in what my father, the duke, could provide,” Blythe began before she returned to the settee.
Hers was not an unusual tale.
“I am sorry, Blythe.”
She dismissed Elizabeth’s’ concern with a wave of her hand.
She then told her friend about how she had followed the drum and how John made demands of her father and his anger at the realization that he would not gain what he hoped for and that marrying her was a mistake.
Elizabeth gasped. “He told you that?”
“It was worse,” she clarified. “He was done with me.”
