How wrong he was.
If he was beginning to feel for her a fraction of what she felt for him, what happened was possibly all that mattered. It would either convince her to fight for him, or to let him go.
But when he returned that afternoon and she tried to raise the subject again, he asked her to leave it alone. His voice was firm and unyielding, informing her that pleading with him would give no results. Which meant she might have to ask someone else. So she tried her maid in the evening, asking the woman a few leading questions. None resulted in satisfying responses, however. The maid’s loyalty to Ravenworth was unfortunately impressively apparent. So was Radcliff’s and that of every other servant with whom she attempted to speak for the next three days.
Ravenworth himself stayed on his best behavior, entertaining her with cards and the occasional game of chess. He read from the book she’d found in the library when all she’d been wearing had been her nightgown. But as he did so, he kept his distance, remaining detached in a way she found thoroughly vexing. It felt like he was preparing himself for her departure, like he’d come to terms with the prospect of saying good bye and would not allow further emotional attachment to form between them.
“I think the road will be clear by this afternoon,” he said while he stared out of the window one morning. He’d been standing there for a long moment with his back turned toward her. “I will send a note to the Havishams letting them know you plan on joining them tonight.”
“So soon?” It was impossible for her not to sound disappointed.
Smiling wryly, he turned to face her. “Not soon enough, I expect, if you ask them. They will no doubt be pleased to have you in their midst and to know you are safe.”
“They’ll know I was here for a week if you do as you suggest.”
“Yes, but the plan I had of returning you to the main road and pointing you in the right direction so they might think your carriage was simply delayed went out the window when you sprained your ankle. I cannot in good conscience allow you to walk alone, even if you are feeling better.”
“So then…”
“You will simply have to tell your friend what happened. And if she fails to believe I made no attempt to seduce you, my servants have promised to inform her that you and I were never alone behind closed doors.”
“I suppose that is technically true.” Even if she hadn’t been properly dressed on one of those occasions. “In any case, Mrs. Havisham and I have known each other since we were little girls. I’m sure she would have no reason not to believe my account of the events that have taken place since my arrival.”
Giving her a blunt look that made her want to shake some hint of desire out of him, he crossed to the door and said, “On the contrary, she has every reason to suspect the worst.”
He was gone before she could question his comment, which prompted her to punch the mattress. “Ugh!” The man had developed an infuriating habit of saying something dramatic whenever he made his exit. And, once again, it made her wonder what he could have done to invite condemnation, because she’d seen no hint of the scoundrel he claimed to be. Not when he hadn’t even attempted to kiss her.
* * *
Seatedbehind his desk in his study, Bryce signed the missive he’d written and blotted the ink. He folded it and added his seal before taking it through to Radcliff. “Please have someone deliver this to Mrs. Havisham immediately.”
“Are you sure?” Radcliff asked. He stared down at the crisp paper Bryce held toward him.
“Yes. Miss Potter leaves today. I’ve already told her to pack.”
“What if—”
“There is no what if, Radcliff.”
He thrust the letter forward, forcing his butler to take it. Eve’s purpose was clear. She meant to marry a man who might return her and her sisters to their rightful positions within society. He was not that man and never would be. Love was not enough, and God help him, he did love her. He’d suspected it ever since he’d found her lying in the snow and a piece of his heart had shattered. He’d struggled against it since then, dreading the moment when she would leave him. But with each passing moment, his love for her had increased. Which was why he would do what was in her best interest and let her go.
“She is destined for better things than what I have to offer.”
The dubious look in Radcliff’s eyes said he did not believe an ounce of that. But it didn’t matter. The important thing was Bryce did what was right for Eve and gave her the chance to have the life she’d been dreaming of when fate had landed her on his doorstep. Which was why he flinched when the knocker rapped loudly against the front door. His heart almost ceased beating when Radcliff opened it to reveal the displeased expressions of Mr. and Mrs. Havisham, who’d apparently come looking for their guest.
5
“Where is she?” The petite woman who stood beside her much taller husband wore a militant look of determination. It forced Bryce to take a step back, allowing her to enter the foyer. She looked around, peering into every corner before returning her sharp glare to Bryce. “What have you done with Miss Potter?”
“Mrs. Havisham,” Bryce began, “Welcome to—”
“I know she must be here somewhere,” Mrs. Havisham insisted. “This past week we believed her coach might have been delayed on account of the weather, but then…” She leaned toward him, forcing him back another step. Bryce gave her husband a wary glance but found no help there since the woman continued to say, “My head groom, whom I’d sent out this afternoon to watch for an approaching coach, halted the exact same one my good friend, Miss Potter, apparently arrived on seven days ago. SEVEN days ago!” Her voice had risen to a screech.
Bryce took a deep breath and stiffened his spine before doing the one thing Mrs. Havisham probably did not expect him to do. He confessed with a succinct, “Yes. Miss Potter did indeed arrive here a week ago. By accident.”
Mrs. Havisham’s eyes went wide. “Accident?” she scoffed, while jutting her chin out. “I will have to listen to Miss Potter’s account before taking your word on that.”
It was a well-aimed volley, one which made Bryce bite his tongue in an effort to remain civil. He turned to Radcliff, whose solemn expression conveyed no hint of what he might be thinking about this turn of events. “Perhaps you can show Mr. Havisham through to the parlor and ask a maid to bring up some tea.” To Mrs. Havisham, he said, “In the meantime, allow me to show you to the guestroom where Miss Potter has been staying.” But before heading off, Bryce paused to consider Mr. Havisham, who still hadn’t uttered a word and added, “Feel free to partake of my liquor if you prefer stronger stuff than tea.”
