It seemed her time was up. Whatever pleasure she’d found here in Mr. Berkly’s company this past month had come to an ugly end, and she had no one to blame for it but herself.
On leaden feet and with a hollowness that made her feel like an empty shell, she followed her father inside. He didn’t break his stride when the Winterly butler approached but continued straight past him.
“Sir,” the butler exclaimed.
Louise sent him an apologetic look while hurrying after her father who’d now burst into the parlor.
“What the hell do the two of you think you’re doing?” he demanded of Mr. and Mrs. Winterly, who were standing side by side before the fireplace.
Diana’s parents did not cower in response to the rude and angry outburst. Nor did they appear the least bit shocked. Rather, they looked prepared. Perhaps thanks to Mr. Berkly.
Shoulders back and heads held high, they faced the Earl of Grasmere with dignity.
“Your daughter came to us for help, presumably because you refused to provide it,” Mr. Winterly said.
Louise stared at the quietly reserved gentleman she’d gotten to know in recent weeks. There was a certain lethalness to the softly voiced criticism that outdid her father’s display of anger tenfold.
“It wasn’t your place to interfere,” Papa blustered.
“Perhaps not,” Mrs. Winterly said, “yet we were compelled to do so for ethical reasons.”
“Ethical reasons?” During the last half hour, Papa’s face had gone from pink to red to purple. It was rather alarming to watch.
“Would you want your wishes ignored?” Mrs. Winterly asked. “To have others dictate what’s best for you?”
“Of course not, but—”
“What if your father had treated you thus when you were her age?”
“He never needed to. My eyesight has always been perfect.”
“How fortunate you are,” Mrs. Winterly said.
Her husband crossed his arms. “One of my grandmothers had the same operation your daughter just went through. I knew the risk and the rate of success. I also believed it ought to be up to Lady Louise if she wished the procedure performed, seeing as she’s had her eyes couched on several occasions already without any lasting effect.”
“Go get your things, Louise,” Papa seethed. When she didn’t respond fast enough, he grabbed her arm with bruising force, and marched her toward the door. “Now!”
Ten minutes later, she was packed into the carriage with Hannah. No one spoke a word to each other during the ride back to London. It was the longest journey Louise had ever endured.
Intense disappointment spurred Marcus onward. Lord help him, he’d not been able to get away fast enough once he’d learned of Lady Louise’s deception. For weeks he’d sat by her bedside, chatting with her while his heart grew fonder. He’d believed they’d formed a friendship - an unbreakable bond of sorts on account of what they’d experienced together. Hell, he’d helped her flee the cruel clutches of her parents so she could make the choice he’d thought her entitled to.
Devil take her.
He gripped the reins and leaned into the wind as he raced back to London, adding distance between himself and the woman who’d filled his every thought since the moment he’d met her. He’d risked his career for her without even knowing.
Blast!
What irked him most was that he was fairly certain he would have acted no differently if he had known the truth. To be fair, she hadn’t owed him anything when they’d first met. But later…
He could not shake the feeling that she should have told him at some point during the last few days. She hadn’t though, which either meant she did not trust him or that she did not care, and it was this last option that ripped his heart in two more than anything else. And yet, she’d been prepared to blackmail her father in order to save him. That had to mean he mattered to her somewhat, or at the very least that she was willing to take responsibility for her actions.
Marcus winced. Lord only knew what she had on Grasmere. Whatever it was, Marcus was grateful for it, was grateful to her for thwarting the earl’s intention to seek revenge. He just couldn’t stay and listen to her apologize, couldn’t stand being near her for one more second after the make-believe world they’d created for themselves came tumbling down around them. Their transaction had been completed. No sense in dragging out the inevitable farewell, and with the lie she’d told him, he’d had the perfect excuse to walk away without looking back.
He tried not to think of her during the rest of his ride back to London. An impossible task at which he failed miserably. She was lodged in his brain and in his heart. The loss he felt at the memory of their parting a permanent ache in his chest.
So when he finally arrived at the rooms he rented on Craven Street near The Strand, he took half an hour to freshen up, then continued on to St. Agatha’s with the intention of burying himself in his work for the sake of distraction.
“I heard you’d returned,” Redding said when he came to find Marcus in his office some days later. “How did it go with Lady Louise?”
