“On your own?” Fielding sat up. “Where did you go?”
She kept the sheet tucked under her chin. “To the only place I knew and the only friend I had,” she said.
“Your aunt?”
“Yes and no. I went to the Guildhall Library. I had always spent so much time there; it was like a second home to me. Thea was there often, and we’d spoken on more than one occasion, but we didn’t really know each other. She caught me crying that day, and I told her the whole story. I was surprised to learn that she too, in some ways, had been turned out by her family. So we pooled our money and bought our home, and we’ve been there ever since.”
“You’ve lived on your own since you were but a child.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement spoken with a touch of awe and pity.
She did not want his pity. “I’ve done rather well for myself, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, you have,” he said. “So then Thea is not truly your aunt?”
“She is the only family I have.”
“Are you not angry?” he asked, his own voice full of anger on her behalf.
She could not lie. “Certainly I am. I think my sister is the most selfish creature in all of London. But I enjoy my life, my freedom. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t lament the opportunities I never had. The dancing and the courting. The chances I should have had to become someone’s wife.” She was quiet for a moment. “But I can’t blame them for everything. It was my mistake, my scandal. And had it not been that evening, it would have been another. You said yourself, I can’t keep my opinions to myself.”
She picked a piece of lint off the sheet. “I don’t suppose I would ever have gotten along well with proper society; they tend not to favor women who speak their minds.”
“True though that may be, you should have been given the opportunity. There are some men who admire women with thoughts of their own.”
She ignored the flip her heart made. He had said “some men”; it was not a personal admission.
He was quiet for a moment, then he said, “You and she favor each other, but the similarities are slight.”
She sat up. “Elena and I? How do you know?”
“I went to see Elena and her husband.”
“When?”
“Shortly after we arrived here at Max’s.” He smiled. “Evidently you have a niece who is rather similar to her aunt Esme and is causing quite a stir with her parents.”
She shook her head. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“I wanted them to know you were safe.”
She crawled from the bed and tossed her shift over her head. One by one, she gathered up the pieces of her clothing. Clutching it all to her chest, she faced him. “You had no right to do that.” Now they would know everything, all the trouble she’d caused. It was humiliating.
“Esme—”
But she didn’t wait to hear what he had to say.
CHAPTER 17
Esme waited until she’d heard the first stirrings before she opened the adjoining door to Thea’s room. She found Thea sitting bleary-eyed in the bed, talking to Horace.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you weigh two stone.” The cat turned his head for a better scratch. “But you do keep my legs warm, so I suppose I’ll let you stay.”
“Good morning,” Esme said from the doorway.
Thea smiled warmly. “Good morning, yourself. You’re up early.”
In truth she hadn’t slept much at all. She’d returned from Fielding’s bed sometime after three and hadn’t gotten any sleep after that. Truth be told, she wasn’t completely certain why she’d been so angry. She didn’t like him going behind her back, but she realized her anger was not truly with Fielding.
In fact, it was more humiliation she’d felt than fury. The idea of Elena and Raymond knowing about the kidnapping had Esme’s stomach in knots. They already believed the very worst of her; there was no need to confirm it or provide them additional fodder for judging her.
