“I’m leaving for London now.”
“Return to your room and await Mr. Tilbury’s arrival.”
“Why aren’t you listening to me?”
“Because you’re acting foolish!” Her voice was a whip lashing out. It cut through skin so easily.
Tessa flinched. But she held her ground, too. “Have you ever loved me?”
Her mother scoffed. “I did not think you could get worse. If you mean to leave, Tessa, by all means,leave. You’re well-practiced in it.”
“I left because you would not allow me within these walls if I did not do as you pleased!”
“Daughters owe?—”
“We owe you nothing!” Tessa screamed. “Not if you do not love us!”
Her mother clutched her chest.
And Tessa dragged each new breath into her lungs, pushing down her rising rage.
“I hope you love Verity more than you have loved me. That’s all I’ve wanted from you. Love. But you…” Her valise was so heavy now, and outside the window, she saw movement in the woods across the road. Frederick. The Iveses wanted to help her be happy; they treated her with love. Her own mother…
“Duty.” The word seemed to choke her mother, and the stocking was a strangled clutch of wool in her clawed hands. “Only duty matters. It alone can keep you safe.”
“I want more than to be safe.” Tessa turned out of the parlor.
But her mother’s voice made her stop. “I do love you, Tessa.” Said so quietly, the words almost didn’t exist.
But Tessa had heard them, and she looked over hershoulder at her mother, tears flooding her eyes. “I will not stay.”
Her mother nodded, little bobs as small as her voice had been.
“I will write to Verity. Show her more love than you have me.”
Then she walked out of the house and across the road.
Frederick stepped out of the woods, hands in pockets. “I assume you need my help.”
“How long would you have waited?”
“As long as I needed to.”
She hugged him. “Thank you.”
“No need for that, Tess. Let’s just get you to London.”
Chapter Nineteen
Remmy had never worn anything more boring than the black-and-white ensemble he’d squeezed himself into for that night’s soliloquy. He’d tried to convince Kit all black was even more somber and thus more appropriate. He was, after all, mourning the death of his hard-won reputation. Kit had countered that the only way to subdue a reputation like his—won with whispers, fists, and skin—was to appear as staid as possible.
Thus the black. And the white. And his hair newly trimmed and coiffed into a fashionable style. No rings, no earring, no voluptuous ladies on his arm.
The only woman he wanted on his arm was Tessa, and he couldn’t help but take one more leap at having her.
Remmy stood on the stage of the Folly, the huge, heavy stage curtains hanging loose before him. Beyond those, the chaotic murmur of a large crowd. They’d all come. Every seat filled. For free.
For a good cause. Tonight he shed his reputation. And, hopefully, won Tessa back.
