Page 159 of The Earl She Once Saved

Before she had finished the first page, Aunt Cordelia came in. She did not have her embroidery. Her shawl hung crookedly from one shoulder, and she shut the morning-room door herself rather than leave it to the footman.

“I have spoken to Mrs. Fenwick,” she announced.

Verity set down her pen. “Has she named the person who spoke to her?”

“No. I went to ask.” Cordelia came toward the table. “She told me what she has heard from others. Roland has been speaking of you.”

“You told me so last night.”

“I did not understand how often.” Her aunt’s voice shook. “He expresses concern wherever he goes. He says these years alone have placed too much upon you. If someone mentions the yard, he asks them to be patient with your temper. If they speak of the ball, he says your conduct has been strange, but that you have not been quite yourself.”

Verity looked toward the windows. Rain washed the gravel clean overnight. Two gardeners crossed the drive with their tools on their shoulders, going about work that had to be done whatever the county said of her.

“Mrs. Fenwick believes him?” she asked.

“She says it is only natural that a husband should worry.”

Aunt Cordelia pulled out a chair but did not sit. “Others are beginning to nod when he speaks, Verity. I heard it myself at Mrs. Fenwick’s. One woman said it must have taken a toll to run the estate as you have done. She said she had admired your strength, yet perhaps it was never a task a woman ought to bear.”

Verity knew the woman would believe she had paid a compliment. The work that kept people fed was now being offered as evidence that she had done herself harm.

“Henshaw knows what Roland threatened,” she said.

“He does. He is looking into what can be done.” Aunt Cordelia gripped the back of the chair. “Until then, I beg you to be careful. Keep away from Rafe. Give Roland nothing he can point to and give the county nothing it can repeat.”

Verity met her eyes. “Roland began this before I gave him any cause involving Rafe.”

“I know. I wish you would keep yourself beyond reproach all the same.”

“Was I beyond reproach when I paid the laborers from the last money I had? Or when I went to the sick tenants in the night?” Verity tried to keep her voice even. “There was always someone ready to say a countess ought not do those things.”

Aunt Cordelia’s eyes filled. “I am afraid he will send you away.”

The answer Verity prepared died before she spoke it. Her aunt stood before her without a lecture or a plan for restoring the county’s good opinion. She was frightened. Aunt Cordelia once believed Roland’s title would shelter Verity. She now knew what power it gave him. Her advice would leave Verity with no ally at her side, yet it came from love.

Verity rose and took her aunt’s hands. They felt cold.

“I will be careful,” she promised. “I will not hide from everyone who might help me.”

Aunt Cordelia held her fingers tightly. “I should never have urged you to marry him.”

It was the nearest she had come to saying it plainly. Verity wanted to hear Aunt those words for years. Hearing them now, when Cordelia could do nothing to take back what followed, hurt them both.

“You did not know what he would do,” Verity nodded.

“I should have looked more closely.”

A knock sounded at the door. Aunt Cordelia released her hands as Win entered. Her face told Verity that something else had happened.

“What is it?”

“Roland has dismissed Mr. Tunstall.”

Verity stared at her. Tunstall served in the house for more than twenty years, first as a footman and then as senior footman when age made the stairs harder on his knees. He stayed through the years when Verity could scarcely pay him, taking wages late without once making the younger servants aware of it.

“Without notice?” she asked.

“He was told to collect what is owed him and go today.”