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Ina drew out the chair at the writing desk, laid out a piece of heavy cotton writing paper, and began to write the letter that would end everything, because she owed him that much.

Dear Gavin,

I was foolish to believe

A soft knock announced Ruth’s arrival.

“Enter,” Ina called.

“You rang for me, ma’am?” said Ruth, dipping into a curtsy as soon as she was over the threshold.

Ina put down her pen and prepared herself to say the words she knew she must.

“Ruth, important business calls me back to Edinburgh.” Her voice trembled, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from losing control. “Please pack my traveling bag and see that you’re ready to leave after Sir Gavin has gone out for his morning business with Mr. Chase.”

The maid hesitated a split second, but whatever she thought of the request, she was too well trained to comment on it.

“Shall I instruct Mr. Harper to pack the trunks as well?” Ruth asked.

Ina shook her head. “The baronet will have need of them for a while longer, because he intends to stay here.”

She’d leave him and spare them both the indignity and hurt that would come with the dissolution of their marriage. If he wished to petition for divorce, she’d give it to him even though it would rip her apart inside.

“Harper is the only one who needs to know. He’ll send a footman ahead to purchase our tickets for the 10:31 train,” Ina said, finishing her instructions.

“Very good, ma’am.”

Ruth bobbed a curtsy and beat a quick retreat for Ina’s dressing room to pull out the small valise that would serve as her traveling bag.

It was done. There would be no going back now. Ina had chosen her fate and, pain her though it might, she knew she was right.

Hours later, the house was quiet. Ina had stayed in her room, asking Ruth to arrange for a breakfast tray to be prepared for her. She’d written pages and pages to Gavin, pouring out every bit of her regret and sorrow. Just as quickly as she wrote them, however, she’d cast them into the fire. Words weren’t enough to apologize for what she was about to do.

I never understood . . .

I could never be the wife you wanted . . .

I’m sorry I never realized . . .

Finally, when the sun was well risen to shine down on the ornamental garden her room looked out over, she set her pen down, blotted the paper, and sealed it. It wasn’t enough, but her last draft would have to do.

She pushed away from her desk as Ruth let herself into the room.

“All is ready, Lady Barrett,” said Ruth.

Ina’s spine stiffened when she heard her married name. It would be a badge of shame she carried with her for the rest of her life. A reminder of what had been and what she’d lost.

“Was Harper able to secure tickets?” she asked.

“The footman will be waiting at the station with them,” her maid said.

“Then I suppose I should dress. Will you please help me?”

Ruth worked in silence, helping Ina shed her dressing gown and night rail before stepping into a soft chemise. On went layer after layer, the armor she donned before facing the world. As Ruth cinched her into her corset and the steel bones molded her form, she couldn’t help but feel that they were holding her up, equipping her for the tasks ahead.

A few minutes later, she had put on her black traveling dress, and Ruth was slipping the last of the many little buttons that ran along her back into place. Ina tugged at the gloves that covered her hands to her wrists and gathered what shreds of courage she had left. If she was going to do this, she needed to do it now.

“Mr. Harper said he’d order the carriage to be brought around,” said Ruth.