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The room was dark, much like the last time he discovered her during a ball. But this time, he could just make out her slight form near the window. Her head was bent, and her shoulders shook. Damnation! She was crying. Gads, he’d love nothing more than to see Rochester dragged behind his horse from Yorkshire to London. But that could wait. He had more important things to do first.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Pippy?”
She didn’t turn around, but her body stiffened when he spoke. Lud. Why did his voice not bring her comfort?
He walked over to her and stood beside her, uncertain what he should do.
While he rarely sought his father’s opinion on love—or on anything for that matter—in that moment he recalled his father comforting his mother when they’d received word of Julian’s death.
Freddie lifted his hand and placed it on Pippy’s back, rubbing small, light circles. “I thought I’d find you here.”
She shuddered. “You need not tell me,” she choked out.
His brow creased. “You know?”
“It wasn’t difficult to figure it out.” She nodded. “The scandal—” Her voice cracked with a cry. “I’ll pack my trunks and leave before dawn.”
Freddie nodded. “Yes, an early start is necessary. But we don’t leave until the day after tomorrow.” He didn’t know why she was worried about that already. He really thought she’d be more concerned about Rochester, the blackguard.
Finally, she turned and faced him. Even in the dim light of the fireplace, he could see the tear streaks on her cheeks. “It’s kind of you to offer. But if you’re to seek an annulment, I hardly think it proper to travel together.” She sniffed. “But then, I’ve come to expect nothing but kindness from you.”
“Wait,” Freddie said, taking a step back. “An annulment? Why the devil would you think I wanted that?”
“Someone mentioned it in the retiring room.” She sighed. “They seemed to believe it a forgone conclusion.”
“Lud, Pippy. I must insist you stop visiting that room,” he grumbled. “You hear nothing but gloom and doom. And rarely is it accurate.”
She turned away. “I don’t foresee myself being anywhere with a retiring room, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
He reached out and lightly gripped her upper arms, turning her toward him. “There has obviously been a misunderstanding. Our marriage is not to be annulled.”
She opened her mouth, but he placed his finger on her lips.
“Please, let me speak.” Where did he begin? He’d learned so much in the last half hour. It was difficult to know what to mention first. Perhaps he should start with the most pressing news. “You are not married to Mr. Rochester.”
“I know.” She nodded, but Freddie saw no sense of relief in her eyes. “But it does not follow that no one else believes it. Besides, he has papers.”
“Forgeries.” He shook his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself.” He slid his hands down her arms and interlaced their fingers. “My father is sorting it all as we speak.” He glanced at the clock. “Indeed, it should nearly be done by now.”
She squinted at him. “Your father?” She released a sort of snort-cry. “I’m certain he’s relieved by all this. He’ll have what he wanted from the beginning.”
“Indeed, he’s not happy,” Freddie said. “Not in the least. I’ve never seen him admit fault—it’s how I knew he was in earnest.”
She watched him. “It was his fault?”
“Let me start at the beginning.” Freddie sighed, and he tugged her toward the couch.
She pulled out of his grip.
That was not what he wanted, so he stayed where he was and took back her hands. “It seems my father enlisted the aid of Mr. Rochester, hoping to secure an annulment for me. The two met in the village—that’s why he missed decorating the entry hall. Their plan was simple. Mr. Rochester would forge a marriage certificate and claim you as his wife.”
Pippy sucked in a breath through her nose and lifted her little finger to her lips.
“It was the only way an annulment was possible—if you had committed bigamy.”
She shook her head. “Lawks, did your father truly believe me so terrible—hate me so much as that?”
Freddie squeezed her hands. “It doesn’t matter what he believed.”
