Edenbrooke (22 page)

In my distracted wanderings, I ended up on the third floor and stopped in front of the paintings there. Perhaps if I had something beautiful to occupy my mind, I would be able to push aside the sick feeling that roiled within me.

I had examined only a few of the landscapes, however, when I realized I was hearing an odd noise. It sounded like the clang of metal on metal, and it gradually pulled me from my concentration until curiosity drove me to explore the source. I followed the sound until I came to the room I had seen once before, on my tour of the house.

The fencing room. The door was slightly ajar, and I could look in without being seen. The sight that greeted me caused my heart to leap into my throat. It was Philip in his breeches and shirt, fencing with William. Philip looked lithe and strong and graceful and powerful. My throat went dry, and I stood still, afraid to make a noise, unable to tear my eyes away. He drove William hard against the wall, but William held him off, foil against foil.

“Rein it in, Philip. I’d rather not be injured.”

Philip stepped back and muttered, “Sorry.” As he turned, I saw his face clearly for the first time and caught my breath. I had never imagined he could look so impassioned. He looked as if he had a fire burning within him, and that if he ever unleashed it, it would consume everyone around him.

“I assume this mood has something to do with your . . . assignment,” William said, seeming to put stress on the last word. He looked amused.

“You know it does,” Philip said curtly.

“Is it really that bad?” William was definitely amused.

Philip raked a hand through his hair. “Worse than ever. I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate it.” William chuckled and Philip scowled at him. “You find this humorous, I see.”

“After all the women you’ve run away from, yes, I do find this humorous.”

Philip did not smile in return, though. I suddenly wondered if it was appropriate for me to listen to their conversation. How embarrassing if they were to catch me listening outside the door! I was about to back up and try to escape undetected when William spoke.

“Her grandmother arranged the visit, didn’t she? Why can’t you just send her back to Bath?”

I froze at his words. They were talking about me!

“I would if it were possible,” Philip said. “Anything would be better than having her here. But it’s out of the question. Her grandmother was very clear on that point—she doesn’t want her in Bath.” He sighed. “I want nothing more than to be rid of my responsibility toward her, and yet she has nowhere else to go.”

My heart pounded so hard it hurt.

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” William said. “Perhaps her father will come back while we’re gone and take her home. Then all of this will be resolved easily.”

“I wish you were right, but I doubt it.” Philip tapped his boot with his sword. “He has stayed away for more than a year now, and is unlikely to return any time soon.”

“Then it looks like you will have to suffer it out.” William grinned and lifted his foil. “Just try not to take out your frustration on me.”

Philip muttered something that I couldn’t hear, giving William a dark look. William just laughed.

As they began to fence again, I stepped back and turned numbly from the door. I walked slowly, very slowly, down the hall, around the corner, down the stairs, and to my bedchamber.

I closed the door and crossed the room to look out the window, fighting to keep from my heart the truth that had been thrust upon me. I may as well have been trying to blot out the sun. There was no escape from being unwanted. And that was the truth that struck at me the most deeply. Nobody wanted me—not my father or my grandmother or the Wyndhams. Not Louisa. Maybe not even Cecily. And certainly not Philip.

I had grown accustomed to my father’s abandonment. And I had suspected that my grandmother had not welcomed being responsible for me. But I had never doubted Philip’s friendship—not since that day we had spent together in the library. I had felt so sure of it, convinced that not even his horrid flirting could diminish the strength of the bond I felt between us.

Now, to discover that I had been wrong about everything—about Philip’s character as well as his regard for me—was a blow so great that I reeled from it. Philip was not a gentleman, and he was not my friend. It was all an elaborate pretense. There was nothing real and nothing true for me to stand on.

I felt like I did the first time I had been thrown from a horse, with the reins yanked from my hands and the ground rushing up at me. Then, as now, there was nothing I could do to prevent the pain that was coming.

Chapter 19

I lay on my bed and stared at nothing. I tried to think of nothing as well, and wished that nothing could be all that was within and around me. Betsy interrupted my exercise in nothingness—the ultimate avoidance—by standing beside my bed, hands on hips.

“Aren’t you going to the ball tonight?”

“No.” I closed my eyes and tried to resume my state of nothingness.

But even with my eyes closed, I could feel her looking at me. Then she said, “You look just like my father did when his favorite dog died.”

I opened my eyes at that. “Excuse me?”

“It’s true. He had that same look about him—as if nothing else in the world could make up for what he had lost.” She sighed as she sat down on the bed. “And nothing ever did.”

I groaned. “Thank you, Betsy. That is very comforting.” I turned away from her, hoping she would leave me to my misery, but she reached out and touched my shoulder gently.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

I considered lying to her. I considered remaining silent. But the knowledge I had acquired today filled me to the brim, begging for an outlet. I had never confided in Betsy before, but she might be the closest thing to a friend I had here. And she might know something that would help me understand why I had been so fooled.

“I found out that my grandmother arranged for this visit—I wasn’t invited at all.” My voice caught on the words. I could not tell her the rest. I could not tell anyone the most shameful part of it: I wasn’t wanted here either.

“Oh, is that all?” she said breezily. “I could have told you that weeks ago.”

I sat up. “What? What do you mean?”

She picked something out of her teeth. “Well, I knew all along that your grandmother arranged this, but she threatened to cut out my tongue and eat it for breakfast if I did so much as breathe a word of it to you, and I don’t know what I would do without a tongue.”

I rolled my eyes. “Betsy, I am sure she would not have eaten it for breakfast. You know she only eats meat at dinner,” I muttered.

Betsy frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Well, yes, she did send you here, only she didn’t want you to know, so she arranged it with Lady Caroline. I’m not sure what part Miss Cecily played in it all, but my guess is Lady Caroline asked her to extend the invitation so you wouldn’t be suspicious. And truthfully, I think it was a famous plan, for Sir Philip would never have looked at you twice if you had met in London, and this has worked out very much to your advantage, if I may say so.”

“To my advantage? Why do you think that?” I couldn’t find anything advantageous about being thrust upon an unwilling host.

“Why, so that you could ensnare him, of course.”

My mouth fell open. “
Ensnare
Sir Philip?”

She swung her leg back and forth. “Yes. What other purpose could there be for this visit? And what luck that we happened to stop at that inn so that he was forced to come back!”

I could not keep myself from asking, “What do you mean, he was forced to come back?”

“Well, you know he was running away when we met up with him at the inn. Running away from you, I mean. Can you imagine, a grown man willing to spend months away from home just so he wouldn’t have to meet you? But look how fate managed everything, what with James getting shot and Sir Philip stopping for a bite to eat before continuing on his journey.” She looked at me, her expression turning sharp. “You must have known that.”

I shook my head. “I did not.”

“But what did you imagine he was doing at the inn that late at night?”

“I didn’t even think about it.”

“Well, from what I heard, as soon as he got word that you were coming, he flew out of here as if the devil himself were chasing him.”

As if the devil himself were chasing him. I recalled my conversation with Miss Grace—how she had assumed I was just another ambitious female with my cap set at Philip.

“Betsy, does everyone think I came here to . . . ensnare Sir Philip?”

She shrugged. “I imagine so. That’s the talk in the kitchen, at least.”

“I hope you set them straight.”

She bit her lip and looked away.

“Betsy!”

“Well, it would be difficult to make anyone believe otherwise, considering how you’ve been carrying on.”

I choked. “Carrying on? How have I been carrying on?”

“You know—spending so much time with him. And the way you look at him . . .”

“How do I look at him?” I asked as dread filled me.

She waved a hand in the air. “As if he . . . created happiness.”

I groaned and lay back on the bed, covering my face with my hands. I felt consumed by embarrassment. All of those hours I had spent with Philip in what I deemed to be innocent companionship had been noted and gossiped about by all the servants. They seemed like tainted hours now, and I regretted every one of them.

“What will you do about the ball?” Betsy asked.

“Will you give me a little time? Alone?”

“Of course.” She left the room quietly.

I stood and paced in front of the window. I had to leave. I couldn’t stay where I wasn’t wanted. But where could I go? My grandmother had sent me here, and it seemed she didn’t want me to return to Bath. My father hadn’t answered my last three letters. And I had no other close relatives that I could impose on.

In desperation, I sat at my writing desk and took out a piece of paper. My father might not want me any longer, but I had a right to call on him for help. I scrawled a message to him, worried that if I thought too much about my words, I would cry and ruin the letter.

Dear Papa,

I am sorry that my horse balked at the jump that morning. I am sorry that Mama’s horse threw a shoe and so she took mine instead. I have thought and thought and thought if I might have prevented the accident, but I cannot think how, and it is too late to undo it. What I must know is if you blame me, and if you still love me, and why you have abandoned me when I have needed you so much.

Love,

Marianne

I quickly folded the letter, biting my lip to keep myself from losing control of my emotions. If I started to cry now, I didn’t know how I would ever be able to stop.

I opened the drawer of the writing desk to retrieve the wax and seal, but my fingers froze as I spied the two letters tucked in the back of the drawer—Philip’s love letter and his note. I pulled them out, carefully unfolded them, and read each one. My heart ached and then throbbed with anger and resentment. How dare he deceive me? How dare he pretend to be my friend when all along he wanted to be rid of me?

I knew what I had to do. I tore the love letter in half, then half again, then half again. I could still see some words though:
torment, adore, desperately.
Each word stabbed me with the pain of betrayal. I ripped the words again and again, wishing I could obliterate every feeling in my heart as easily. I didn’t stop until there was nothing left but tiny, unreadable crumbs of paper. Then I did the same with his note, swept the pile of broken words into my hands, and threw them all into the fireplace.

When Betsy came back a few minutes later, I handed her the letter addressed to my father.

“Will you see that this gets mailed as soon as possible?”

She nodded and tucked the letter into her pocket. “But what about the ball?”

The ball. Philip would be at the ball, but so would Mr. Beaufort. Mr. Beaufort was interested in me. He might even want to marry me. I checked my heart again, and felt nothing from it. It was dull and empty—lifeless. That was exactly the way I wanted it.

“Yes, I am going. But I want to look more beautiful tonight than I ever have before. Are you up to the challenge?”

She clapped her hands. “Leave it to me. You will look ravishing, I am sure.”

I smiled grimly.

When I stood before the mirror after Betsy had finished with me, I studied myself with an objective eye. I wore the green silk gown, and I did not look like a very young girl anymore. Perhaps it was the hairstyle and the jewelry and the gown, but I thought it had just as much to do with the glint in my eye.

Betsy stood back to look at me, critically, from head to toe. She finally nodded with approval.

“You won’t even need to pinch your cheeks tonight,” she said. “They’re already rosy.”

I thanked her and pulled on my long gloves as I left my room and walked down the hall. I paused before I reached the stairs. Hiding in the shadows, I breathed deeply and tried to prepare myself mentally for what was coming. My only hope for success tonight was pinned on my being able to remain immune to Philip’s charm. I had to keep my heart shut away and silent. If he disassembled my defenses it was possible I might lose the dignity I was working so hard for. And then I might do something unpardonable, like cry in his presence or tell him that I knew he didn’t want me here.

Therefore, I built up my armor, chink by chink, against him. I repeated to myself all that I held against Philip. I thought of his many faults as I walked with careful dignity down the stairs. He lied, for one. He told me I was welcome here when I was not. He led me into a false sense of security by making me feel certain he was my friend, when all along he wanted to be rid of me.

He was arrogant, for another, if he thought I would come all this way in the hope of ensnaring a man I had never met. What an assumption! Did he think every woman who glanced his way was pining for him? Would sacrifice her dignity for the chance of securing him as her husband? Well, he was much mistaken, for I would never sacrifice anything for him.