Chapter 19 #2
Alcott chuckled. “You’ll get the same truth, just with a lot more sarcasm.”
With a weary sigh, Richard pushed to his feet, stretching his shoulders as though preparing for battle rather than a quiet return home. “I suppose I ought to head back,” he said, his tone dry. “It’s time I faced what I’ve been putting off… even if I dread every moment of it.”
Alcott stood as well, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. “I don’t envy you,” he replied, his tone turning sincere. “But I do wish you luck. You’re going to need it.”
“Thank you,” Richard said before turning towards the door, the weight of what awaited him pressing heavily on his shoulders.
Theodosia sat on the floor beside one of her trunks as she folded a gown with trembling fingers. Her wardrobe lay in scattered disarray, the contents of her life hastily thrown about the chamber in her attempt to leave before she lost her nerve. She couldn’t stay here. Not after what had happened.
She had to leave—needed to, if she hoped to preserve even a shred of her heart.
Last night, while waltzing beneath the glittering chandelier, she had realized with painful clarity that she had fallen in love with Richard.
It had stolen into her awareness like a thief in the night—subtle, inevitable.
However, no sooner had her heart acknowledged it than it had been shattered.
Richard had dismissed her so coldly, so swiftly, never once allowing her to explain the truth about her sister.
His anger had been cutting, his words sharper than any blade.
She blinked back the sting of fresh tears. She deserved better than to be so easily discarded.
A firm knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts.
“Enter,” she called, not even bothering to glance up.
The door creaked open and Olivia stepped inside, halting at the threshold as her eyes fell upon the chaos in the room. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice filled with confusion and rising alarm.
“I’m leaving,” Theodosia said simply, continuing to fold a chemise and tuck it beside her boots.
“Leaving?” Olivia echoed, walking farther into the room. “Why? What’s happened?”
Theodosia finally looked up. “I cannot stay under the same roof as your brother.”
Olivia lowered herself slowly onto the edge of the bed, frowning. “Did something happen last night?”
Theodosia let out a long, unsteady sigh. “Yes. It did.”
“Then tell me,” Olivia urged. “Please. Let me help fix it.”
“There’s no fixing this,” Theodosia said, rising to her feet. “Richard brought me to London under false pretenses. He made me believe I was needed as your companion when in reality—”
Olivia’s face fell. “He told you that?”
“No,” Theodosia replied. “Mr. Smith did.”
Color drained from Olivia’s cheeks. “You spoke with Luke?”
Theodosia nodded. “Last night. He came to… rescue me, I suppose. But there’s something you must know.”
Suspicion sparked in Olivia’s gaze. “You do know Luke. Even though you denied it.”
“I do,” Theodosia admitted. “But Luke isn’t who you think he is. The man you know as Mr. Smith is my sister, Lucinda.”
Olivia shot to her feet, her mouth falling open. “That’s… impossible. I would have known if Luke were a woman.”
“I’m sorry, but it is true,” she replied. “I will admit that she looked the part of a gentleman, but I would recognize my sister anywhere.”
Olivia pressed a hand to her forehead as though warding off a headache. “Did you know she was pretending to be a man?”
“Heavens, no,” Theodosia said. “I hardly see Lucinda, and we are not close. But I knew instantly when I saw her last night… despite the disguise.”
Olivia sank back onto the bed, shaking her head. “This is madness. Am I truly that gullible? How could I not have seen it?”
Theodosia stepped closer, her voice filled with remorse. “Lucinda admitted she married you for your dowry.”
“I thought you said your family had a profitable estate,” Olivia said.
“We do,” Theodosia replied. “But Lucinda receives only a small allowance, and I never quite understood how she managed. Now I know.”
Olivia stared at her, her expression a storm of disbelief and hurt. “Are you absolutely certain?”
“I am,” Theodosia responded. “I tried to tell Richard last night, but he wouldn’t let me speak. He was furious that I let her escape.”
“Did you?” Olivia asked, her voice strained.
“I tried to stop her,” Theodosia said, emotion cracking through her words. “I begged her to stay and confess, but she panicked and climbed out the window. I never imagined my sister could be so heartless.”
Olivia buried her face in her hands. “I’m ruined. Once the ton hears I married a woman, I’ll be a laughingstock.”
Theodosia placed a hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps, but at least you can have the marriage annulled. You could reclaim your dowry.”
“And what if Lucinda’s already spent it?” Olivia asked bitterly.
Theodosia didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
Olivia rose and began to pace the room. “Blast it, it all makes sense now. It was why Luke was so distant. Why he—she—never touched me. How easily she vanished without a trace.”
“I swear to you,” Theodosia said, “if I had known, I would have told you everything.”
“I believe you,” Olivia murmured, pausing in her steps. “But you still can’t leave.”
Theodosia offered a wan smile. “I must. Richard despises me now. He made that perfectly clear.”
“Then we’ll convince him otherwise. Together.”
“I don’t think he wants to be convinced. He’s already made his judgment.”
Olivia’s expression hardened. “My brother is a fool.”
“I’m not going to disagree,” Theodosia said with a small, sad laugh. “I hope to be on the mail coach by this afternoon. It is best if I leave, and quickly.”
“Best for whom?”
“Your brother thinks the worst of me. You should have heard the way he turned on me last night.”
Glancing towards the open wardrobe, Olivia asked, “You’re not taking your new gowns?”
Theodosia shook her head. “No. I don’t want reminders of this place. Or of him.”
Olivia’s voice dropped. “But what if there’s still hope?”
Theodosia turned away, her throat tightening so painfully it felt as though she could scarcely breathe. “There is no hope,” she responded, “at least not where Richard and I are concerned.”
“You care for him,” Olivia said, a statement rather than a question.
Theodosia felt the sting of tears pressing against her eyes and blinked them back furiously.
She would not cry now—not in front of Olivia, not when she still had so much packing left to do.
Those tears, the ones that threatened to undo her, would have to wait until she was alone. Until she was far, far away.
Olivia continued. “You’re giving up too soon. I know my brother. He may be stubborn and prideful, but he’s not unfeeling. He cares for you.”
“He threatened to send me to prison.” Her voice cracked slightly, but she steadied herself. “He was ready to call the constable.”
“Well... I never claimed my brother was a smart man.”
That drew a faint, fleeting smile from Theodosia. “Thank you,” she said. “For being my friend. I will always treasure the time I spent with you.”
“You were the best companion I ever had,” Olivia replied, her voice breaking.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and before either of them could speak, it opened to reveal Lady Wilton. Her expression was solemn, but her eyes held only compassion.
“The coach is waiting out front to take you home,” she said.
Theodosia turned towards her. “That won’t be necessary. I intend to take the mail coach back to my village.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Wilton replied, waving a dismissive hand. “We have a perfectly suitable coach already prepared. You shall take it.”
Theodosia hesitated. “Will Lord Wilton object?”
A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Lady Wilton’s lips. “Let me worry about my son.”
Olivia threw up her hands in exasperation. “Why are we even discussing this? Dosia can’t leave. She’s done nothing wrong!”
“I agree,” Lady Wilton said. “She told me everything this morning.”
“Then why aren’t you stopping her?” Olivia demanded. “Why aren’t you encouraging her to stay and make things right with Richard?”
“Because,” Lady Wilton said, turning to Theodosia, “it is her choice. And hers alone. We do not get to decide what she must endure.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Theodosia replied.
A kind smile came to Lady Wilton’s lips. “If you intend to leave, you should go soon—before Richard returns from the boxing club.”
Olivia groaned. “This is ridiculous! Why are you sneaking off like a thief in the night? You did nothing wrong.”
Theodosia returned to her trunk, folding one of her gowns. “Perhaps not. But Mr. Pritchett was right about one thing—I don’t belong in this world.”
Olivia’s eyes filled with pain. “You do. You belong with us. With me.”
“No. I was pretending. Pretending I fit in, pretending I mattered. But last night, Richard made it abundantly clear what he truly thinks of me.”
Olivia came beside her and began folding gowns with brisk efficiency. “This is a mistake, but I shall help you.”
“Duly noted,” Theodosia said, her voice tight.
A short while later, Theodosia descended the stairs, her blue traveling gown rustling softly as she walked behind the footmen carrying her trunks to the waiting coach. Her hair had been hastily pinned into a loose chignon and a bonnet was in her hand.
The main door opened suddenly, and Richard stepped into the entry hall, his cravat askew. His eyes fell immediately on the trunks—and then on her.
“Where do you think you are going?” he asked, his voice sharp with disbelief.
“I am going home, my lord.”
“Like hell you are,” he snapped, striding towards her. “You will remain here until you tell me the truth about Mr. Smith.”
Olivia’s voice echoed down from the top of the stairs. “Let her go, Richard. She told me everything and she is innocent.”
He scoffed. “And you believe that?”
“I do,” Olivia said firmly. “Once Theodosia leaves, I will explain everything to you. But you will not stop her.”
Theodosia made to move past him, but Richard reached out, his hand closing gently around her arm. “I’m sorry it came to this.”
She stilled, surprised by the sincerity in his tone, and turned to meet his gaze. “As am I.”
He let his hand fall away but remained close, his jaw clenched. “If only you had told me the truth from the start, we could have avoided this.”
“You don’t understand,” Theodosia began. “From the moment we met, you have been waiting for me to disappoint you. I tried to prove myself useful, to show you I wasn’t some scheming woman. And still, when it mattered most, you believed the worst.”
He grew silent. “Thank you for helping me with the accounts.”
Despite the ache in her chest, she offered him a small, resolute smile. “I do believe you’re a good man. Misguided. But not without decency.”
He bowed, stiffly, formally. “Safe travels, Miss Theodosia.”
She inclined her head and turned away, stepping out into the crisp morning air. The coach loomed ahead. She paused for a moment and looked back at the grand townhouse. It had once been so full of promise, but now, it was a reminder of what might have been.
With a quiet sigh, she climbed inside, ready to leave this chapter behind. Ready to return to a life that, while not extraordinary, was hers.
And if her heart felt a little heavier with each turn of the wheel, no one need ever know.