Chapter Ten
Ava descended the stairs holding up the hem of Sarah’s elegant silver-gray cambric gown, which was several inches too long for her and a bit tight across the bodice even though the laces were loosened at the back.
She rounded the bend in the stairs and saw her brother and Jerome waiting for them in the entrance hall.
Her heart turned over at the sight of Jerome. He’d dressed and shaved. His hair, still damp, was slicked back, and he looked almost his usual elegant self. Except for his pallor and the dark circles under his eyes.
He was speaking to Rob, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying.
As if sensing her presence, he broke off and looked up.
The smile that spread across his face at the sight of her lifted the heaviness from his shoulders and her heart.
She lifted her skirts higher and ran down the remaining steps, trailed at a more sedate pace by Sarah.
“Jerome!” she said, coming to a stop before him, a hank of blonde curl coming loose from its pins and falling on her forehead.
She pushed it away and stared up at him yearningly.
He took her hand and kissed it formally, and she flushed, realizing that they were, of course, not alone.
Her brother was scowling at her, and she dropped a curtsy and resisted the urge to fling her arms around Jerome’s neck and kiss him.
“I will see you in three weeks,” he said, his intense blue eyes locking with hers.
“Three weeks?”
“I have to go to London.”
The countess is in London. A stab of jealous anxiety shook her usual confidence. As if sensing her attack of insecurity, he leaned down and kissed her cheek gently. “Go with Robert and Sarah. They will take care of you. I’ll see you soon.”
She swallowed and nodded. He escorted her to the door and down the steps to the waiting carriage. The rising sun was tinging the sky with pale bluish-gray and gold, chasing away the darkness. He handed her up into the carriage and stepped back.
She twisted to watch him until he was lost to her sight as the carriage pulled away down the drive.
*
London, Four Days Later
Jerome found the Countess of Esberry in her parlor writing letters. She looked up, startled at the announcement of his name. She dropped her pen and rose, a faint flush staining her cheeks.
“My lord, I did not look to see you again for some weeks. What has brought you back to London so quickly? Not some bad news, I hope?”
“I needed to see you.”
“Oh!” Her color deepened, and his heart sank further.
He was wretched and deeply embarrassed over this, but there was nothing for it except to tell her the truth and hope that he didn’t hurt her too much.
At best, she would be deeply insulted. At worst .
. . She waved him to a seat on the sofa and they both sat.
Gathering her composure, she said with commendable calm, “What is it?”
“I hope that I can rely on your discretion—”
“Of course,” she frowned and then, as if sensing his distress, she laid a hand on his and said softly again, “What is it?”
“I came to tell you that my circumstances have changed. I felt that after our previous conversation, I owed you nothing less than the truth and that I should deliver it in person.”
She nodded slowly, eyebrows raised.
He took a breath and plunged in. “The fact is, I am no longer free to follow through on my offer of marriage to you.” His face felt flaming hot. He’d not been this embarrassed or ashamed in years. Not since Charis.
“I—I see.” She swallowed visibly and looked down at her lap.
“I realize how insulting this is—I am sorrier than I can say to put you in this position—but through an unforeseen circumstance I find myself honor bound to offer the protection of my name to another lady.”
She looked up at that, her large, dark eyes scanned his face for something—he didn’t know what.
Her own expression had become quite blank.
As he had previously observed, Isabella Mortimer was good at masking her feelings.
His own heart lurched at what that suggested about her past. This woman wasn’t for him, but he found himself fervently wishing she would find a man who would love and care for her as she should be cared for.
“Do you love her?” she asked softly.
He closed his eyes. “God help me, yes.”
“When you spoke with me previously, I gather you did not believe that you had any hope?”
“That is correct. I believed her to be on the verge of contracting an alliance to another.”
“I see. Then I wish you every happiness, my lord.” Her voice was steady as she spoke.
He took her hand and kissed it, a sense of relief coursing through him. “You are more than gracious, my lady.”
He rose and bowed, and she rose and curtsied. He turned toward the door and then back to say, “I do fervently hope you will find the felicity you deserve, my dear Isabella, for you are truly an extraordinary woman. Thank you for your understanding.”
She smiled then and said softly, “I hope that Lady Ava knows how very fortunate she is.”
He flushed at the mention of Ava’s name and said roughly, “I am the one who is fortunate. Good day to you.” He left then, his heart considerably lighter than it had been prior to his visit.
Jerome went to his club in search of a meal.
He had been far too agitated to eat earlier.
He made his way to the dining room and found Emrys, Viscount Ashford, eating beefsteak and reading the paper.
The man hadn’t seen him yet, and he hesitated near the doorway, not sure if he wanted company and the questions that would inevitably come.
But Ashford looked up at that moment and smiled at him and the die was cast.
Emrys waved him over, and he crossed the room to the table under the window and drew out a chair.
“What are you doing here? Thought you were ruralizing in that vast pile of yours?”
“I had to come back to town,” he said cryptically, as a waiter came over at the viscount’s signal.
“Want a glass?” asked Ashford, indicating the bottle of Chambertin on the table.
“Thank you, yes.” The waiter produced a glass and poured for him, topping up Ashford’s glass as well. Jerome gave the man his order and braced himself for questions.
“Have anything to do with the rumors?” Emrys asked, cutting into his bloody steak.
In the act of raising his glass, Jerome lowered it and said hollowly, “What rumors?”
“About Lannister and Ava.”
“What?” Jerome’s heart jerked and skittered.
“I’d have said it was all nonsense if Rob hadn’t hared off last week, but both he and Sarah left town in a hell of a rush a week ago, and Ava hasn’t been seen since the night before that.
Silverly’s in a right state about it. And when it came out that Lannister was missing, too, people started speculating.
” Ashford caught the look on Jerome’s face and put down his fork. “You know something? What is it?”
Jerome closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. In a lowered voice he said, “I don’t know anything about Lannister, but I do know where Ava is. I know I can trust you with this. In fact, I’m surprised Rob hasn’t written to tell you already, but perhaps there hasn’t been time.”
Ashford nodded, picking up his glass and sipping it. The deep ruby liquid caught the light and glowed.
Jerome felt his face flushing as he said, “Ava got wind of my offer for the countess and—” He swallowed a mouthful of wine.
It was a heavy burgundy, woody and fragrant on the palate.
“She turned up at Ravenshaw in the middle of a thunderstorm. Rob and Sarah followed mere hours after. The long and the short of it is, we are to be married from The Castle in three weeks.” His heart beat rapidly as he waited for his friend’s reaction.
Emrys snorted. “Thank God! You finally saw sense.”
“Ah—what?”
Emrys resumed eating. “Well, you might have hoodwinked everyone else, but you didn’t fool me!
I saw the look in your eyes when Rob announced he’d secured the match for Ava with Haldane.
You were devastated. Not that I hadn’t seen you looking at her like a man starving to death before that.
Although,” he added, “I have to admit it was Annis that twigged me to it. A very observant woman, my wife.” He said this with a smug, affectionate smile.
“And she knows Ava better than anyone.” Being Ava’s former governess, that was understandable.
Jerome’s meal appeared just then, which gave him time to gather his thoughts a little. When the waiter had withdrawn, he leaned forward and said, “If you knew all this, why didn’t you say anything?”
Emrys shrugged a shoulder. “Not my place to interfere. Besides, I appreciated your scruples. We all knew Ava had an inclination for you when she was younger, but lately, it was harder to tell if that were still the case. And I knew Rob wouldn’t like it.
He favored Haldane, which on the face of it would be an excellent match for Ava.
We all thought so, you included.” He paused, took a sip of wine, and added, “Everyone except Ava, apparently.”
Jerome smiled wryly. “Yes. Rob seems reconciled now, though.”
“Good, I’d hate to be asked to act for him to put a bullet through you.”
“I suppose I’d have to ask Deo to be my second?” Jerome smiled wryly, knowing this was a joke to lighten the mood.
“Yes, sorry old chap, but Robert has a prior claim on me.”
Jerome nodded. He knew the bond between Rob and Ashford was a deep one. He cut into his beef pie and chewed thoughtfully.
“The countess turned you down in the end?” asked Ashford.
Jerome contemplated telling him the truth and decided the less anyone knew about that little complication, the better, and nodded.
“Good thing, as it turned out.”
“Yes.” Jerome sipped his wine.
Ashford laid his knife and fork on the plate and pushed it aside. Taking up his glass, he cradled it and said, “So Lannister’s absence from town was just a coincidence.”
“Must have been,” said Jerome.