Chapter 26
“I’m sorry,” Mary said, her tone sincere.
She rested a hand on Selina’s shoulder, a sisterly touch that did nothing to ease the pain.
It had taken all of Selina’s determination to leave the safe ignorance of her bedchamber when Mary had summoned her, and she still couldn’t decide if she wished she had stayed in that room, oblivious, or if it was better to have heard the truth.
“At least you know where you stand,” Mary said. “That’s not always true for gently bred ladies.”
Selina cleared her throat. “But he said he cared.”
“He also said he cared for revenge and that he intends to leave you childless,” Mary pointed out, muddling what Selina had actually heard through the half-open study door.
Was that really what Philip had said? Verbatim?
Selina tried to pluck that part of the conversation from her mind, but everything was too foggy, bogged down by the oppressive weight of too many emotions at once. None of them good.
“He will never have children, Lady Selina,” Mary insisted. “He would never perpetuate his father’s legacy. So, if motherhood is something you seek, I suggest you reconsider this marriage. But that’s none of my business.”
Selina leaned against the hallway wall, a good distance from the study. Her breath came in short pants, her heart feeling as if it were twisting in her chest.
Mary had promised proof, and Philip had admitted that he had seen an opportunity for revenge in all of this. Perhaps not in those exact words, but the sentiment had been there.
What am I to do?
Selina looked up at Mary and asked that very question.
The maid shrugged. “I’m not you, My Lady.
But if I were, I would run as far away from that man as I could.
” She shook her head. “He will tire of you, and you will have no one. Your friends, perhaps, until they, too, are married and are too busy for you. Without children, it will be a painful isolation here.”
Selina had never much thought about children, just as she had never much thought about marriage.
She had known it would be expected of her, but that was where her opinion ended.
Now, however, with the certainty in her heart that Philip would not want children, she found that she wanted them. Keenly.
What if he does tire of me? What if I am left entirely alone?
Everything had been such a thrilling rush, but what happened when that ebbed? She had allowed herself to be swept up in the excitement, forgetting Mary’s first warning that Philip had never been loyal to just one woman.
Why would she, of all people, be any different? She was nothing special.
“Excuse me,” she whispered as she pushed past the maid and hurried toward escape.
Pushing through the nearest door to the outside world, a blustery wind almost knocked her back into the manor. The scent of rain clung to the air, oddly metallic, but she didn’t care. Nor did she pause to fetch her cloak as she stumbled out.
It should have been a glorious sunset, but the bruised rainclouds masked its shine, the estate as gray and gloomy as her mind.
She began to walk with no direction, passing through the walled gardens, and further still to the wilder lawns beyond. From there, she found her way to the lake, the grass dampening the hem of her skirts.
“I was so happy,” she hissed at the rippling waters. “Why didn’t I just stay in my rooms? Why did I have to hear all of that?”
She cursed herself for ruining her own peace and kicked a pebble on the lakeshore, watching through blurry eyes as it arched and struck the water. She kicked another for good measure, but it did little to ease her troubles.
There would be no one at Barlow House. Perhaps I could go there to clear my head for a few days.
Her family was here, ready for the wedding that she was no longer certain about. She could at least have a day to herself before someone thought to look for her there. A day to decide if a childless future, and possibly a loveless one, would be enough for her.
Orienting herself as the first patter of rain began to fall, she picked up her pace along the lake’s edge.
But why should I trust Mary? She has every reason to hate me, she tried to tell herself as she cut through the woods, following a faint gravel trail that she hoped would lead her to the stables. Then again, I heard Philip with my own ears.
The ceaseless back and forth would surely drive her mad. Yes, London was the best possible place for her. She could not hope to get her thoughts in order while she was here, with Philip nearby, his admission ringing in her head.
By the time she emerged from the woods and saw the sloping roof of the stables, the rain was no longer spitting but pouring.
Staring at the slick slates, her hair plastered to her face and soaked to the skin, Selina was rather dreading the idea of riding back to London on her own. The rain would not let up anytime soon, and though she was not the worst rider, she had never ridden in such weather before.
What if I forget the way?
“Just ask for a carriage and discretion,” she muttered to herself. “Everyone will be asleep soon if they are not already preparing for bed. They won’t know I have left until morning.”
She shook off her doubt. Chin tucked to her chest, a futile hand covering her face from the deluge, she was about to set off for the stables when she heard hoofbeats.
A chestnut gelding came through the trees, a short distance from where she stood. Between the driving rain and the top hat worn by the rider, she couldn’t make out their identity.
It would somewhat thwart her plans if one of the guests were to see her, but she realized it was already too late as the horse and rider approached.
“Lady Selina?” The voice was familiar.
“Lord Ramsbury?” She squinted up at him. “What are you doing out in this rain?”
“I might ask you the same question,” he replied, hopping down from the saddle, water dripping from the rim of his top hat. “Come, allow me to escort you back before you catch your death. We can ride; it will be quicker.”
Selina pulled back a half step. “I am quite all right.”
He peered at her, concern in his eyes. “You do not seem all right, My Lady. Even if you were not walking alone in terrible weather, I would know it from that expression on your face.” He paused, gently reaching out to touch her arm. “What is wrong, My Lady?”
Of course, she was supposed to be joyful. It would soon be her wedding day. All of the preparations were underway, she had chosen her gown, and all of the guests were looking forward to it. She should have been with her friends, celebrating her impending nuptials.
Would things have been simpler if I had stayed betrothed to you?
It was not a question she wanted to be asking herself when she had been so utterly content just this afternoon.
In her books, there were warnings not to mistake seduction for love. Yet it appeared that she had fallen into the trap anyway.
“Lady Selina?” Lord Ramsbury prompted. “What is the matter? Why do you look so sad?”
She had thought that the rain was doing a fair job of hiding her tears, but apparently not. Maybe her sadness was simply radiating out of her, like joy should have been.
“It is nothing,” she mumbled.
“It is not nothing if it has brought you out into the rain like this,” he countered. “Tell me, Lady Selina. You can trust me with your woes, I promise.”
She heard the sincerity in his voice and, meeting his worried gaze, decided to give just enough of the truth away. Perhaps it would alleviate some of the weight on her shoulders.
“I was… recently informed of some things,” she replied haltingly. “Bad things. About my betrothed. I wanted to walk to clear my head, but then it began to rain, and I… I thought I might take refuge in the stables.”
She left out the part about escaping to London. All she had to do was persuade Lord Ramsbury to leave her be, and it could still be done.
“One cannot always outpace one’s troubles,” Lord Ramsbury said after a moment. “I think I know why you are here, so close to the stables, but I must say that it would be unwise. If His Grace has done something awful, then you should not be the one to leave.”
Selina chewed her lip in consternation. He made an excellent point. It was at least a few hours’ ride to London, maybe less if she did not have to keep stopping to check her direction, and it would soon be dark. Anything might happen to her on the country roads.
In her beloved books, highwaymen were not something to be feared but a thrill to stoke a fire in the blood. In real life, however, she knew they were a very real and not at all pleasant danger.
“Have you confronted him about what you heard?” Lord Ramsbury asked.
Grimacing, Selina shook her head.
“In that case, I think it prudent that you speak with him before you do anything rash,” Lord Ramsbury said with a smile. “At the very least, he ought to know that you are safe and well. Whatever he has done, he likely doesn’t deserve the punishment of fretting over your whereabouts.”
“No… no, I suppose you are right.”
Selina had not even thought of that; she had only thought of disappearing. And it would not just be Philip who worried about her, but her mother, her friends, the Dowager Duchess…
It would be terribly selfish, in fact, for her to run without telling a soul.
“I should return,” she said quietly. “I should return and speak to Philip immediately.”
Yes, she knew what she had heard, and she had some additional doubts thanks to Mary’s parting words, but should she not give Philip the opportunity to explain himself? Hear it from him directly before she decided her fate, one way or the other?
“I will take you back,” Lord Ramsbury offered, gesturing to his calm horse. “It will be quicker.”
Selina hesitated. “I suppose it is rather far, but should you not get your horse into a stall, out of the wet and cold?”
“He is a sturdy beast,” Lord Ramsbury replied. “Besides, I could not possibly do such a thing while you are still out here, also in the wet and cold. Come, let me put things right. It is the very least that I can do.”
Selina took a step toward the horse. “But why are you out here?”
“I was weary of the company in the drawing room,” he explained. “At home, I often ride after dinner. Had I known the weather would be so bad, I might have restricted myself to a constitutional in the gardens.”
“So, no one has noticed my absence?”
He tilted his head from side to side. “I think your friends were just beginning to search the manor for you when I left. I misunderstood, thinking it must be some game or other, so I am even more glad that I found you.” He paused.
“I should hate for anyone to think I did not care for your whereabouts. No matter what has transpired between us, Lady Selina, you are still a friend to me.”
She would not have gone that far, considering him more of an acquaintance, but she was grateful for his kindness. Especially since she was just beginning to shiver.
“Very well,” she said with a smile, reaching for the saddle and pulling herself up. “Let us return to the warmth as quickly as possible.”
To her slight surprise, Lord Ramsbury climbed up behind her, his arms forming a protective barrier around her as he grabbed the reins, turned the horse around, and set off through the trees she had just come through.
The fastest path, no doubt.