Chapter 17
“Tilly? Tilly, what happened?” Edith called from outside her door. She could hear Tilly sobbing into her pillows.
Pushing the door open, she could see the little girl crying hard into the bed, her little shoulders shaking.
“Tilly,” Edith began, going to sit on the bed. “Lord Hargrove is gone, you’re safe.”
Tilly shook her head, sniffling.
Edith’s brow creased with concern, and she gently rubbed Tilly’s back.
“Why are you crying?” she whispered.
“I-I-I went to see H-His Grace,” Tilly hiccupped.
Edith’s heart stopped. “What happened?” she asked.
Tilly shook her head.
“Please, talk to me—”
“He doesn’t want me!” Tilly blurted, pushing herself up. Her little eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were wet with tears.
“Don’t say that, Tilly. He cares about you very much.”
“No! He doesn’t!” Tilly shouted. “He doesn’t want me! He doesn’t want me here! He doesn’t need me!”
Edith was shocked by her outburst. She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. Tilly continued to sob.
“I’m here,” Edith whispered. “You’re safe.”
She felt her sleeves growing damp as Tilly sobbed into her. She rubbed Tilly’s back, trying to keep herself calm despite her racing heart.
Tilly eventually cried herself to sleep. Edith held her for a while longer before tucking her into bed. She watched the little girl for a few moments longer before exiting her chambers.
“How is she?” James asked as Edith stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
“She’s very upset,” Edith muttered.
“I am not surprised, what with tonight’s events,” James sighed. “Would you like me to stay, or would you prefer I leave?”
Edith thought about it for a moment. As helpful as James was, she also knew she needed to confront Laurence on her own.
“Go, get some rest. Laurence or I will reach out to you shortly,” she replied.
“All right.” James nodded. “If you need anything, do not hesitate.”
Edith watched as James descended the stairs and left. She took a long, deep breath.
Looking toward Laurence’s study, she knew he was in there. She could see the faint glow of the fire. It was like he was waiting for her to come and speak to him, rather than seeking her out. He knew if Tilly were hurt, Edith would be there.
For a moment, she debated going to bed, leaving it to the morning. Her mind filled with Tilly’s cries.
No, this cannot wait until morning.
“What did you say to her?!” Edith demanded as she stomped into his study.
Laurence stood in profile, looking down at the fire. His blue eyes glowed with intensity, but his expression was neutral. He didn’t even turn to look at her.
“Please leave,” he said coldly.
A shiver ran up her spine. He had not spoken like that to her in months. She had thought he was waiting for her, but if he wasn’t, why was he just standing there?
“No, Laurence. I’m not leaving until you explain to me exactly what you said!” she burst out. “You absolutely terrified poor Tilly. The girl cried herself to sleep.”
For a moment, she thought she saw him flinch. Then, she blinked, and he was back to his stately posture.
“She shouldn’t have come here,” he muttered.
“You shouldn’t have scolded her so harshly that she ran into her chambers crying!” Edith rebutted.
“She knew I was angry.”
“You should have controlled yourself!”
“Edith, enough,” he said, turning to walk away from her.
She grabbed his arm, forcing him to face her. His muscles flexed under her grip.
“Don’t you dare turn your back on me right now, Laurence!” she hissed.
“Let me go.”
“No!” she shouted. “You don’t get to turn your back on me right now!”
“She should never have been dragged into this world,” Laurence growled softly.
“So, the workhouse was better?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It was what you implied,” Edith snapped.
“I do not wish to argue with you.”
“What else could you possibly want at this moment? You shouted at Tilly, made her cry, and you don’t think that will affect me?”
“I knew it would affect you,” he replied. “But I do not want to argue about it. I want us to talk, like civilized adults.”
His tone put her teeth on edge. He had been cold before, but he was rarely condescending.
“Fine, let us talk,” she said, releasing her hold on him.
“Yes.” He pulled his arm away from her. “I caused you quite a problem tonight.”
“That was Lord Hargrove’s fault,” Edith said. “And it doesn’t explain—”
“I lost my temper with him, and then with Tilly. She came into my study, refused to leave, and I became angry with her,” he spoke over her.
“Tilly should not have been the focus of your ire,” Edith said.
“If she will not listen to me—”
“You aren’t angry at Tilly,” she interrupted him.
“What?”
“You’re angry at yourself that you lost control in the midst of an important event.”
Laurence scowled at her.
“But you can’t take that out on a child—”
His bitter laugh interrupted her. “You’re wrong.”
“What?”
“I am angry at her,” he said.
Edith looked at him, eyes wide with confusion and shock. She swallowed hard, taking in his features, trying to understand what he was saying.
“Why?”
“She came into my study,” he replied. “I told her to leave. She ignored me.”
“Laurence—”
“This was all a mistake,” he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face.
“Look, the event didn’t go as planned, but—”
“Not the event,” he snapped. “This.”
“This?”
“We…” He took a deep breath. “We were never supposed to be more than an arrangement.”
Edith’s heart stuttered, and her hands began to shake. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that we have taken this too far. Much too far.”
“Don’t say that, please,” she whispered.
“Edith—”
“No!” she snapped. “I’m not going to let you do this, Laurence.”
“We were just an arrangement,” he insisted. “We would all do well to remember that.”
“But we became something more!” she cried, her eyes stinging with tears. “You cannot do this.”
“I can.”
“Why are you doing this?” she choked out.
“You said it yourself—I lost control tonight.”
“You were defending yourself,” she assured him.
“I hurt Tilly.”
“You were angry; you can still apologize and make it up to her.”
“I could have hurt you again.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do,” he said, looking away from her. “This… this isn’t right, Edith. I never had any right to let you believe we could be anything more than our arrangement.”
“I didn’t just believe it; we are more than our arrangement!” she wept.
“No,” he said firmly.
“Yes!” she sobbed. “Laurence, I love you.”
Silence filled the space between them. His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes. She watched him swallow hard. Her vision blurred with tears that she tried to blink away.
“I know,” he whispered. “That is why I should never have let this go further.”
“We both—”
“I should never have allowed you to fall in love with me.”
Edith’s world tilted, and she felt dizzy. Her breath hitched.
“That’s not something either of us can control,” she whispered.
“But I didn’t stop you. I allowed you to fall for me. I should have been firmer. I should have pushed you away. I shouldn’t…” He hesitated. “I shouldn’t have let my base desires overpower me.”
Edith felt like she had been punched in the gut. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she made a noise like a small, injured animal.
“So, when we…”
“It was a mistake,” he said. “Each time, in bed, it was a mistake.”
“You can’t mean—”
“I do.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t be heartless, Laurence.”
“I’ve always been heartless.”
Her heart clenched painfully, and she could feel the sobs building in her throat. He didn’t look at her, his attention once again focused on the fire.
Edith was certain she was going to be sick. Every part of her body, mind, and soul felt used and discarded.
“You…” She swallowed hard. Her breathing was ragged. She could feel her chest shuddering with each breath.
Laurence stood frozen, statuesque.
“You’ve become exactly what they call you,” she finally whispered.
He didn’t say anything, the firelight flickering in his blue eyes. If he felt anything, his body language didn’t give it away.
“It is better this way,” he uttered.
Edith did not believe that for one second. She turned away, her eyes stinging, and ran out of his study. Storming down the hall, she returned to her chambers.
She slammed the door shut and threw herself on her bed, sobbing. Her sheets still smelled of the two of them from the nights they had spent together.
All the times they’d been intimate or had just fallen asleep together now felt hollow and meaningless.
Had he just been using me? Did he just need a warm body to occupy himself? Is he really that selfish?
Before, she would have said no and rebuked herself for thinking such things, but now? She didn’t know anymore.
When she had finally sobbed herself hoarse and her tears had dried, she slowly stood up. Walking over to her drawers, she opened the top one. Inside was the key to her door, which also worked on the door connecting the two rooms.
She held the cold metal in her hands. For a moment, she considered whether she really wanted to do what she was about to do. Then, without a word, she walked over to the door and slid the key into the lock.
It turned with a satisfying click.
She stepped back and looked at the door between their rooms, one she had thought would always remain open. She didn’t want him to have the option of coming to her if he was going to treat her so coldly.
Laurence had said it himself: it was better this way.
There was a time when Laurence had been accustomed to being a lonely man. Now, it felt uncomfortable. He would sit in his study, trying to work on the things his duchy needed, but his heart ached. It hadn’t stopped aching since he’d had that conversation with Edith three nights ago.