Chapter Twenty-Six
The next morning, Victoria awoke with a throbbing head. Periods of fitful sleep and tears had plagued her night, and now she felt both hollowed out and as if someone had placed a leaden weight in her chest. What an off-putting juxtaposition.
She was grateful that there was not so much as a raised brow when she requested her maid assist her in donning her navy-blue traveling dress and serviceable brown leather half-boots; nor was there a question when she requested to have her necessities packed away.
She’d already decided that she would send for the rest of her things when she sorted out where she would be residing.
How tempting it was for her to consider fleeing back across the ocean and pretending her marriage had never happened.
She knew it would be the option Luke and her father would push for.
They would believe only they could provide her with the care and comfort she required during such a trying time; however, Victoria wasn’t so certain it was a viable option.
According to the law, she was a married woman.
She may have married a scoundrel, but there was no denying the validity of their union.
And, rather surprisingly, the thought of leaving him created the most confusing maelstrom of emotions to collide and toss themselves around inside her chest. Just when she’d believed her eyes too dry to form any tears, they began to burn anew.
The maid silently procured a cool compress for Victoria’s puffy eyes from the nearby washbasin, which Victoria gladly accepted.
Her cheeks were chapped from the salt of her dried tears, and they stung beneath the compress.
It was a bracing sensation, and one she was grateful for because the next part of what she needed to do might just be the hardest.
She needed to say goodbye to the children.
Though it would be agonizing, her conscience would not allow her to disappear without facing them.
When she was fully dressed and reasonably sure that her appearance was not as haggard as she felt, she strode down the hallway to the children’s room.
Nan and the children all greeted her with smiles, but the older woman’s wavered when she read the weariness in Victoria’s expression.
It likely had not escaped her notice that she was dressed for travel.
Victoria prayed Nan would not question her, because she did not think she could take it.
Instead, she held her arms out for Faith.
Nan handed the child over without hesitation and continued her task of brushing through May’s tangled mane.
Victoria kissed and cuddled the babbling infant, committing to memory her soft skin and sweet, warm scent.
Finally, there was roundness in her cheeks and color to her petal-soft skin.
Her eyes were bright and glittering with intelligence, and she clapped her little hands together in joy when Victoria tickled her tummy. How she would miss this.
Next came May. The toddler was not one for prolonged embraces, but Victoria played it off as a game and got nearly as much of a snuggle as she hoped.
The child was far more interested in asking Victoria’s opinion on which dress her doll should wear that day.
After spending several minutes deciding between a peach and a green gown, May was satisfied and skipped off to dress her doll.
Victoria turned to the last child in the room.
She’d known Dominic was going to be the most difficult because he, at least, would know what leaving meant.
It would do him an injustice if she were to pretend nothing was wrong; it would be worse to lie to him and tell him when she would return when she had no idea when or if she would ever do so.
She doubted Rafe would allow her to see the children if he was upset or humiliated by her flight from The Cottage.
Of course, like Nan, the boy had sensed something was amiss the moment Victoria had entered the room.
He might not suspect what the cause of it was—she didn’t doubt Nan was certain it was marital troubles—but he was a sensitive lad.
Even if he tried to hide it behind bluster and bravado, she knew he felt things very deeply, and this was why he’d taken the loss of his parents so hard.
Victoria hoped he would fare better after she left, since she’d only been a part of his life a short time.
Already, though he watched her with a sullen expression on his face, his arms crossed over his narrow chest.
Heedless of creasing her skirts, Victoria knelt on the floor beside him. Her fingers itched to hold him, but she had to wait until he was ready. If she moved too quickly, he might very well bolt.
“Dominic,” she said softly and then waited for him to meet her eyes. “I am leaving for a while, but I could not leave without saying goodbye to you first.”
“When will you be back?” he asked warily.
“I am unsure.”
“Why are you leaving?”
Her heart skipped. “It is…complicated. But you must know that I would not be doing it if I did not feel it was for the best.”
“Was Uncle Rafe mean to you? Is that why you are crying?”
Victoria hadn’t realized she’d resumed crying until Dominic questioned her about it.
She brushed her fingertips across her cheek to see that the grey leather of her glove was stained with dark smudges of tears.
She shook her head, unwilling to make Rafe into a villain in his nephew’s eyes, no matter how he had shattered her heart.
The boy needed a hero. “I am crying because I will miss you terribly,” she finally said, her voice watery and thin. “May I embrace you before I leave?”
Three heartbeats of hesitation passed before Dominic walked stiffly into her outstretched arms. His little body buzzed with anger until she wrapped herself around him; he buried his face in her shoulder and twisted his fists tightly in her skirts.
He felt so small and fragile, so much more delicate than he pretended to be.
Dominic longed to be grown and he emulated everything his uncle did, but the fact of the matter was, he was still a child.
He still needed love and security. He still needed guidance and stability.
Victoria felt guilty for shaking the foundations of his world all over again, but she had to do what was right for herself.
She would be of no use to the children if she was miserable and heartsick.
Victoria held Dominic as long as she could. It pained her to step away, but she knew she needed to. “I hope to see you very soon,” she said truthfully. Dominic only glared at her in anger and pain, tears in his eyes, refusing to say anything further.
She said a quick farewell to Nan and escaped the room before she shattered completely.
So lost was she in a haze of grief that she hadn’t realized she’d traversed the hallway and descended the stairs until she spotted her husband sitting atop her trunk, his head and shoulders propped back against the wardrobe where just days before they’d shared an intimate interlude during that game of hide-and-seek.
Her tears dried almost instantly, evaporated by the heat of her anger. She straightened her spine and swallowed her pain. She was a New Yorker, and she refused to allow Rafe to win.
As she neared him, she couldn’t help but notice that he looked far worse than when he’d spent nights awake with the baby.
She didn’t know how he’d returned to The Cottage, but it had been more than three hours after her own arrival.
She wondered if he’d slept at all since then, then reminded herself that she shouldn’t care about any of it and would not give it a second thought from then on.
The pomade had been washed from his hair, so he’d bathed, but a shadow of a beard remained on his jaw.
She didn’t think she’d ever seen him outside of his bedchamber with the dark whiskers on his face.
He wore buff breeches and black boots, a clean white linen shirt open at the neck—no cravat, jacket, or waistcoat.
There was not a single splash of color on him.
It was so unlike Rafe to be so plain and unkempt by his normal standards.
Rafe’s bloodshot eyes met hers. “Are you truly leaving?” he asked gently.
“I am,” Victoria replied coolly. “My admission last night must have made you quite uncomfortable, but now that I know how you truly feel, I will pressure you no longer to return my affections. I never should have thought I could change what you hoped to receive from this marriage, and that mistake is on my head. I was foolish to believe we’d evolved to a space beyond the early days of our marriage.
Your words confirmed to me that I will never be more to you than an income. You have won.”
He leaned forward and roughly raked a hand through his hair. “Will you please give me a chance to explain, at least?”
“Why? So you can tell me that I misunderstood what I heard you say to Lady Dallow?” Her voice was bitter and thick, but she did not care.
She watched the muscle in his jaw twitch as she continued.
“So you can remind me that you did tell me you could never promise love, and that what you said was simply the truth?
“I thought I could manage a marriage of convenience—that I could maintain enough detachment from you to guard my heart—but I was wrong, Rafe. I was too stupid and too weak.”