Chapter 32
Estelle
Atlas gave me plenty of time to think over his revelation by avoiding me the rest of the day. I knew he cared for me, but his confession had caused him to withdraw into himself. His haunted eyes and somber demeanor concerned me.
That evening, I retired to bed early as a favor to us both.
Atlas would not have to worry about running into me, and I did not have to make excuses for not paying attention to Augusta.
I was the one who was supposed to have confessed my secret, and I had not been prepared to have the tables turned on me.
At least his secret was out, while mine was festering inside.
If only he hadn’t walked away in the garden.
I rolled over in bed and propped my book up against a pillow. I had been attempting to read for the last half hour, but I kept repeating the same four sentences.
A knock sounded on my door.
Augusta occasionally visited my room for a late-night chat. She had probably grown bored without me. “Come in.”
A maid entered, carrying a tray of food.
I sat up, surprised. “What is this?”
“I was told this was for you.” She set it on my bedside table.
My brow furrowed. Atop the wood tray lay two slices of bread with a spot of jam on each and a cup of steaming chocolate beside it. I reached over and lifted the napkin, revealing a slice of cheese.
Atlas had been behind this. Because the maid was watching, I tempered my reaction and bit back my smile.
“Is there anythin’ else you need, miss?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. This is wonderful.” Atlas no doubt regretted his abruptness and did not want me to worry for him.
How could I not? When you cared for someone, you wanted to help them through their struggles.
If he thought this confession could change my heart, he was wrong.
He was not the man he had described—or rather, he wasn’t that man any longer.
Picking up a toast, I took a large bite. It tasted lovely and reminded me of my time in the larder with Atlas. Without a note, I could only wonder what else he had been trying to tell me.
I imagined my own interpretation: This toast is to remind you of our kiss. I would like to repeat it at the soonest opportunity. I kicked my legs under my coverlet and silently squealed.
Once I finished eating, my stomach was full, and I was a great deal happier.
My restless energy had diminished, and I could relax against my pillow.
Still, my thoughts circled back to our conversation.
He had been right. What he had done was deceitful and absolutely horrible.
No wonder he had nightmares. But he was wrong about himself.
People could change. I wasn’t the same Estelle I had been at Norwood Hall.
Each experience shaped us, giving us an opportunity to grow.
Atlas had chosen a better path, and I wanted to walk it beside him.
The next morning, I found the family had gathered for breakfast. This was not the most usual occurrence.
Augusta had forgone her occasional morning ride, and Lady Camden had risen earlier than normal.
Now we only needed Atlas to join us. A thrill of anticipation ran down my arms. I could not wait to thank him for the bedtime tray.
I dished my plate at the sideboard and took a seat beside Augusta. Not two minutes later, Atlas entered the room. Jerking my head up, I waited for him to look at me and smile.
He did not.
Why? Why did he not so much as glance my way? I shoved bite after bite into my mouth to hide my disappointment.
A few minutes into the meal, Atlas cleared his throat. “I am leaving town again.”
Mid-swallow, I choked. I reached for my water, some of it sloshing out in my haste, and gulped rapidly.
Augusta slapped my back. “Dear me. Are you all right?”
“Yes, it was the scone. Such a delightful scone. I should not have inhaled it so quickly.”
Atlas finally met my gaze with a curious one of his own. I shoved another bite in my mouth—a glutton for punishment.
“How long will you be away?” Lady Camden asked.
He shrugged. “I am not entirely sure.”
I coughed. This time I could not blame the scone.
Atlas was running away. I knew it because I had done it myself.
I poked at the remains of my breakfast, watching him out of the corner of my eye.
When I first met him, I thought him solemn.
Now I wondered if it was a mixture of self-loathing and too much time in his own head.
The real him was more light-hearted and amiable, and I wished to see that side of him appear across the table from me now.
But of course, he didn’t glance my way again.
It hurt to see him hurting, but it ached more to see him pull away. Rosemont had begun to feel like my home, but was my presence here making Atlas seek solace elsewhere?
After breakfast, Augusta and I relocated to the library.
“What’s the matter, Estelle?” she asked. “What happened yesterday in the garden after I left?”
I rubbed my forehead, wishing I could tell her. But it was not my secret to share. “I suppose you could say that Atlas and I had a difference of opinion.”
“Drat. Well, one of you had better apologize. I have arranged your future marriage meticulously in my mind, and you will be my sister.”
Her words broke through my worry and made me smile. “Whatever happens, we can still be sisters. Blood and marriage are not the only ways to protect a friendship like ours. You were my first real friend in this world, and I will not let anything come between us.”
Augusta reached out and squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Estelle. Because I cannot endure my first Season without you. Promise me you will be there.”
My birthday was in September, and I would be gone by then. I swallowed. “I will not abandon you. I promise.” It was not a lie, but it was only a half-truth. How many of those would I make before my time here was through?
The door creaked open and Atlas entered. I sucked in my breath. He had not left yet. “Miss Lewis, may I speak with you?”
Augusta and I shared a look.
“He’s come to apologize!” she whispered.
I dared not respond. I crossed to the opposite side of the room, our shoulders nearly touching the shelves to the side of us. “Forgive me for interrupting your lessons. Do you have a moment?”
I forced a smile. “I am here, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” He blew out a shaky breath. “I, uh, wanted to tell you about my business. It will take me to my cottage hospital,” he said. “I know it’s not far from here, but I want to make certain it has everything it needs. No one else can know where I am going. I’m not ready to tell my mother yet.”
And yet he told me of his plans? What did it mean? Augusta watched us from her chair by the window, but I did not think she could hear us. “I understand. Will we be able to finish our talk soon?”
“When I return. I know I confused you, and I am sorry for it. I just wanted to tell you that before I left.”
Must he be so sweet and vague at the same time? I wanted him to reach for me and tell me that everything would work out. His hands, however, stayed by his side. His eyes lacked warmth too, and I could feel him distancing himself from me.
I did not want him to leave yet. Not like this. “Thank you for the bedtime fare last night.”
“You’re welcome.” He rubbed the back of his neck, giving absolutely no sign that he wanted to kiss me again like I had imagined his gift of bread had represented.
Still, I persisted in delaying his departure. “I hope you find the cottage hospital in a good state.”
“Thank you.”
He leaned back on his heel to leave, so I blurted, “And please . . . don’t stay away too long.”
He stared at me. Just stared. My desperate words had taken him aback. Oh, I was an idiot. But idiot or not, the smallest spark lit in his eyes. Whether it was admiration or attraction or plain amusement, I did not care. Because at that moment, I had his complete attention.
And it must have gone to my head.
“I plan to go riding soon,” I blurted next. “I know you would hate to miss such a memorable moment.” Riding? Me? Oh, mercy. Did I really say that?
The corners of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. “I would hate to miss that.”
I smiled too. “I will try to be patient, but you know how I yearn to be in the saddle.”
“Yes. Like you yearn to swim.”
He had me there.
His smile grew. “I suppose I will have to expedite my business, won’t I?” He seemed to search my eyes for my true feelings, and I hoped he saw them. I did not care about his past. His remorse was proof that he had changed. I could see it, so why couldn’t he?
“I believe it is imperative you hurry then,” I said. “Just to be safe.” I clenched my hands together in my skirt. When he returned, I would have to tell him my secrets, for better or worse. Regardless, I missed him already.
I thought I had overcome my fear of being left behind by the people I love, but it suddenly surfaced again with vengeance.
My parents had left me. Reginald had left.
Mr. Long . . . well, admittedly, I had been the one to leave him.
I wasn’t supposed to have attached myself to Atlas for those fears to return.
He had traveled a few times before, but this time seemed to matter so much more.
I was afraid he was taking a part of my heart with him, and I did not know what he planned to do with it. I reached for the seam of my gloves.
He stepped sideways, blocking Augusta’s view of me, and picked up my right hand. With gentle fingers he carefully and methodically straightened, not just the outer seam, but each individual finger and the three seams that decorated the back of my hand.
“Speaking about my past proved harder than I imagined. I need time to clear my mind.” His eyes met mine. “Will you wait for me?”
My breath hitched. How could he imagine otherwise?
“I will wait as long as it takes.”
His gaze seared mine, saying everything his mouth did not. Finally, he lifted my hand his lips and pressed a kiss just above the top of my glove, warming my skin. Then he exchanged my right hand for the left, straightening the seams on that glove too.
I watched, completely mesmerized, his head bent in concentration so near my own.
I caught his scent, a hint of bergamot soap and a masculine musk completely his own.
My heart trilled when he lifted my second hand to his lips, this kiss lasting several beats longer.
Gooseflesh erupted down my arms and legs.
I would wait an eternity for him if I had to.
And I hoped he would do the same for me when he learned my secret.
Atlas whispered his goodbye, and I let him go with a small smile and my chin up. I found my way to my seat and realized Augusta was watching me and frowning deeply.
“I cannot pretend to know much about courtship, but it did not look like that apology went well.”
In some ways she was right. He was still leaving, and I was still a liar.
My confident chin began to wobble. “Augusta, I must speak to you about a particular matter.”
Concern painted over her expression. “What’s wrong? You must tell me.”
“Everything.” My voice pitched high and tears threatened. I wanted to explain to Atlas first, but I sorely needed to share my burdens with someone in the meantime. Augusta deserved to be that someone. She deserved the truth.
Augusta covered her mouth with her hand. “Did you break off the courtship? Is this about your stranger?”
I shook my head, guilt climbing my limbs and threatening to drown me. I kept my back straight, and I clasped my hands tightly in my lap. “It’s about my lies.”
Augusta sat back in her seat, her brow stitching together. “What?”
I plowed ahead, aching to unburden myself.
“Last fall, my brother sent me a letter.” Augusta knew that my parents had died and that I had an estranged brother, but nothing more.
“It was most vexing. He had engaged me to his friend without telling me. And worse, he did not even give me the man’s name or situation. ”
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I was.”
Augusta leaned closer. “What happened?”
“I had always done exactly as I was asked to do, but I could not do this. I could not marry this man. So . . . I ran away.”
Augusta’s eyes bulged. “You ran?”
I nodded, afraid she would think the worst of me.
“What does that mean exactly?” she asked warily. “You ran to your room? To your neighbor’s house? To hide in a field somewhere?”
I looked down at my clasped hands in my lap, remembering Atlas’s touch.
My secrets did not merit his attention. Swallowing, I continued.
“I took a train to London, where I advertised for a governess position. I changed my name so my brother would not find me and have been hiding from him ever since. It’s imperative that I return on my birthday to receive my inheritance. ” I blew out my breath.
It was done.
I had come clean.
Tears spilled out, and I wiped furiously at them.
Augusta ran around the table and enveloped me in a hug and let me cry. “By Jove, Estelle! I cannot believe what you have gone through on your own.” She pulled back. “Wait. Is Estelle even your name?”
I sniffed. “It is. But Lewis is not. My real name is Estelle Lowry. Oh, Augusta, can you ever forgive me?”
She chewed on her lip. “I can—after a minute or two. I’m a bit bewildered at present.
I am not sure what it means for your position here, or how it will affect myself or my brother.
But of course, I will forgive you. I make a muck of my life every day.
It would be a strange thing indeed if I could not forgive those around me who do the same.
Not to mention your lie began before we were friends, and you did choose to tell the truth once you trusted me.
” She gave me another tight squeeze and moved back to her seat.
She picked up her reader and started fanning her face.
It was a good use of the book, since the only education we were getting to do today was about my sorry past.
Augusta glanced out the window and pushed to her feet. “Come. The two of us are taking a walk. I thought it was going to rain today, but it has held off thus far, thank goodness. We are in dire need of fresh air and exercise. Besides, I want to hear all about this brother of yours.”
I wiped my eyes and obediently followed her.
I had been so worried what Augusta would think of me, but she was mercifully taking it in stride.
I did not deserve her forgiveness, and yet, she had freely given it.
She would never know what kind of gift she had given me.
For so long, my pursuit of perfection had consumed all my attention with little reward.
The pursuit of friendship filled up my aching parts and comforted me.
Today, I was not her companion. She was mine.