Chapter 33
Estelle
Augusta insisted on another walk in the morning, despite the damp ground from the rain that had muddied the earth the night before.
I asked her to stop at the stables where I practiced greeting Duchess.
Just in case. The memory of Atlas—his touch and his kindness—gave me a thread of hope—fragile though it may be.
Outside the stable, our steps making their way back to the house, I worked up my courage to ask the question pressing on my mind. “Do you think Atlas will forgive me?”
Augusta sighed and brushed a piece of hay that had attached itself to her skirt. “I used to think him quite predictable, but I cannot guess what he will do or say now. However, we can rely on his affection for you. Let us hope that will soften the news.”
When we returned to the front of the house, an unmarked carriage was parked in the drive. Had Abramson returned? Or perhaps, Mr. Briggs, Atlas’s solicitor? “Do you recognize the conveyance?”
Augusta slowed her step. “No. I wonder who it could be.”
The carriage door swung open, and a man stepped out. Well-dressed, with rigid posture, he swept his hat off his head, revealing familiar raven-black hair.
I stopped walking, gripping Augusta’s wrist for stability.
“What is it?” she asked.
The man’s head turned our way and confirmed what I already knew.
Reginald had found me.
Atlas
Briggs was right. The progress on the cottage hospital was well in hand. Not that I had any real purpose in coming other than to clear my head. Estelle had overlooked my mistakes too easily. She was a fool to do so. And an even bigger one if she still cared for me.
An adorable fool, that is.
A wry grin crossed my face as I entered my rented room at the local inn, remembering how she had asked me to hurry home.
Her sincerity had broken through the barrier I had carefully rebuilt around myself after revealing my past to her.
Her mention of horse riding had nearly collapsed it entirely.
She might be foolish where I was concerned, but she was also the exact person I needed in my life.
She made a second chance look desirable.
Her kindness was changing me and how I felt about myself.
Because she thought me good enough, it gave me hope that I could be.
Exhausted from little sleep, I threw myself on my bed.
Kicking off my boots, I pulled at my necktie.
Tumultuous thoughts had stolen my appetite, and I did not care to go down for dinner.
I did not need food, but a friend. If only I had not turned my back on everyone, I might have someone I could turn to for advice.
Or if Father were still alive. . . . I suppressed the sharp ache that came with the memories of my rambunctious youth and how he’d stepped in to prevent my folly.
I pulled on the chain around my neck, yanking the ruby ring free from beneath my shirt. One day away from Estelle and already I missed her. I tried to imagine her expression when I returned her ring. But would I have a promise to go with it? I loved her but still did not feel I deserved her.
A thought made me pull up on one elbow. Briggs was married.
He might have some words of wisdom for me.
I swung my legs over the side of my bed and hurried to the writing desk that doubled as a dressing table.
I pulled out a sheet of paper and scrawled a message to him to meet me at Rosemont Court on the morrow, if his family could spare him.
I would cover the cost of the train and carriage and make it worth his while.
On a whim, I selected two more sheets of paper.
On the first, I wrote a letter to Mr. Thornbeck, explaining to the vicar how I had finally found my rescuer.
She was far more wonderful than I had imagined.
I told him of the immense joy I felt and thanked him many times over for his part in my recovery and my search.
My hand betrayed me then, and I added a few unexpected lines.
I told him of how I had fallen into sin before my injuries, and how even after I had changed, I could not make peace with my past.
Somehow, knowing he was a man of the cloth made me feel safe in my confession, and it unburdened me further.
The third letter was to Mr. Gregory, calling off the investigation for Miss Palmer and requesting his help in finding my assailants.
I sealed all three letters and paid extra to have them marked urgent.
A calmness settled my harried thoughts, and my appetite returned with vengeance.
After dressing again, I went down for dinner after all and ate a hearty supper before retiring for bed.
That night I slept better, having a plan in mind. I would talk to Briggs, settle my mind, and move forward. After a quick breakfast, I loaded my belongings into my saddle bags and rode home.