Chapter 34
Estelle
My breathing quickened at the sight of Reginald.
“Estelle?” Augusta asked, glancing down at the firm grip I had on her wrist and back up to my shocked expression.
“It’s my brother.” My feet would not move, and worse, my mind seemed a frozen tundra—a wasteland of proper thought.
Reginald was not so encumbered. “Estelle!” He dropped his hat and ran to me. Augusta unlatched my grip and stepped aside just as he threw his arms around me, nearly bowling me over. “Estelle, you wicked girl!” His laugh came out a half sob.
My throat tightened and tears stung my eyes. He had missed me. He had really missed me. I threw my arms around him, my head pressing against his shoulder. I had missed him too. Indeed, I had missed him for years. My vision blurred at the familiar scent of his coat, and the dam on my emotions broke.
“You foolish girl. What were you thinking?” he berated. “I have been out of my mind with worry for you.”
“You have?” I asked, my voice hitching.
He pulled back, his eyes full of sincerity. “Of course I have. My little sister, sneaking off in the night without a penny to her name, living who knows where.”
I dropped my arms, my pride flaring. I swatted at my tears. “It wasn’t in the middle of the night, and I had enough pin money to see me through until I found employment. I hope you do not think me foolish enough as all that.”
I vaguely recalled that reckless night in the alley. Perhaps, I did not give his worry enough credit.
He sighed. “Well, I have found you now, and that is what matters. I want you to pack your things. I’m taking you home.”
“This is her home now,” Augusta inserted.
Both of us turned our heads her way.
Reginald scowled. “Who are you?”
“This is Miss Augusta Wilde,” I explained. “I am her companion.” His brow rose, but I did not give him a chance to vocalize his opinion and finished the introduction. “Miss Wilde, this is my brother, Reginald Lowry.”
They both dipped their heads to each other, but not deep enough to show any respect.
I made certain my face was dried from tears and started again with a bit more authority in my voice. “Miss Wilde is right, Reggie. This is my home now. I cannot simply leave.”
“You can and you will. I know you’re angry with me, but that does not change the location of your true home.” I recognized the stubborn line of his mouth and knew he meant it. Legally, he had every right to terminate my employment and bring me home again.
“Augusta,” I said, calmly. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
“Indeed, but wave if you need me.” She gave Reginald a challenging look, which was quite threatening despite her otherwise soft and feminine appearance.
I took Reginald’s arm and tugged him all the way back to his carriage. When I faced him again, I felt my composure had returned, and I was ready for battle. “I am happy here, Reggie. Does that mean anything to you?”
He frowned. “How could you ask that? You have completely disregarded your home, your family, and my happiness. You have spent more than half a year indulging your whims at the cost of everything your family has done for you. Your happiness, Estelle? What about your sense of duty?”
I was reminded that Reginald was the worst to argue with. “Have you forgotten that you engaged me to a stranger?”
He gave a firm nod. “And you are lucky that a stranger has waited for you.”
“What?” The blood seeped from my limbs.
He had the decency to look sheepish. “His name is Mr. Hanover. He’s a good man, I promise. In fact, he is the best man I know. I would not have picked some random fool for you. Despite what you think, I do care about your happiness. Very much.”
His words pricked me with guilt, but I was not ready to give in. “I believe you when you say he is good, but I still cannot marry him. I do not love him.”
“Love him?” He squinted at me like he could not believe what I was saying.
I swallowed and forced myself to say what needed to be said. “Love is important to me. Since I have come to Rosemont, it has become not just a hope, but a reality. I cannot marry Mr. Hanover because I love someone else.”
He stared at me like someone had taken my head right off my shoulders. “That is not possible. You are far too sensible a woman to fall in love with the first man you see.”
“He was not the first man I saw.” Although, admittedly, I had fallen in love with that man too. I lifted my chin. “His name is Lord Camden. If I am to marry anyone, it will be him.”
Reginald’s eyes widened in recognition. “Lord Camden?”
“Yes, that is his name.” Atlas was more widely known than I realized. “Do you know him?”
“I knew him once. You are honestly telling me that you fell in love with Lord Camden?” He pointed to Rosemont Court. “The man who owns this house? Your employer?”
Must he emphasize the employer part? “Yes, on all accounts.”
“That dirty scoundrel.”
“It’s not like that,” I said. “He has not compromised me in any way.”
“So the lady says,” Reginald mumbled between clenched teeth.
“Reggie, really!”
“Forget it for now. We can discuss it more at home. How long will it take you to pack your things?”
I huffed. “You’re not listening.”
“After what you have revealed, leaving is imperative.”
“You’re misconstruing the whole thing.”
“I would hate to make a scene, Estelle. Must I throw you over my shoulder and drag you home like a disobedient child, or will you act like the mature young lady who I know is in there somewhere and come willingly?”
I clenched my jaw, my mind searching for another solution. I did not want to make a scene in front of Lady Camden, but I could not leave without saying goodbye to Atlas.
“Must we leave this minute?”
His face hardened. Right. He had already waited for me long enough. My stomach sank. “Let me fetch Nora and gather my things. Will you wait inside?”
His gaze trailed up the impressive edifice that was Rosemont Court—the place that I had begun to call my home, although I had no right to it. “I suppose I can stand to be sociable with the people who have kidnapped you from me, but only for a half hour. You had better hurry.”
“Don’t say anything untoward,” I begged, as we crossed the drive to the front steps. Augusta joined us, and we clasped each other’s arms. Her eyes were painted with trepidation, and they likely mirrored my own. I hated that I had to abandon her so much earlier than planned.
Over an hour after Reginald arrived, Nora and I finished packing. A footman carried my trunk out of my bedchamber to the carriage. Augusta had stayed by my side the entire time, angry one minute and easing my concerns the next.
“It will all work out,” Augusta said for the third time in so many minutes, as we descended the stairs. “As soon as Atlas returns home, he will set everything right again.”
Would he? I wanted him to fight for me, but what would he say about Mr. Hanover—my fiancé? Or about my many lies? He was not obligated to help me.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Lady Camden came storming out of the drawing room with Reginald not far behind him. When she spotted me, her anger turned my way.
“We let you into our home. We trusted you.”
Augusta put her arm around me. “Mother, she has not hurt us in any way.”
“No?” Lady Camden’s voice wavered. She folded her arms over her chest as if to protect herself.
“Did she tell you that her people are Irish?” The word was like poison on her lips, and it made her shiver.
“I suspected something was off. Had I known I had such a lowborn companion for my daughter, I would have seen her gone sooner.”
“My lady, that is quite enough,” Reginald said, far braver than I. “Estelle, we should go.”
Augusta shot a worried glance my way. Right when I had a glimpse of happiness in sight, everything had fallen apart. I swallowed and faced Lady Camden. “I am sorry for deceiving you. That was very wrong. And I thank you for the hospitality you have shown me.” I curtsied, low and deep.
When I stood again, Lady Camden had her handkerchief to her mouth.
There was sorrow in her eyes—unforgivable pain that I could never understand.
A wave of sympathy passed over me. It would be all too easy to hate her back for her unkindness, but I could never do that.
I knew about Athena and could well imagine how pain had colored Lady Camden’s perspective.
I turned to Augusta. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I—”
She shook her head, cutting off my apology. “We’re still sisters.” A firm sincerity shone through her eyes.
I threw my arms around her, tears streaming down my face. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
“Enough, Augusta,” her mother pleaded, her voice a half whisper. “Let her go.”
Mr. Barnes opened the door for us just as a man stepped up to knock. I recognized him as Atlas’s solicitor, Mr. Briggs. I had seen him once in passing, but we had never met formally. It was too bad he had traveled all this way only to discover Atlas was not here.
Maybe it was better Atlas had left. One less witness to my humiliation.
It was raining again—a downpour at the looks of it.
Mr. Briggs stepped aside to let us pass.
He held his coat tighter just under his collar to keep himself dry.
I hurried to tie my bonnet under my chin, the high brim offering little protection from the elements, so Mr. Briggs would not have to stand outside any longer.
There was no way I was requesting the use of an umbrella, though heaven knew I would need it.
“Pardon,” I said, slipping past him, eager to leave. In my urgency, I stepped poorly, and my hand caught on his gray wool coat lined with gold buttons.
“Forgive me,” I said, straightening, my face heating with more embarrassment. It seemed Mr. Briggs was able to glimpse some of my humiliation after all.
“Of course, miss,” Mr. Briggs said, his eyes kind.
At least I was leaving Atlas with a friend. I wish I was returning to a few of my own.
Reginald took my arm, and I was grateful for it.
I did not think I would fall again, but I needed reassurance when everything else was tumbling down around me.
We rushed to the carriage, diving inside for shelter.
Nora was inside, her face grim. Fussing over my damp cloak, I heard the unsaid worry in her voice about far weightier matters.
Rosemont housed more than just the people I had come to love.
We were both leaving behind a piece of our hearts.
As the conveyance lurched forward, I cast one last glance at the house. Through the rivulets of rain on my window, I fancied the manor might be mourning with me. While part of me was happy to be reunited with Reginald, the majority of my heart ached to stay with Atlas and Augusta.
As the miles passed between us, I mindlessly reached inside my reticule, my fingers finding the familiar button. Oddly enough, I had not needed its comfort for some time. Without even realizing it, I had leaned on Augusta and Atlas for such things. Now, I was reverting to a friendless state.
No, that was not true. Even with the distance between us, I knew they would not so easily forget our time together and neither would I. Retrieving the button from inside the folds of my reticule, my eyes caught on its gold surface.
Frowning, I rubbed my thumb over it. Gold . . .
Mr. Briggs had gold buttons on his coat. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember them. An image flashed through my mind, and it sent my heart racing. A minuscule flag with an olive branch crest. The buttons were the same!
He had held his coat closed because he had been missing a button.
This button.
My hand flew to my throat. I had wanted to think it belonged to Mr. Long, but it was just as likely that he had ripped it off of his attacker. Good heavens. Mr. Briggs was an evil man!
No, that was wrong. He had been a kind friend to Atlas. But if the buttons were the same, he had also been the one to attack Mr. Long. Mercy! I had to warn Atlas.
That thought triggered a series of other thoughts, and they rained down on me with greater force than the torrent of nature outside the train window. It was as if I was hearing Augusta sound out each letter, spelling out the greatest clue of all.
My back straightened. “No!” I cried.
Reginald yanked his head up. “Estelle?”
Nora turned concerned eyes on me.
I ignored them, my mind sorting through everything a second time. Atlas’s confession was the key. He had been beaten—just as Mr. Long had been. Because Atlas was Mr. Long.
How had I been so foolish not to see it from the beginning?
His hair had seemed a shade darker, but I had first seen him in the fall after he had likely spent time outside through the summer.
He wore it shorter now was all. And while he was perhaps leaner from his time recovering from his injuries, there was no doubt now in my mind that it was him.
I had held his hand and did not even know it. And even more remarkable, I had fallen in love with the same man twice.
“Estelle?” Reginald repeated.
“Hmm?”
“Are you ill? You are white as a ghost.”
“Not ill, no.”
“Then what? Your mumbling is worrying me.”
“I am prone to mumbling, or have you forgotten?” I snapped.
Contrition quickly followed. I had been quite the trial to Reginald, and I was not going to win any battles by arguing.
“Forgive me. I have unfinished business at Rosemont, and I need to return. Please, Reggie. Someone might get hurt. Will you not consider my desires?”
“You are engaged, Estelle. We both have obligations at home. You cannot keep running from them.”
He thought I was making excuses. “Reginald Lowry, you have to listen to me!”
“I want to listen, but I cannot condone your disregard for decency. You are a lady, not a governess!” I had rarely seen Reginald this upset, but he had to see reason.
“This is important!” I cried.
“For heaven’s sake, Estelle,” he snapped.
“I have searched relentlessly for you since last fall. I could hardly sleep at night with worry. I am exhausted beyond description. Do you want to know what is important to me? Finding you was important to me. Now bringing you home is important. Keeping you safe is important. And especially protecting your reputation is important.”
I stared at his eyes wild with caged emotion, unable to speak.
He shook his head, his voice spent. “Try to understand for one moment how I feel right now.”
I bit back my pleadings and turned my body away from him. What was I to do if I could not turn the carriage around and warn Atlas? He was convinced he could trust Mr. Briggs. But Reginald was at a breaking point himself, and it was my fault.
Very well. If I could not go to Atlas, I would write to him. When we reached the train station, I would send word back to him and pray it was not too late.