Chapter 37
Estelle
Two Weeks Later
Isat at my desk and pushed aside my untouched books. I was ready to run back to Rosemont. I worried for Atlas. Did he get my letter? Was he safe? I longed to be with him and Augusta, to hear their voices, and to assure myself that they were well.
Pulling out a sheet of paper, I stared at the blank page. I had written a dozen letters already but had crumpled them up and burned them. Each had contained an insufficient apology too pathetic to send. No matter how hard I tried, nothing expressed my feelings adequately.
Every line felt wrong.
I’m sorry that I cannot return. My brother insists I marry a stranger.
Or worse:
Your mother does not like me. It was right for me to leave.
No matter how I said it, it either evoked anger with my situation or sorrow that I could not have what I wanted. I had only cared for two men in my life—Mr. Long and Atlas—and if my suspicions were right, they were the same person. How could I endure the distance between us?
I took to daydreaming about Atlas coming to rescue me. He’d profess his love and demand to marry me. His mother, of course, would overlook my heritage after the way I had helped her daughter. And Augusta would finally have a sister again.
But as each day passed, I wondered if Atlas was even looking for me—if he had even wanted to after learning the truth about me from Augusta.
It had been two long weeks. If he had wanted to come, wouldn’t he have come by now?
It was even worse to wonder if something had happened and he couldn’t have come even if he had wanted to.
A tear dripped onto the paper in my hands, marring it with one splotch and then another. I ached for him to come. Oh, why did he not come?
Nora came in to help me dress. “It’s time.”
Reginald had said it was only fair that I meet my fiancé and give him a chance.
After all, if word got around about my escapades, I might not receive another proposal of marriage.
Though thoroughly convinced I would prefer spinsterhood to Mr. Hanover, I had little choice in the matter.
My brother made the arrangements, and Mr. Hanover was on his way to meet me.
I pushed aside the ruined paper on my desk.
The blankness echoed the void in my heart, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at it.
The perfect apology to Atlas seemed futile to write.
I pushed myself to my feet. “Let’s get this over with.”
I selected a gown that was neither my best nor my worst and a pair of netted gloves—with fewer seams to fuss over.
Adding a simple gold chain to my throat, I fingered the cold metal.
I had no intention of impressing him, but I did desire confidence.
While Nora twisted my hair up, I noted the warm sunshine filtering through my window.
The weather was much too fine for a doomed meeting.
After I met Nora’s expectations with my appearance—since I did not care one wit—I settled in the drawing room with a stack of books I had already read at least three times and waited for the wretched deed to be done.
Reginald took up residence in the armchair beside the sofa, reading the newspaper and acting as if this morning was the same as any other he had experienced.
Then again, he wasn’t meeting the person he would be forced to marry.
I heard a commotion coming from outside the drawing room toward the front door. I glanced at the clock on the mantel and groaned. “He’s early.”
Reginald closed the paper in his hands and set it aside. “Isn’t early better than late?”
I glared at him in response.
“Chin up. He’s not old or bald. You might even think him handsome.”
“If I don’t, will you be done with this silly charade?”
He smirked. “My sister can be such a wit.”
I made a face back at him, something I never would have done if Mother would have been alive.
In fact, I wondered if I had picked up the mannerism from Augusta.
I would have to examine that thought later.
I quickly schooled my expression when the drawing door opened.
Pushing to my feet, I held very still as the butler announced Mr. Hanover.
“Lord Camden and Miss Wilde to see you both.”
I gasped. Those were not the names I had expected to hear. “Let them in!” I squealed. Throwing decorum out the window, I raced to the door just as they entered. “What are you doing here?” I threw my arms around Augusta, who threw her arms right back around me.
“We had to come!” she said with a laugh.
I clung tightly to her. “I am ever so glad! I’ve missed you so.”
I pulled back and instinctively reached for Atlas. My arms awkwardly froze outstretched before him. I could not hug him. We were not engaged. In fact, I was rather engaged elsewhere.
Dropping my arms, I hid my hands behind my back.
But even if I could not touch him, the sight of him filled my senses with pure happiness—his dark golden hair, ruffled from his travels, his clothes fitted to his broad shoulders and lean form, and his bright-green eyes, lined with gray, resting on me.
He was safe. And he was here.
“Welcome to Norwood Hall,” I breathed.
“Thank you.” Atlas’s warm smile could melt butter in a snowstorm. Or at least it had that effect on me.
“We love it already,” Augusta cooed.
“Lord Camden,” Reginald said from behind me. I stepped toward Augusta to let Reginald closer.
“Lowry,” Atlas responded, his voice steady.
There was something unusual about the greeting between the two men. My gaze bounced between the two of them. I had forgotten that Reginald had once known Lord Camden. “How do you know each other?”
“We met at university,” Reginald said.
I sputtered. “Then were you friends?”
Atlas clasped his hands behind his back. “We were friends, but perhaps that has changed.”
Reginald scowled. “I thought highly of you until you kidnapped my sister.”
Atlas did not let my brother’s accusation provoke him. “I did not kidnap her; I hired her. I had no idea she was your relation until after you took her away—without so much as a hello or goodbye, let me remind you.”
Reginald folded his arms across his chest. “You were not home and no one knew when to expect your return. Please forgive my hurry to be reunited with my sister.” Reginald’s voice wavered between the line of practiced patience and growing frustration.
“You must forgive my sister as well, it seems. I recall she deceived you about her situation. I am not certain why you rushed to her side now after such deception.”
“Because we love her,” Augusta said, throwing a protective arm around my shoulders.
We? A glimmer of hope filled me, but I dared not ask her to clarify.
I made a sorry attempt to smile at Augusta, but the fact that my brother and Atlas were friends turned enemies sent a wave of misgiving through me.
Reginald still couldn’t believe that something untoward had happened between me and Lord Camden.
Employers had fallen in love with their employees before—and who was to say that they were all because of a scandal?
Atlas cleared his throat as if the act would cut through the underlying contention and bring the room back to friendly terms. “The grounds at Norwood Hall are lovely and the weather today is fair. Perhaps we could walk the grounds together.”
I don’t know if Atlas suggested the walk for Augusta’s sake, mine, or my brother’s, but I thought the idea splendid.
“I could use some exercise.” I appealed to my brother, hoping he would concede. I longed to speak with Atlas without the prying eyes of my brother.
Reginald folded his arms. “Very well. A short walk around the perimeter of the house would be acceptable. We are expecting my sister’s intended shortly and cannot be out too long.”
Just like that, the room grew tense and awkward once more.
I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek and avoided Atlas’s gaze.
I could not bear to see his reaction. Fortunately, everyone was already moving toward the door.
Augusta slipped her arm through mine. We followed behind the men down the corridor and through the front door.
As soon as we were outside, Augusta released me. She maneuvered herself beside Reginald and began plying him with questions about the estate’s history. She glanced at me and motioned with her head toward Atlas.
Bless her! She was a saint.
I slowed my step, and Atlas did the same.
“I cannot believe you traveled all the way here.” I chanced a glance at him, but I could not decipher his feelings. When I had dreamed of him coming, I had not imagined the awkwardness the size of an elephant between us. If only he had not come so close to the time of Mr. Hanover’s arrival.
“Your home is beautiful,” Atlas answered. “It surprised me greatly, as I thought your family was destitute.”
I grimaced. “Because I was your sister’s companion?”
He nodded, slow and long. “I must give you credit for telling the truth about residing in Northumberland when Mr. Barry asked you at my aunt’s party.
However, this . . .” he said as pointed to the large manor house, “was not expected. Your fine clothes should have given you away, but I assumed your family’s financial losses must have been recent. ”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “My dowry is worth a lot of money, but until I reach my majority, I do have very little that I can call my own. So, you see, I am poor . . . in a sense.”
He gave me a side glance that told me that he did not think my justification was clever at all.
I did not blame him. “I wanted to tell you.”
His face was impassive. I could not tell if he hated me or wanted me.
“I know you did,” he finally said.
I dropped my arms and ran my hands down my skirt. “I thought there would be a time when you returned home from your trip. I had planned to explain everything. Once I left, I wrote dozens of letters. Only, I was not certain if you would want them. I should have had the courage to send them.”
He eyed me. “We have a little time now.”