19. Noted Absence
NOTED ABSENCE
Reginald helped Rose down from the carriage and walked her to the door, but after one final, unreadable look, he turned away. Back to his ship, she supposed.
Then four days passed without a word.
By the twenty-second of August, Rose woke each morning with a small knot beneath her ribs, pulled tighter by the knowledge that little more than a week remained.
She tried not to count the days. Tried not to wonder where he was—or whether he missed her at all.
She failed at both.
I want you. More than I have ever wanted anyone.
The words returned to her far too often.
Perhaps that was why he stayed away. Reginald was stubborn enough to deny himself anything once he’d decided it was wrong.
But was he thinking about The Domus too? Reconsidering what he intended to do? Or had he simply removed himself so he wouldn’t have to face either choice?
Rose didn’t know.
She only knew that without him, her days had suddenly become strangely empty.
And of course, Nell noticed his absence as well.
She still opined, however, that the answer was simple. Lure him into one of the receiving rooms one more time and give him a night of such pleasure that closing The Domus would become unthinkable.
The idea left Rose more unsettled each time Nell raised it.
Because she did want him—there was no use pretending otherwise—but she didn’t want him… like that.
She wanted to make love with him.
Because this passionate, fascinating man had made her feel like… like more than what the world had decided she was. As though she deserved kindness. Choice. The simple, ordinary wants other women took for granted.
And if she were to draw him into a receiving room and use pleasure to change his mind, it would erase everything that had passed between them. Their walks. Their conversations. That almost-kiss in the carriage—something she couldn’t stop thinking about.
Dreaming about.
It would be as if those moments never happened.
And with each passing day, that possibility became harder to bear.
By the fourth morning, Rose was nearly mad with missing him. She’d even begun contemplating excuses to visit his ship when the note arrived.
Meet me at our place by the Serpentine at one.
Yours,
Reginald
Nine simple words.
He wanted to see her.
And Rose knew precisely where. Their quiet spot beside the Serpentine, where he’d shown her how to choose the flattest, smoothest stones and send them skipping across the water. They’d returned more than once. It was quiet there, peaceful.
Excitement shot through her.
But then she read it again, and the second time, fear washed over her.
Then once more, lingering over the word: Yours.
Everything is going to be fine, she reassured herself as she dressed with ridiculous care. Nothing seductive. A pale blue walking gown, a modest bonnet, and gloves that covered nearly every inch of skin.
Yet again, she felt like one of those ridiculous Mayfair debutantes preparing to meet a gentleman under the eye of an anxious mama.
Only Rose had no mama.
Nor would she be accompanied by a chaperone.
By the time the carriage dropped her near the appointed path, the butterflies in her stomach felt more like grasshoppers.
What was she even doing? Even if he didn’t close The Domus, he’d eventually sail away on his ship.
How was she ever going to return to her old life after this?
The thought of entertaining clients… of having to don the wigs, the paint, the mask, and be intimate with anyone but Reginald iced the blood in her veins.
But she was going to have to. All of this was only temporary. Wasn’t it?
And being with him, believing the way he made her feel?
It was dangerous.
Unless…
Perhaps he meant to offer her a special arrangement. His protection. A place as his mistress once The Domus closed.
The thought ought to have reassured her.
It didn’t. Instead, dread tightened beneath her ribs, and for one wild moment, she nearly turned back.
Then she saw him.
The captain. The lord. The man…
Reginald stood beneath the trees near the water, his back to her. Tall, broad-shouldered, and hatless… and then he turned.
Even from a distance, Rose saw the light flare in his silver eyes.
And when he walked toward her, he did so almost cautiously, as though he was not entirely certain of his welcome.
But seeing him, after four dull, anxious days, any dread she’d felt disappeared.
She felt awake again. Warm again.
And far too aware of the myriads of questions between them.
Reginald stopped before her, his hat in one hand.
Up close, she saw the shadows beneath his eyes, the thick sweep of his lashes, the tension drawn around his mouth.
He looked tired. Troubled.
And still, relief moved through her simply because he was there.
“You look lovely.”
There was no practiced charm in it. If anything, he seemed almost uneasy.
“Thank you.” The words nearly caught in her throat.
He dipped his chin, one corner of his mouth quirked as though attempting a smile, and then he offered his arm.
Rose didn’t hesitate even a second before taking it. Because she didn’t just want to touch him. She needed to.
She was having the same feelings she’d felt that first night. This pull, these threads wound tightly around them.
They’d always been there.
With a hitch in her breath, Rose waited until they had gone several steps before she found the courage to speak.
“I missed you.”
His hand closed firmly over hers. But when he still didn’t speak, she continued.
“Have I had done something to offend you?”
“No.” He looked down at her, and something in his face made her breath catch. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
She waited, but he seemed to require a moment to consider how to say what he meant to say.
“I have been at the shipyard. The repairs are moving faster than expected.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
“Once the damaged planking was removed, we found the timbers beneath were sound. The new canvas is aboard, and the rigging crew finished yesterday.” There was unmistakable pride in his voice now. “They will flood the dock at high water tomorrow and float her out.”
Rose’s steps faltered.
“You’re—” Her voice caught. “You’re leaving.”
And against all reason, it was the fear of losing him… that first gripped her.
Not that he would close The Domus. Not what would become of Nell or Marianne or Violet or any of the others.
He was leaving her.
“Not tomorrow,” he said.
But soon, no doubt. September was almost here.
Rose forced herself to keep walking. “You must be pleased.”
“I am.”
Of course he was. The ship was his real home. London had only ever been a place where he was forced to wait.
“If your ship will be in the water tomorrow, then why wait?” Rose asked.
“The Gale may be ready, but there are other matters to see to before we sail. We’ll need stores. The repairs must be tested. The crew given time to return.”
A day or two, then.
Her hand felt cold where it rested upon his arm.
He could still change his mind. Leave The Domus to operate as it had all summer. Nothing bound him to close it but his own stubborn resolve.
Reginald was staring across the water.
“And I must finalize matters with Sedgewick. The sale, of course, but also the stipends and arrangements for everyone who’ll be displaced. I won’t leave until I know those provisions are secure.”
The quiet certainty in his voice hollowed something inside her.
Was this why he’d wanted to meet with her? To tell her he wasn’t reconsidering at all? He was simply preparing to leave?
“There is a whole world out there, Rose. Away from England. On a ship, it’s quite literally waiting beyond each new horizon.”
She said nothing.
“You wake to one coast, and a fortnight later there is another. Sometimes you smell the land before you see it. Spices. Trees. Smoke from a city you have never heard of.” His expression changed as he spoke, the same way it always did when he talked about the sea.
“There are places where the water is so clear you can see the bottom beneath the ship. Others where the sun does not seem to set at all.”
“It sounds very grand,” she said faintly.
“It’s not always grand.” His mouth curved faintly. “Sometimes it’s just wet, filthy, and miserable. But it is wide.”
He looked at her then.
“There is so much more than The Domus.”
Rose withdrew her hand from his arm. “The Domus is my home.”
“I know.”
“You don’t. If you did…” Rose blinked away the stinging in her eyes.
He stopped walking.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The path stretched around them, the ordinary sounds of the park carrying on as though Rose’s entire future had not just been pulled out from under her feet.
Then Reginald turned fully toward her. He took both of her hands in his. And squeezed them.
“Come with me, Rose.”
She stared at him.
“When The Gale sails,” he said, “I want you with me.”
The birds, the breeze, the distant carriages—all of it disappeared.
And for one, fantastical instant, she saw something else, something impossible. The deck beneath her feet. Sunlight scattered across a blue sea. Strange cities appearing, foreign lands. Reginald beside her.
And at night—
His cabin. His bed.
His hands upon her without money or duty between them.
Only…
Then what?
The image broke apart.
“What about The Domus?”
His face hardened—not against her, she knew, but with the resolve she’d come to recognize all too easily.
“I am closing it.”
Her fingers went rigid in his, and she slowly began shaking her head side to side. “You can’t. We still have time. You said—”
“It stays open until the end of the month,” he said. “I will keep my word on that.”
“But you have already decided.”
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation.
“No one will be in want,” he continued. “Each of them will receive a generous sum. Enough to live upon while she or he decides what comes next. Anyone who needs help finding a position or another home will have it.”
“But The Domus is our home!” Her family!
“It isn’t, Rose. Not truly. I cannot keep such a place open.” His grip tightened. “I cannot, Rose.”
She pulled once, but he did not release her. And she saw it, a look of pleading in his eyes.
“You don’t have to be alone. I won’t leave you behind.”
Rose blinked, and suddenly, the fantasy of the past few weeks fell away.
She’d been right to remind herself of the illusion. Nothing about their relationship had ever been proper. While she’d believed she was convincing him to stay, all along, he’d been paving the way to…
To rescue her?
He would demolish her home, cast her family onto the streets, and then carry her away from the wreckage?
She would have his protection, his ship, she’d sleep in his bed.
But she’d have nothing of her own.
No Nell. No Violet. No women who understood the things she did not need to explain. No room with a lock upon the door. No place to return to if—no, not if, but when—Reginald grew tired of her.
She would have him… for however long he wanted her.
“No,” she whispered. “Please.”
Pain crossed his face. His hands tightened around hers. “Come with me.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I know that I want you with me.”
As though that ought to be enough.
Rose stared at their joined hands, but she no longer felt his warmth. He was asking her to leave the women who had become her family. The only walls beneath which she had slept without fear since her grandmother died.
He thought he was offering her a future.
But he was also taking away her home.
“I gave you until the end of August.” His voice was rough.
“There is one week left, and I will honor every day of it. Nothing will change until then.” His thumbs moved over her knuckles, almost pleading.
“But my decision is made, Rose. When the month ends, the only decision left to be made will be yours.”
Whether she would leave with him.
Whether she could choose the man who’d deliberately destroy the place that had saved her. She could not imagine walking away from The Domus. And now, cruelly, she could not imagine remaining there without him.
Rose managed a nod.
Relief softened his face.
That was what broke her.
She pulled her hands from his and walked away before he could see that he was breaking her heart.