The Old Maids' Club 02 - Pariah (35 page)

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t sit through tea and make pleasant conversation and pretend her heart hadn’t broken into thousands of pieces when he’d let her walk away from him.

“I’m feeling unwell,” she said at long last, wishing her wobbling voice wouldn’t betray her. “I believe I’ll go up to my chamber and rest.”

She made it up to her room and closed the door before allowing the first tear to fall.

That had been on Friday. Every day for the next week, without fail, Roman arrived for tea with Aunt Rosaline. And every day of that week, without fail, Bethanne found some reason to avoid taking tea with them.

One time, Finn had hurt himself, and she claimed she must sit with him. Another time, she met with Miss Erskine, the new nurse whom Isaac had hired to look after Aunt Rosaline, going over her new responsibilities even though Isaac had already taken that task upon himself. He was only going to be at the cottage for a limited amount of time, after all. Bethanne would be in charge again at some point. The staff must know they answered to her. The next day, she’d taken the same tactic with Mr. Crandall, the new manservant who’d come over from Hassop House. Yet another time, she begged off due to not sleeping well and needing a nap herself.

She was quickly running out of viable excuses to avoid sitting with Roman for tea, though she was determined not to give up on the exercise too easily.

On Thursday, when Joyce knocked at the music room door and poked her head inside, Bethanne was fully prepared, however. “Teatime?” she asked in a singsong voice. “Delightful. Would you be a dear and prepare a separate tray for me to take up? I’d like to share it with Mrs. Wyatt. I fear she’s getting lonesome, not being able to get around very well.”

Joyce frowned at her. “You can’t avoid him forever, you know.”

Bethanne busied herself with clearing up the mess Finn had made with his blocks, so no one would accidentally stumble upon them. “I know,” she murmured. And she did know. She was also well aware of the fact that avoidance rarely solved anything and often created even greater problems. Her situation of late was proof enough of that fact. What had avoiding explaining things to her family solved? Not anything, really.

“Lady Rosaline seems to know herself today. Don’t you wish to spend time with her while she’ll know who you are?”

Of course, today would be one of those rare days in which Aunt Rosaline’s mind was clear. Bethanne felt like her heart was being ripped in two, with the desire to spend time with her aunt up against the need to avoid another rebuffing from Roman. She blinked back tears, because she refused to allow any more to fall on account of Lord Roman Sullivan. “I’m sure she’ll still be feeling much the same way after her guest has left.”

With a tsk, Joyce finally said, “Very well. I’ll do it for you this time. Tomorrow will be a different matter, entirely, however.”

Pursing her lips together, Bethanne nodded. Tomorrow would be a new day. She could face him tomorrow. Somehow.

Perhaps then she could face the reality of his rejection.

Mrs. Temple came into the parlor with her tea tray and set it down on the table. “I am so very sorry, Lord Roman, Lady Rosaline, Mr. Shelton. It seems Miss Shelton has promised to take tea with Mrs. Wyatt this afternoon. She wanted to keep her company, what with her broken leg and all.”

Of course, she did. That and she wanted to avoid Roman. He was no fool. He knew precisely why she hadn’t once joined them for tea in the last week.
This is not love.

“That is very kind of her, isn’t it?” Lady Rosaline said. “Quite thoughtful.”

Shelton met Roman’s eyes, his expression just as dubious as Roman’s mood.

Thoughtfulness likely had very little to do with her absence. His presence almost assuredly had a far greater effect upon her decision.

“Yes, well…” The housekeeper situated the final few items on the tray and then wiped her hands on her apron. “If you need anything else, just ring for me.”

She’d hardly been gone a few seconds when a knock sounded at the front door.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” Lady Rosaline asked her nephew.

Shelton shook his head. “Whoever it is, Crandall will handle it. Would you like to serve today?”

She set about preparing them all cups of tea and plates of sandwiches and biscuits. Before she’d gotten very far along, however, Crandall cleared his throat at the doorway.

“I do apologize, but there is a Mr. Talbot here to see you, Mr. Shelton. He says it cannot wait.”

Roman bit back an oath. What in God’s name did Talbot want now? The grocer was bound and determined to involve himself in matters which were none of his concern. He was a damned nuisance.

Shelton raised an eyebrow. “Anything I should know before I go speak with the man?”

Just that he believes your sister to be a lightskirt.
Roman kept that thought to himself. Now was neither the time nor the place for such a discussion, not with a clear-headed Lady Rosaline present. “It might have something to do with him refusing to honor your uncle’s line of credit for your sister,” he finally replied. Doubtless, that was one of the many items on Talbot’s agenda for the day.

“Ah. So he’s one of those…” Shelton stood and inclined his head to his aunt. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, Aunt. I’ll just make an appointment with Talbot to discuss whatever he wishes to discuss and be back to you in no time.”

“Of course,” she replied. “You might also deliver him a message from me?”

Shelton gave a wry grin. “And what might that be?”

“Tell that meddler to worry about his own affairs and leave my Bethanne alone, lest I decide to ride into town one day in breeches, plant him a facer, and smoke a cheroot over his bloodied body. That might give him a right good shock, if I do say so myself.”

Roman stifled a chuckle, but Shelton didn’t even bother to try—in fact, he let out a guffaw loud enough to rouse a sleeping army. “I have missed you, Aunt Rosaline.”

If this was what she’d been like before her mind started to turn, Roman could well imagine a great many people missed her. There was little wonder that Bethanne and the servants at the cottage were so loyal to her.

She winked and smiled at her nephew, and he left. Then she turned to Roman with a sparkle in her eye. “And don’t you doubt that I’d do it, either.”

“I wouldn’t doubt you for a moment, my lady. Tell me, do you ride astride when you wear your breeches?”

“I ride astride whether I’m wearing breeches or not. Dresses have never stopped me from doing anything I’ve set my mind to do.”

This time, Roman was unable to stifle his chuckle. “You would be quite a sight.”

“You’ve no idea.” A plaintive expression came over her eyes. She passed Roman a cup of tea and smiled. “You know, the first time my father caught me riding astride in my skirts was the day I’d gone off to kiss my beau before he left for the war in the colonies. I rode straight into the army encampment with my skirts pushed up past my knees so I could get my feet into the stirrups. That caused quite a stir amongst the soldiers.”

“If you had come into an encampment with my men in that manner, I can assure you, it would have caused more than just a stir.” An image of Bethanne atop a horse with her skirts up to her knees came into his mind then, along with the reaction a group of soldiers would have to such a sight. He’d have had to fight them off. Lady Rosaline’s beau must have been very confident in her love for him, to allow such a thing without feeling the need to kill half his battalion for daring to ogle his love.

Lady Rosaline gave a yearning sigh. “That was the last time I saw my Christopher. He lifted me down from my horse and kissed me so I felt it all the way down to my toes. And he told me he loved me and would be back for me as soon as he could, and then we’d marry.” She dabbed away tears with a handkerchief, and then sobered, looking Roman straight in the eye. “There is nothing—
nothing
—more painful than living without the person you love. You don’t know how long you’ll have with her. You’re wasting time and breaking my niece’s heart, and I’ll not stand for it.”

“You needn’t worry about Talbot any longer.”

Bethanne looked up questioningly upon her brother’s pronouncement. How could things possibly be settled with Mr. Talbot already? He’d only just met with the man yesterday afternoon and learned of all of the problems she’d had in town. The grocer seemed bent upon running Bethanne straight out of Hassop, and yet one conversation with her brother had relieved his concerns? It didn’t seem altogether likely.

Isaac took up his seat behind the desk which Roman had used for so long, across from her in the parlor. It still felt odd to see her brother there in place of Roman, though he’d been there every day for more than a week now. Isaac picked up a letter that Crandall had left for him and broke the seal, and Bethanne’s eye was drawn to his swollen hand. They’d both recovered from when he had struck her, so this was a new ailment.

He looked at Bethanne instead of reading his missive. “He’s reinstated Uncle Drake’s line of credit. I’ll come with you on your next trip into town. I understand there are a few other merchants who’ve caused you some…problems recently.”

A few
might be a bit of an understatement. Bethanne merely nodded.

“Well, I’ll take care of it. We should have handled it all along—Father or Uncle Drake or me, one of us. I’m sorry you’ve been left alone to face such unfair treatment.”

“I didn’t let anyone know it was happening, so it is hardly your fault.”

Isaac stared at her with that wise-beyond-his-years look he’d recently acquired. “And we all just accepted your letters as fact, without coming to check on things. For
years
. That is unacceptable, when you’ve been entrusted with Aunt Rosaline’s care. The whole family is to blame here, Bethanne, not just you.”

What he said might be the truth, but that didn’t make it any easier for Bethanne to accept. She swallowed convulsively.

A sheepish grin stole over his features, and he once again had the boyish look she’d been so accustomed to before her arrival at the cottage all those years ago. “I haven’t challenged anyone else to a duel if that’s what has you so upset, nor do I intend to do so any time in the foreseeable future. Although I must admit it was rather tempting with Talbot. Some of the language he used was not fit for a lady. Particularly unwise of him to cast stones when he lives in a glass house himself.”

A glass house? Bethanne narrowed her eyes, trying to sort out her brother’s riddle.

“He’s been consorting with a former maid from Hassop House, and didn’t want word to get out about that,” Isaac clarified. “For some reason, he thought tearing you down could help to elevate her within the eyes of the townsfolk, as ludicrous as that sounds. Nevertheless, we’ll just say he’s seen the error of his ways and will now repent.” Isaac contracted and stretched his swollen hand. He looked down at his letter finally and was silent for a few moments.

So not everything had changed, at least. Isaac was still the same rash, impetuous young man he’d always been. While she wished he wouldn’t resort to such measures to achieve his goals, it did settle her somewhat to know that the entire world hadn’t suddenly changed in the last week.

“Mother and Father send their love,” Isaac said a moment later, looking at her over the top of his letter.

Bethanne’s pulse pounded to a gallop, and she dropped her eyes to her hands, folded upon her lap. They all knew, now. There could be no more hiding.

“Uncle Drake agrees that adding Miss Erskine to the staff is a necessity at this point,” he continued, as though she were not in a state of panic.

She could do no more than nod to let him know she’d heard. Her tongue felt as if it has swollen and dried up completely at the news he was relaying.

“Since it is unwise to attempt travel with Aunt Rosaline in such a condition, the family will come here for a visit after Christmas.”

At that, Bethanne’s head shot up. They were coming to the cottage? Did Father intend to remove Finn from her care? Would they send her to a convent and have someone else handle Aunt Rosaline’s care?