Regency Society. Ann LethbridgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
would need to find employment quite soon. Roxanne had packed her things, written her note and left in haste. She had not given a thought to what she would do in the future. Now she realised that she must begin working almost immediately. The ruby had gone and she was without friends. Her dream of becoming an actress must be put to one side for the moment. To eat and have a roof over her head, she must take any work that was offered.
She could not look for a position too close to the estate. People might know her and gossip and she did not wish to cause a scandal for Luke and the earl. There would naturally be some scandal when it was discovered that the engagement was over, but Luke could explain to his family that he’d been mistaken in her; they would sympathise with him and it would blow over after a few months.
Roxanne recalled that they had passed a staging inn on the way here. That meant that the mail coach would call there on its way to and from London. She might just have enough coins to travel a part of the way to London. She could find an inn or perhaps a farmhouse where they were looking for a girl to help with the chores. It was not the life she would choose for herself, but she must make the best of it until she could earn enough to set up for herself. Perhaps she could become a seamstress. She had some talent for sewing and she would prefer that kind of work.
She had left by a side door in order to avoid being seen and made her escape through the walled garden and out into a lane that led through the earl’s estate to the village. Once there she could find her way to the staging inn and then… Roxanne choked back her tears and looked about her.
The lane had come to an end. She must either cross over a stile and a meadow, which appeared to be filled with cows and what she thought might be a bull, or go through the wood. She’d imagined the way across the field would lead her to the village, but now she knew she was lost. Hesitating, she avoided the meadow and the bull, which was eyeing her in a way that she preferred not to challenge. If she kept walking, the wood must lead somewhere and eventually she would find a main road or a village where she could ask the way.
She had been walking in the cool shadow of the wood for some twenty minutes or so when she heard something rustling in the undergrowth and then a stick snapped. Someone was close by. She turned her head, eager to find whoever it was and enquire the way, and then something struck her on the side of the head and everything went black.
‘Fool,’ the voice said as a pair of strong arms caught her as she fell. ‘His Highness will be angry if you’ve harmed her. He gave orders that she was to be taken, but not harmed. May the goddess protect her and keep her from harm.’
Roxanne heard nothing of the argument that ensued, nor was she aware of being carried through the wood to where a closed carriage and four horses awaited. Although she was treated with respect after the first crashing blow, she had no knowledge of what was happening to her, her eyes closed and her face pale as the darkness held her mind.
‘What does she say?’ Luke asked as he watched the earl open his letter and read its contents. Discovering that no one had seen Roxanne, he had found the letter on the salver in the hall and taken it at once to his grandfather. ‘Has she gone away? Has she left me? I think she left nothing for me.’
‘What on earth did you say to her?’ Hartingdon handed him the letter after skimming its contents. ‘You have a careless tongue, but this was more than a harsh word, Luke. She begs my pardon for breaking her promise and regrets she must leave—though she promises to let me know how she is and to visit often if I wish it. Damn it, why does she need to ask? I did not wish her to leave me.’
‘It is my fault. My fault entirely,’ Luke said. ‘Forgive me for hurting you like this, sir. I know you care for Roxanne. I was abominably rude to her and I said things I did not mean in temper.’
‘She said we were very alike,’ the earl grunted. ‘I can imagine what you said, what you thought. You’re a damned fool, Luke. You’ve thrown away your chance of happiness, boy. Couldn’t you see that she was perfect for you? She loved you.’
‘I know, at least I thought…’ Luke caught his breath as the pain knifed through him. ‘It was fear of her love that made me cruel, sir. I didn’t want to do to her what my father did to my mother. I was afraid of hurting her, of breaking her fine spirit—and I’ve done just that, haven’t I?’
‘Your mother should never have married,’ the earl said. ‘I loved her, but she was a foolish silly girl and your father needed a woman with passion in her bones to help him forget. I should never have pushed them into marriage.’
Luke’s brows knit in a frown. ‘Help him forget—what? I do not understand you, sir.’
‘Your father married on the rebound, Luke. As a young man he was very much in love. Your mother liked him when they first met at a society ball, but he didn’t look at her that night. He was in love with Helene Digby, the woman he planned to wed, but she died of a sudden and terrible fever. I believe your father was with her, held her in his arms as she died. He never truly recovered from her death. A love like that comes but once in a lifetime.’
‘My father was in love like that—really, deeply in love? I thought him a shallow fellow given to affairs and not capable of love.’ Luke stared in disbelief, his memories in disarray.
‘He loved too deeply, that was his trouble,’ the earl said. ‘When I coerced him into marrying my daughter he told me that he couldn’t love her. I thought it an ideal marriage for my silly girl. She would live here with me, give me an heir for the estate, and her husband would go his own way. My silly Sarah couldn’t let him go. She didn’t truly enjoy the physical side of marriage, but she wanted a romantic husband to fuss over her and bring her presents. Clarendon wasn’t that kind of man. If she’d had passion in her, she might have held him, but she didn’t and so he broke her heart with his affairs. She should have let him go, been content with what she had, but she demanded too much of him.’
‘Good grief.’ Luke sat down heavily, his legs going weak as the shock went through him. ‘I had no idea. All these years I’ve thought…’
‘You thought you were shallow and worthless and I let you believe it. Instead of appreciating your qualities, I drove you away, blaming you for what your father did to my silly girl. It wasn’t his fault and it certainly wasn’t yours, Luke. I don’t believe you take after either of them. You’re like me—Roxanne knew it instinctively and she loved us both.’
It was like a light breaking over him, the realisation that he loved Roxanne with all his heart. Tortured by his memories that were false and seen through the eyes of a child, who did not understand what was happening between his parents, he had fought against his love for her. When he realised there was no longer a reason to hold her to her promise, he had lashed out in fear and despair, driving her away.
What had he done? All he had ever secretly longed for and needed had been within his grasp and he had thrown it away.
‘I am a crass fool and I have to pray that she will forgive me.’
‘She might if you can find her,’ the earl said and frowned. ‘You rode to the village and enquired, but no one had seen her?’
‘One of the gardeners thought he saw her in the lane that leads to the meadow where the cows are. If she’d crossed that, she would have come out on the high road and followed the signs to the east, but there is also the wood and if she took that route she might end up on the road north.’
‘Where would she go?’
Luke moved his shoulders negatively. ‘She was heading for London when I first met her…’
‘You must find her,’ the earl said urgently. ‘Don’t blame yourself for the whole, Luke. I made her promise not to tell you that I knew the truth. I am as much to blame as you are in this.’
‘No, sir. Roxanne certainly didn’t run away from you. I’m the one that hurt her. I intend to find her, however long it takes me, and when I do I shall beg her to return, but it may be too late. Some things are unforgivable and, in truth, I do not deserve her forgiveness.’
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