Page 69 of The Earl's Disguised Governess
“Ernest—please, you must understand. What I did was only for you. You deserved a better life than that townhouse and playing the role of a medic. I needed to rescue us both.”
He stepped towards her. Her expression flickered. “How did you rescue us?”
He saw the moment his mother gave in. Her lower lip trembled, and she sagged against the chair she had been in. “When I learned of my brother’s illness and terrible battle with consumption, he begged me not to contact Matthew or Honora. He said they would catch it and be at risk. He asked me to send for a physician at once.” Her head cocked as she told her tale, and dread pitted in Ernest’s stomach. “Instead, I simply sent for his son and daughter-in-law and did not send for a physician. I saw an opportunity when it arose. Ernest, tell me you understand why I acted in such a way. I did not think they would die. I merely thought that my brother would recover, and after seeing how well you would take over the estate while he recovered, he would see what a good choice it would be to let us live here once again. I quarantined with Lady Florence to protect her.”
“Mother, did you know they would all die?” he choked.
But she shook her head. “I did not. I simply thought to have them all out of the way temporarily, to give you a chance to prove yourself.”
He did not believe her. Perhaps, at first, she had not thought to be terrible, but over time, it was as though her choices had hardened within her, and she now claimed them as rightful. A meaningful sacrifice for him to take glory.
“This is why you push Lady Florence? Why you yell at her? And why you tried to force me into a marriage with Lady Samantha?”
She shrunk back, nodding.
“You have tried to control everything to alleviate your guilt.” He shook his head. “Well, Mother, you have your wish. I am the earl, but I do not wish to be. I do not like this life. But Claire makes it bearable. I do not need your reconciliation in trying to meddle with my life. I am well old enough to choose my own paths. Do not attempt to contact me while in London, and do not expect to receive word from me for a long, long while.”
“Ernest—”
He shook his head, turning to leave the drawing room. “Your tyranny must end, and I will keep Lady Florence and Claire safe from you. For good. I do hope this large, empty house is worth it during the next few months.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away from her.
Chapter 26
London had dazzled Claire for a week, but for Ernest, it had been a week of not knowing what to do. She watched him wander from room to room in the townhouse, vacantly silent, and Claire had done everything she could to bring him back to himself.
She dined with him, strolled with him around London, and had even been to his favourite bakery that he had told her about.
Still, it was a slow process to get him to smile at her and speak properly again.
She sat with him in the townhouse garden, enjoying a pleasantly mild day. The snow was melting around them, and the sun was showing its face slightly. She delighted in its warmth, no matter how brief.
“I just cannot believe it,” Ernest murmured, gazing off. “I cannot bring my family back, nor undo what my mother caused, but the lengths she went to … It is rather barbaric even though no true crime was committed.”
“It is awful,” Claire agreed. “And a lot of her actions make sense. She has been obsessed with wealth and prosperity fora very long time. Even Winnie has complained about the high standard she demands of her maids.”
She reached over to take his hands in hers. “Ernest, is there anything I can do? I hate to see you so … Not yourself.”
“It will take time for me to truly recover,” he murmured. “But I shall get there.”
“I do not wish to rush you,” she assured him. “Although there is a play tonight in London proper that I wanted to ask to attend.”
“Is Lady Florence interested?”
“I was actually hoping it would just be you and I,” she admitted, biting her lip.
“Oh.” He blinked, smiling in that small, playful well she had missed. “I would very much like that, Miss Gundry. But what will the Ton say?”
She gasped teasingly. “Oh, dear, Lord Bannerdown. They might chase us right out of London!”
Her teasing was enough to get him out of his reverie and laughing quietly. There was still a sense of vacancy in his eyes, but she was glad for the singular brief moment of laughter.
“Is anybody out here?” a male voice called from within the house. “Your housekeeper has sent me right in.”
“We are out here, Father,” Ernest called, standing up. Claire did the same, tucking her hands before her as her eyes fell on a man who emerged from within the townhouse. He looked exactly like Ernest but older, grayer, and with a thin moustache. He had kind old eyes as if he had seen plenty yet managed to keep such tenderness about him.
Claire smiled, curtseying.
