Page 49 of An Amiable Foe
“I hadn’t noticed, but thank you. I wouldn’t want her to suffer.” She headed away from the entrance to where the storage room was, on the aisle that led off to the adjoining carriage house.
As she advanced, she passed a wooden crate on the floor with pieces of wood, including the unused spokes of a wheel. In their midst was one more polished than the others, and it had the jagged pieces of an end that had been broken off.
She stopped, her breath suddenly cut off at the sight. She reached out, taking the stick in her hand. Near the broken bit was a polished metal band with blue decorative markings, and the other end was the foot of a cane.
“Find it?” Robert’s voice reached her in the dim aisle.
Marianne returned to him slowly, carrying the cane. As she walked up to Robert and held it up for him to see, his features changed from confusion to recognition.
“What’s this, Robert?”
“How should I know?” He turned back toward Sweet Nips and rubbed her nose. “Looks like a cane to me. Or it was at one time. Not much good for anything anymore.”
She went directly up to him and lifted her face, so he would have to look at her fully. “Tell me this. Did you use this to break into my house?”
“Of all the harebrained things to say. Why ever would I do a thing? I can just come and knock on the front door if I want to see you.” He still wouldn’t look at her.
Marianne’s heart was thumping violently. “You did, though, didn’t you? You scared me out of my wits. Why did you do it?”
“You shouldn’t be living there.” The words came out in an explosion, and he turned to her, his brow lowered. “You’re not meant to be setting up house when you’re a chit of a girl. You should have seen that for yourself after living in a castle full of single gentlemen, but you’re too stubborn.”
“And so you thought you’d convince me by terrifying me?” Marianne’s voice matched his now. She seethed with indignation.
“It’s not so big of a deal. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.” Robert left her and strode toward the storage room with Marianne trailing behind.
“It’s a matter of honesty. How can I trust you about anything if instead of coming to my aid, you decide to render me more uncomfortable? You didn’t even have the courtesy to find me a footman when I told you I needed one.”
Robert grabbed the blanket and slid it under one arm, before going over to the bar that held the saddle which he took with both hands. He put the blanket and saddle over her horse and tightened the girth before turning to her.
“If you had come to stay with me, you wouldn’t need a footman. You would have had mine. And if you agree to marry me, I will do anything you say, Marianne. I’ll hire any servant you want. I’ll—” He reached out to seize her hands.
Marianne yanked her hands away and grabbed the reins to lead Sweet Nips over to the joss block. “I will never marry you, Robert. You should have believed me the dozens of times I have repeated it. I will never love you.”
She gave a signal to her nag, who seemed to sense her discontent and for once, moved at a faster pace than usual toward the stable exit. “And I never want to see you again.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
As Marianne rode toward the cottage, she wiped tears from her face. As much as she sniffled and tried to control her emotions, she could not. They overpowered her, and despite the recent encounter with Robert, she couldn’t help but blame it on Perry.
Where was he? She missed his presence in her life, and in his absence began to doubt whether the feelings he had declared for her were true. If they were, would he not have left something more concrete, more promising, in his note? Why did he have to leave at all?
Robert’s betrayal only drove home how alone in the world she truly was. One thing was certain. Robert had not only been heedless of her needs, he had betrayed her thoroughly and was not welcome in her life again. She felt some loyalty to Mrs. Vernon, but considering that she would not likely be able to visit her without being importuned by Robert, she considered the relationship to be finished.
She would not wish to tell his mother what he had done—and with his father being the magistrate? His was a punishable offense. Mr. Vernon would never be able to live with his own son committing such a crime. She would not betray Robert to his parents, thereby stooping to his level. If they wanted to know what he had done to deserve her disfavor, he would have to be the one to tell them.
She had continued to keep her horse in Brindale’s stables, although such a favor had not been specified in writing. What would happen should she ever be at odds with Perry? Or if he did end up renting out the castle as he had once declared he would do, would she even be allowed to use the stables? The level of doubt regarding Perry’s affection for her began to creep upward again. Her doubts and hopes were in constant fluctuation where Perry was concerned. Inside the stable, Marcus helped her to unsaddle her mare, and she thanked him before leaving for the direction of the cottage.
In the drawing room, Miss Fife was sitting in her usual chair. “You’ve returned. It is nearly time for dinner, do you not think?”
Her voice was once again sweet and not the captious tone she had used of late. The constant movement must be hard for someone her age, and Marianne made the decision to be more gracious with her companion for whatever time they had left together.
“I will see whether Sarah has anything on hand.” She paused and turned her gaze to Miss Fife. “Have you attempted to walk again without a cane to see whether your ankle is better? It seems it has been enough time for it to have healed.”
“Oh, I could not possibly attempt it again. I tried to put weight on it this morning, and it was agonizing,” Miss Fife replied with such emphasis Marianne decided she did not have the energy for the argument.
“I suppose we must have the doctor call, since it does not seem your foot is healing as it should.” She turned toward the door, preferring the company of Sarah in the kitchen.
The maid was humming as she stirred a soup that smelled delicious. A loaf of freshly baked bread sat on the rough wooden table. She turned when she heard Marianne come in.
