Page 47 of An Amiable Foe
Marianne broke open the seal, turning away from Charlie so she could read the words in private.
Dear Marianne—
Forgive me for this short letter, but I am writing it in haste. I have decided that I must leave Brindale without delay. I have not behaved properly toward you, and I feel I must go away for a time so I can set all to rights.
Yours,
Perry
Charlie waited, but Marianne was incapable of saying anything further. She looked up blindly, her gaze fixed on the dark staircase that was familiar to her but no longer home. He did not behave properly… Did that mean he regretted their kisses? He was going away to set all to rights? What did he mean by that?
“Shall I inform Lord Steere of your arrival?” Charlie asked again.
That shook Marianne out of her stupor. “No. There is no need to disturb his lordship.”
She drew a breath and turned toward the door. After the previous discussion they’d had before she left for the cottage, a conversation with him was the last thing she wanted. The sound of the door to the library opening informed her that it was too late for her to leave unnoticed.
“Miss Edgewood.” Lord Steere waved toward the drawing room. “Please. Come sit with me so we might have a few words. I will be leaving Brindale shortly.”
Although Marianne could think of nothing they could have to say to one another, neither could she think of anything in the way of excuses. She nodded and followed him numbly into the drawing room. She still could not fathom that Perry had left Brindale without coming to see her after what they had shared. He must be going for some good purpose. She hadn’t thought him the type to kiss her if he did not have any serious intentions toward her, but now she could no longer be sure.
“You came to see Peregrine, I am guessing.” Lord Steere gestured for her to sit, then took the armchair across from her.
Marianne wanted to dissemble—after all, it was none of his business—but her brain was not sharp enough to do so. “I did.”
“Well, you must know that he has left Brindale for some time. He surprised me when he informed me of it this morning, for it was not planned. But since I am leaving myself, he did not fear I would suffer an inconvenience by it. I must own that I am gratified he has heeded my wishes concerning his future.”
He paused to look at Marianne and did not seem put out when she kept her lips firmly closed.
“When he returns to London, as I encouraged him to do, he will see that there are women more suitable to fill the position of wife to a future baron. And I think you will agree with me as well, when you find a local gentleman farmer who will not cause you to suffer any discomfort by having to perform in high society. Trust me when I say you will thank me for it when the day comes.”
Marianne stood. “You have made your position clear, my lord. Good day.”
Lord Steere looked up in surprise, his brows drawn together. He swiveled in his chair to face her. “Ah, you’re going, then? I would like a tea tray sent. Have the goodness to order one, would you?”
She didn’t bother to answer as she turned to leave. He would soon discover that no tea tray had been ordered and would have to bestir himself.
The sun streamed bright through the honeycomb panes of the window, giving the drawing room more cheer than usual. Was it her father’s playful presence trying to pierce the spirit of misery that had enveloped her? She had trouble believing it so. One outgrew such fancies, she supposed.
Marianne exited into the hall, hoping she could hide the sinking of her heart from the servants who knew her too well. She forced her shaking limbs to move toward the exit, when she stopped suddenly, struck by a realization. The baron might take his frustration out on the servants if he did not receive a tray of tea, and she did not want them to suffer from her fit of pique.
In the kitchen, Mrs. Malford was kneading pastry dough, but one look at Marianne caused her to stop and wipe her hands on the kitchen towel. “Miss Marianne, what is it?”
Marianne attempted a smile and shook her head. “Lord Steere has asked for tea. Can you send Annabel up to pour it? I, myself, cannot stay.”
Mrs. Malford studied her face for a moment. “Mr. Osborne has left the castle for a time. I believe ye know it?”
Marianne nodded. “Charlie told me.”
“Before he left this morning, he came into the kitchen and said that ye are to view the castle as quite yer own in his absence.”
Marianne raised her eyes to Mrs. Malford, her heart a degree lighter for the first time since she had heard the news. He would not have said that if he didn’t have consideration for her, would he? The lift of encouragement brought her lips up in a smile.
“Thank you, Mrs. Malford. I will visit the castle as he suggested, then. Perhaps I can be of some use to him.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
The next two days moved at a slower pace than Marianne had thought possible. Any progress she determined to make in the cottage or garden never seemed to come to fruition. She found herself sitting and staring off into the distance, unable to find the motivation to do anything.
