Page 67 of Love Abandoned

Chapter Thirty-One

The silence that is in the starry sky,

The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

—Wordsworth, “Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle upon the Restoration of Lord Clifford, the Shepherd, to the Estates and Honours of his Ancestors”

Sophia had expeditedElizabeth’s departure, declaring she, too, would like to return to the country and insisting she needed to put some distance between the duke and his persistent intentions. Elizabeth suspected Sophia exaggerated for her sake, but she was grateful for the offer to leave London quickly. It was also a much better solution, as the Walfords would have had to go far out of their way to bring her to Thornwood Manor, whereas Sophia lived on a neighboring estate. Richard could keep his coach. He could keep everything for all she cared. She could not get far enough away, nor accomplish it fast enough.

In truth, she’d wanted her departure to wound him, but he’d seemed impervious. He’d dispassionately insisted the entire staff return to the manor and, as if she could not be gone soon enough, had piled them into carriages and sent them off early in the morning. With the exception of Hannah, Lucy, and Gordon, who had taken Sebastian out to the Thornwood carriage and were waiting for William. It would follow Sophia’s. Her composure brittle, Elizabeth stood with William in the entranceway as Richard gave final instructions to Simon.

“You are the man of the house when I am not there,” Richard said, kneeling to look William in the eye. “You must be good and take care of your brother.” He paused and cleared his throat. “And your mother.”

William nodded sagely, as Elizabeth bit her lip and stared at the wall, refusing to let him see how this departure pained her.

“Papa, will you come soon?”

Richard stood. “I’m afraid parliament will keep me here for some time. I will write to you.”

“But I can’t read,” William said, tears brimming in his eyes.

“Hannah will read it to you. Or your mother will.”

Elizabeth knew Richard was staring at her, but she did not look directly back at him. Anger and anguish clashed within her, but she refused to speak about either. If he could so coldly let them leave, then she would remain equally impassive. Let him feel the full import of her chilly demeanor.

He sighed heavily. “Safe journey,” he said, and Clarkson, who was remaining behind to take up Hastings’s role, opened the door for them. Richard put his hand on William’s shoulder. “I hope to see you in late spring.”

The sun hurt her already stinging eyes as they stepped outside. Sophia’s coach was loaded with chests, followed by the Thornwood carriage, which was also fully stacked. William’s pony, tethered to the back of the carriage, whinnied. William waved at it and paused. He yanked free of her hand, spun around, and ran up the steps.

“Papa!” he shouted, and Richard stepped into the doorway. “I have a name for my pony! Hope. Her name is Hope. I will think of you coming in spring every time I say her name.”

He threw his arms around Richard’s legs, and Elizabeth could watch no more. Richard would see William into Hannah’s capable hands. She climbed into the coach beside Sophia and sat stiffly as they pulled away. She did not peer out the window. She could not look at Sophia. Any sympathy, and she would break. Crumble. Shatter into a million jagged pieces like her heart had already done.

*

“Are you sureyou would not prefer to stay with me?” Sophia asked for what must have been the tenth time. “You will be lonely, no?”

The servants’ coaches had managed a half day advantage on them, and the courtyard was alive with movement. The house towered imposingly, its dark exterior a reflection of her mood. But she knew these walls well and hoped to find some comfort within them. At least here she would not have to daily face gossip or pity. Or Richard.

“I am used to lonely,” Elizabeth said and hugged Sophia. “Thank you for listening to me these past days. Thank you for being my friend.”

“Always,mia amica.” She kissed each of Elizabeth’s cheeks and stepped back. “In times of need, we must be there for one another, no?” She turned and got back into her coach, leaning out before her man had a chance to close the door. “I will give you a few days to lick your wounds. But no more. We will come together and find a way for you to heal.”

Elizabeth nodded, although she knew there was no healing in her future. She waved as Sophia’s coach pulled out. After it had passed through the courtyard arch, she turned to the manor. Once her haven, it had become a prison in the last few years. One she’d believed she’d been freed from. It would seem she’d been wrong.

Exhausted from travel, William had gone to bed early, so she took her meal alone in the dining room, Richard’s ancestors staring morosely at her from the paintings on the wall. Afterward she went to Richard’s study and poured herself a sherry before heading to her room. She’d dismissed Lucy earlier, not only to let the poor girl get settled and organized for life at the manor but because she wanted no idle chatter this night.

Tomorrow she would throw her shoulders back and soldier forward as she had always done. The boys, and the orphanage, would fill her days. She stared out at the lake in the distance, the moon shimmering across its surface, its invitational magic a mockery of her reality. What would now fill her nights?

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