Chapter Twenty-One

The clock in the servants’ quarters had not long sounded nine when Rebecca heard the bell ring for Gregory. The guests were leaving, then. The Marquess’s valet had advised them of that last night, and Rebecca knew it was her fault.

It might have been easier to blame Liam’s outburst, but she couldn’t. The hours of fretful sleeplessness had shown her that. This—this entire mess—was her fault. Her shame, her embarrassment, Liam’s fracture with his friend—all of it—was because she’d not been strong enough to keep away from him.

All her life, she had prided herself on being a woman of honour, and dignity. It was all she’d ever had. Men and masters might control the lives of those beneath them, but they had no control over one’s heart, and self-respect. But now... Her actions had not only compromised her own honour, but also Liam’s.

Somehow, she knew Liam wouldn’t stop fighting what everyone else saw—knew. The Marquess, Mr Walton, even Thomas. They all accepted that this was how things were. That this was the way of the world. By fighting it, saying what he had, Liam had dishonoured himself—but not beyond reparation.

Men did not suffer the consequences of affairs as women did. He still had a chance to be seen as the lord he was—by his friend, by his servants and by society. If she was no longer part of the equation.

It was now up to her to set things to rights. Time for her to leave Thornhallow forever. After all, not only did their stations divide them, but also her past. What had happened, it precipitated things, but her leaving had never been in question. So, she would take a few days to gather what was left of her wits, then find somewhere quiet to go until she found a new position.

Before you make any more trouble. For any of them.

No one below stairs had said anything; they’d given her a wide berth, and quite a few supportive glances and small smiles. But while their loyalty bolstered her courage, and her pride, it was all just one more slash against her already breaking heart. Very soon, she would leave them, the closest thing to family she’d ever known.

You always knew it would come. This is your life. Better sooner than later.

Conscious that the current line of her thoughts was neither productive nor pleasant in any way, Rebecca rose from her desk. She decided she would go up and help the others clear the breakfast room, now the house was quiet again, and hopefully Liam was nowhere to be seen. It was as good enough an excuse as any to escape herself, and find something to occupy her mind.

The others were already well on their way to having the room cleared, but when they saw her arrive they tempered their haste, and took more time between each ascent and descent, returning only to collect the piles she’d gathered, until eventually, Rebecca was left alone to wipe, and sweep, and polish, for which she was grateful.

The bell rang at the front door, and she heard Thomas’s footsteps travelling across the hall. She gave no real thought to their visitor, half suspecting it to be Mr Bradley.

That was until she heard Thomas’s clear and commanding voice through the half-open door of the breakfast room.

‘His Lordship the Viscount Rochesdale,’ Thomas announced.

Oh, God, no...

Rebecca felt her stomach drop, her mouth go dry and her blood run cold. Had anyone seen her then, they would have seen her blanch, eyes darkening with terror. Clutching the edge of the table to keep upright, she knew she had to move, to run, but she couldn’t. Her mind was numb; her feet wouldn’t respond.

There were voices now, Liam’s and her prince’s. Francis Mellors, Viscount Rochesdale. She heard them, vaguely over the blood rushing in her ears, rendering her near deaf.

So he’d found her, then.

So quickly.

Was this her punishment? Her reckoning?

You knew you shouldn’t have come here. Too close.

A shrill burst of laughter tore her from her thoughts and shook her into action. She moved as quietly as she could from the room and down the stairs. Only when she was safely ensconced in her office did she allow herself to stop. She leaned against the door and slid to the floor, her legs now failing to support her.

The initial shock had passed, and now the reality of her situation came crashing upon her. Her prince was here. Fifteen years of running, of successfully evading the demon who sought to claim her, and now, here he was. In the one place she’d been foolish enough to believe for a moment was safe.

She let out a hollow laugh that was quickly followed by a pitiful sob. But she would not cry. She would not break. There was no time; she had to run. As always, without warning, without goodbyes. She would pack her bag, and disappear today. This instant. Leave Thornhallow behind. Leave Liam behind.

Already she’d suffered, knowing it was coming, that it had to be thus, and yet now, with the hour upon her...

God give me strength.

Steadying herself with a deep breath, closing her heart to the pain which threatened to overwhelm her, Rebecca pulled herself from the floor. Then, as though the hounds of hell were on her heels, she grabbed her travelling bag, and threw as many of her belongings as she could into it. There would be no taking the portmanteau, but she would make do. She had to.

Leaving her keys on the desk, Rebecca listened at the door for a moment to ensure no one was about. Only Mrs Murray could be heard, shouting her usual orders across the servants’ quarters. Quietly, Rebecca slipped out of her office, down the corridor and out the tradesmen’s entrance. Daring not even to take a final look, she scurried along the house, and across the park into the woods, before she could convince herself there might be another way.

Once in the shadow of the trees she allowed herself to breathe again, and prayed that she would make it far enough before anyone noticed she was missing.

Liam had stood beneath the portico and watched his guests—friends—depart, then remained there, staring at the empty drive for a long while after that for good measure, not even feeling the cold, his thoughts too entangled to allow him to feel or see anything beyond them.

Not even the copious amounts of liquor he’d downed last night had helped him find any rest. His own words, the look on Rebecca’s face and the conversation with Spencer had whirled endlessly in his mind.

What a right mess of things he’d made. He’d come to untangle himself, to free himself, and instead... He had wrecked what little he had left, and now he felt more lost than ever before.

When he’d lost Hal, it had been simple. He’d had to run. To leave this place, his father, the person he was destined to become. When he’d left Columbia, it had been simple. Return, and cut ties forever.

Now... He didn’t want to be Earl, but he would be. He could run, but the prospect tasted bitter. Even though Spencer had shown him he wanted absolutely nothing more to do with society. With that world, those people... To spend the rest of his life living as society prescribed, speaking and caring about nothing of importance, gliding through his days with feigned insouciance... There lay only madness.

Yet if he stayed... What choices then lay before him?

You have to tell her. You have to...say something.

Yes, Liam thought bleakly, wandering back into the hall distractedly. Through all his meanderings of the mind, only one thing was inescapably clear. He had to speak to Rebecca. Well, first, he had to apologise.

Beg forgiveness, more like.

Beg her forgiveness for shaming her, though he could not will himself to regret his words. Damning though they might have been, he realised the truth in them. Rebecca was mistress of Thornhallow. Mistress of him, and his heart.

He’d tried and failed so many times to distance himself, when he’d known from the first she would bewitch him. When he’d known the night he’d gone after her in the storm that to lose her would mean his own end, and not because of the guilt he would carry.

The past days, living here, in a world so separate from hers, so close and yet unreachable...it had been torture. And despite his reluctance last night, this morning had brought another certainty. He may not like the prospects he had to offer Rebecca, but he had to at least offer them. Hear her rejection of him, of his plans, in her own voice. He couldn’t take the choice from her.

The bell at the door echoed loudly in the otherwise silent hall, tearing Liam from his thoughts. Thomas swept to the door in a blur, and Liam moaned, rubbing his hand over his face, unsure he wanted—or was able—to deal with whatever this was now.

Can a man not get one moment of peace?

Sadly, neither could he find the will to move. He cursed his own body’s failure as Thomas stepped aside and admitted an unfamiliar, elegantly dressed fellow about his own age, who rather looked like a red squirrel.

Liam strode to the door as Thomas shut it, passing him the man’s card.

‘His Lordship the Viscount Rochesdale,’ Thomas announced.

‘Mellors is fine.’ The Viscount smiled sweetly, which did anything but endear him to Liam. ‘We are, after all, neighbours.’

‘Reid,’ Liam answered gruffly, extending his hand.

He vaguely remembered Rochesdale, somewhere on the other side of town, and who must have been the old viscount, one of his father’s acquaintances.

‘My apologies for arriving unannounced,’ Mellors said with false contrition. ‘I heard you were in residence and thought to introduce myself. Our fathers were friends once, and I hoped to lay the foundations of such a connection again.’

‘Indeed.’

Liam warred with himself. He didn’t want to invite Mellors in, foster any connections—but, as much as he despised having to be part of society again, he knew good relations with neighbours were always better for an estate.

Whether I am here or not.

He nodded to Thomas, who took the Viscount’s coat, gloves and stick, clenching his jaw as he resolved to entertain this unexpected guest for a short while before going to find Rebecca.

‘Have some coffee brought to my study.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Very kind,’ Mellors said with a bow of his head.

He looked a bit too much like the cat who’d got the cream for Liam’s liking.

Definitely should’ve sent him packing.

‘I do hope I am no imposition.’

‘Not at all,’ Liam said through gritted teeth, leading Mellors onwards.

Liar.

‘An impressive house,’ Mellors commented as they settled in his study, his eyes flitting everywhere, as if taking note of every speck of dust.

Of which, thanks to Rebecca, there are none.

Liam decided he didn’t like this Mellors much—and not solely because between the tailored silks and wool, and bejewelled fingers, he looked every inch the representative of all Liam generally despised.

‘Very...old-fashioned.’

Liam forced himself to return the sneer. ‘It was built by the first Earl of Thornhallow,’ he pointed out.

‘Naturally,’ Mellors conceded, a glint in his eye. ‘You should visit Rochesdale some time. Not as historical, but just as grand.’

I’d rather visit Gehenna.

‘Yes, I must.’

Liam was about to say Hang society, and put an end to this strangely off-tone conversation, when Mr Brown appeared at the door, sans coffee. The look in the butler’s eyes told him there was a reason for that.

‘If you will excuse me,’ Liam said, in what amounted to a gracious growl.

‘Of course.’

‘What is it, Thomas?’ he whispered as he reached the butler, shooting Mellors a falsely placating smile. ‘I swear, if you find an excuse to get me out of here, I will raise your salary to an obscene amount.’

‘There is something you should know, my lord,’ Thomas breathed. ‘Though I am not sure whether you will be so thrilled once you hear it.’

‘Out with it, man,’ Liam said sharply, giving the butler his full attention. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s Mrs Hardwicke. She’s gone, my lord.’

‘Gone,’ Liam repeated, uncomprehending, dread growing in his stomach. ‘What do you mean, gone?’

‘I happened to see her heading towards the village via the west woods, my lord. She had a travelling bag, and when I went to her office...I found these.’

Liam looked down at Thomas’s outstretched hand and saw Rebecca’s set of keys.

A hundred emotions and questions vied for attention within him but he pushed them all away, focused on only one thought: I need to stop her.

He looked at Thomas, and in an extraordinary show of opinion, the butler nodded and stepped aside.

‘I’m afraid a matter of urgency has arisen,’ Liam said to Mellors, who was on his feet in an instant. ‘You will excuse me. We’ll resume this another day.’

‘Of course.’ The Viscount bowed.

‘Thomas will see you out,’ he threw over his shoulder, already marching out of the room.

He marched straight to the stables, not even bothering to stop for his coat, borrowing instead the one Tim kept hanging in the tack room. Neither Tim nor Sam said anything as he strode past to get Orpheus, his expression warning against any interruption. He jumped bareback astride the stallion, the two grooms threw open the doors and Liam galloped out as though his life depended on it.

There was not a second to waste. He didn’t know what had prompted Rebecca’s hasty, and cowardly departure, for surely if this was about last night, she might have fled earlier, but he knew that he couldn’t let her go. Not like this.

He deserved more, something, anything, he thought as he rode across the park, caring little for his own safety. She was utterly witless if she imagined things could end like this. To think he would let them. To believe he could bear for things to end between them, and that he could part from her.

Liam slowed Orpheus as they approached the woods. He might not care about his own safety, but the animal had done nothing to deserve any further carelessness. Rebecca could not be much further. At least, so he hoped. He had no desire to offer the village a public spectacle. He needed to find her quickly, and bring her back before she could harden her heart any further against him.

I will not lose you, Rebecca.

Finally, just as he was beginning to lose hope that he would find her before she reached the village, Liam spotted Rebecca on the path ahead. He saw her turn, stumbling on some roots as she did, and felt his stomach flip when he caught her expression before she recognised him.

Utter terror...?

Liam slid off Orpheus as she turned from him, her pace quickening as she continued to flee.

Oh no you don’t, he thought, breaking into a run.

She must have heard him, for she, too, began to run, though luckily her bag and skirts impeded her.

‘Rebecca, stop, please!’ he shouted, easily catching her up. ‘Not like this!’

‘Go back to Thornhallow, my lord, I beg you!’

‘Damn it, Rebecca!’

‘Let me go!’ she screamed, even as Liam grabbed hold of her arm and whirled her around to face him. Tears were streaming down her face, though she was trying valiantly to fight them. ‘Let me go, Liam!’

‘At last we have dispensed with the my lords,’ he growled, grabbing her other arm, too. ‘You cannot fight me, so relent—please, Rebecca—and explain yourself! I at least deserve that!’

Her attempts at wrenching free ceased, and she slackened beneath his fingers, his touch alone keeping her upright.

‘If this is about last night—’

‘Liam...’

It was more a breath than a spoken word. His heart lurched as he searched her face, imploring her silently to look at him. She looked so defeated, so tired...

God help me. Please say I alone am not the cause of such pain...

‘Now. Tell me. What are you doing?’

‘Leaving,’ she said meekly. ‘I thought it obvious.’

‘Why?’ Liam asked, unable to conceal the pain in his voice.

There had to be something more to this—but what else could there be?

‘It’s time. You knew I would one day.’

‘Not like this. Rebecca, please, I beg you, tell me. I know something’s wrong—you won’t even look me in the eye, damn you!’

She did look at him then, and his heart broke with the pain and fear he saw in her eyes.

There is something more.

‘Why?’

‘I can’t,’ she breathed, her voice faltering.

‘I won’t let you leave like this, not until you tell me the truth.’

I won’t let you lie to me as Hal did and risk losing you.

‘I will drag you back if I must.’

Rebecca shook her head despondently and he felt her lose what little strength she had left. He guided her gently to the ground, and she stayed there, on her knees, until finally a sob wrenched free of her breast.

This most certainly wasn’t just about them.

This was worse, much, much worse.

‘Oh, God,’ Liam said, all at once understanding.

Only one other thing has changed...

‘It’s him, isn’t it? Mellors?’

Rebecca nodded, and he pulled her close against his chest. He let her cry all her tears, her sobs cutting through him like daggers, until she had none left to cry.

‘You should’ve said something, come to me... I would’ve...’

‘I swore I would quit the house if my secrets endangered it,’ she croaked.

‘It is not up to you to quit this house. He will never set foot here again—’

‘He knows!’ she exclaimed, and the terror in her voice shattered his soul. ‘If I stay, he will stop at nothing. I must go. It is time.’

‘It’s time when I say it is.’

Rebecca wrenched herself from him and stared at him reproachfully. ‘And when is that, my lord? When you are married? When more discover what has passed between us? When does it end—how does it end—if not now, like this? This story does not end well. We both know that. Now, let me go,’ she pleaded.

And even as he knew he should, as he could not before, so he could not now.

‘Please, Liam.’

‘No,’ he rasped, taking her face between his hands. ‘I cannot. God help me, I cannot.’

He pulled her to him then, and kissed her with fierceness and passion, possessing, demanding and unyielding. He would not let her go; he would end her torment and set her free, as he could not free himself. He would not think of what might come to pass, of how things might end. For now, he knew he would die if he released her.

And so he took everything she had left to give.

Took everything which meant she could leave him.

‘God help us both, Liam,’ she cried as he finally broke the kiss.

‘I will keep you safe,’ he whispered to her after a moment, his hands still clutching hers. ‘I swear it. We’ll find a way. Now, please, come home.’

Unable to speak, Rebecca simply nodded, and let Liam lead her back to Thornhallow.