Page 27 of The Baroness of Sin
“Has it been that often?” James asked, more surprised than before.
“Enough that Amanda has been lonely.” Miss Blake looked thoughtful for a moment. “She has been sitting in her room and writing a good number of letters as of late.” Before James could comment on the state of his daughter, Miss Blake continued, “Which reminds me, Lady Carrington’s lady maid dropped this off earlier.” She pulled out a small, folded note addressed to the Lord of Barristen.
James smiled and took it from Miss Blake. “Thank you. Most likely an invitation, but if what you say is true, I might have to rethink accepting it,” he said a bit sheepishly. He was actually considering having a talk with Amanda rather than declining. As he glanced down at the note, his face changed from mildly concerned optimism to complete dismay.
Lord Barristen,
I had ever so much fun with you, but I think it's time we part ways. I am returning home to spend time with my family and am unsure when I will return as I have grown tired of London. This seems to be as good a time as any to end things. I have grown tired of our game as I am sure you have too. That's just the way these things go.
Lady Carrington
James was upset. He knew he shouldn’t have been upset. Wasn’t that the point of all this? To have what they needed from each other without becoming attached? He had enough heartbreak in his life, so this arrangement with Martha truly was the perfect solution, and it had gone exactly as it was supposed to.
So why did it feel like James had his heart ripped out?
“My Lord? Is everything all right?” Miss Blake asked him, and he felt her delicate hand supporting his shoulder.
He pulled away from her touch. He didn’t want to be touched, now or ever by anyone again. It only ended in pain.
“I’m fine.” His own voice sounded distant in his ears. “You can go back to attending to my daughter.”
“Weren’t we discussing the possibility of you spending more time with Amanda?” Miss Blake pressed, but her voice grew weaker, and James turned from her.
“I will speak with her in my own time. For now, I wish to be alone. Please, leave me.” His voice wasn’t particularly demanding, but he moved to sit at his desk, and he did not turn back around. The conversation was over.
* * *
Martha watched Barristen Manor slowly get smaller as the carriage carried her, Benjamin, and her aunt back home. The ride was a somber one. Martha was experiencing a sadness that she couldn’t articulate to the others. Barbara seemed to have no inclination for discussion as things were anyway.
As if to add insult to Martha’s somber mood, it began to rain. The rain built, slowly but steadily, until one could barely see more than a foot in front from the carriage windows.
Martha spent much of the trip thinking about James. She hoped he wouldn’t be too cross about her sudden absence. Her note explained that she would be back as soon as she figured everything out.
Strangely enough, Martha wasn’t as worried as she thought she would be when it came to the confession she left behind for James. She normally would have been, opening up as she had, but she had come to trust the Earl, both with her personal safety and her heart. Perhaps that was what came naturally when one took on a lover, but Martha couldn’t be too sure. That was the whole of the problem, wasn’t it?
The ride was normally quite long, but Martha had to be shaken from her daze by her aunt’s gentle touch for her to realize that they had reached their destination. They ran inside, neither Martha nor her Aunt were dressed for the rain, and if they weren’t careful, the dye would run on their clothes.
“Missing your large home yet, My Lady?” Barbara asked her as they stood in the entryway.
Martha shook her head. “Not particularly. Being a lady with a manor is nice, but I have always loved our home here.”
“Still, you don’t necessarily seem happy to arrive,” her Aunt commented through thin lips.
“I am,” Martha assured her, and she was. It wasn’t that she preferred her rich manor. Her home was hers, and she had the final say in all matters and regards. Back in the country she felt like a little girl again, and being under her family's roof, while comforting in its own way, made her feel fairly powerless.
Once she was back in her childhood room, comfortable, warm, and dry, her thoughts once again drifted back to the quagmire of Lord Barristen.
And it was in this chamber of the mind that Martha would dwell for several days. She came out of her thoughts on occasion, much in the same way that she left her room to take meals and exchange polite words with Emma when she arrived, but that was that. She had come here with a task, a taxing one at that, and was determined to see it through.
The problem was every time she considered the problem in her head, she would get stuck. What was there to do? She had broken her only rule for this arrangement; she had let the situation get to her heart. Should she then break it off? That would be the obvious and logical thing to do. But each time she considered ending her arrangement with Lord Barristen, her heart would ache so much that it would almost bring tears to her eyes. Her mind knew what the solution to her problem was, but her heart wouldn’t let her go through with it.
“But what were your other options?” her mind would ask her heart. “You knew what was at risk, and you were the one who was broken. How could you do that all over again?”
But the heart had an answer, so obvious she was amazed she had missed it, yet so daring she shuddered at the idea. An idea she knew she had no other hope but to try.
Chapter Twenty
The Lord of Barristen was all out of sorts. The lovesickness that had struck him only a short time ago had left his servants concerned, but this bout of depression caused them to whisper to one another in dreadful worry.
