Page 73 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
There was a collective sigh of relief in the room, and Becca sat back in her seat as she watched the two men together. They smiled and began to talk more freely now, somewhat at ease. As the room felt easier, Becca felt more distant from the rest.
It is time.She held onto this thought.We know all the secrets now. It’s time I got to work on writing and left William’s side.
Chapter 26
Becca put her empty teacup down on the table. Fresh tea and cakes had been brought. Sarah had been in awe of the wondrous cakes, and Lord Longfellow had insisted that he would lend them his own cook when they moved into their new house so she could continue to have such cakes.
William and Alexander talked extensively together, sharing more tea. Alexander wished to know more about George Dorset and frequently cursed at the man’s name, but William was more interested in hearing about Alexander’s life and how he had managed with the little money Lord Longfellow had given him to raise himself off from being a pauper boy to a successful clerk in a lawyer’s office.
Amongst all this chatter and smiles, it was easy for Becca to stand and leave the table. From the doorway, she glanced back, her eyes settling on William.
His manner was starkly different to how it had been for a number of days. To now have all the secrets laid bare, his body wasn’t tense, and he wasn’t half leaning forward out of his seat. Instead, he was sat back, his legs loosely crossed, and his teacup rested on his thigh.
He’s happy. As he always should have been.
She closed the door behind her and hurried through the entrance hall. By the door, she collected her pelisse and bonnet, pulling them on in haste. She was still tying the ribbon of her bonnet when someone appeared beside her. It seemed one person had noticed she left the room.
“Miss Thornton?” It was Mr. Fitzwilliam. “You are leaving?”
“I must.” She forced a smile. “It is time I parted.”
“But Lord Lancaster…he will want to see you before you go.”
“He has much to do now.” She paused, hesitating by the door. “There is much for them all to talk about and do. He will bebusy for some time, repaying the men his father defrauded, and I need to write about this tale. Please tell Lord Lancaster that I shall write to him once I have a full draft in the coming days. Once he is happy with the work, we can share it with the publisher you have found, too.”
“Miss Thornton—”
“I shall go now.”
“Miss Thornton.” He laid a hand on the door, stopping her from opening it. “I do not think for a minute that your relationship with my master is purely one of a writer. Please, at least leave me with something more I can say to him on your behalf. It will hurt him to know you have left so fast.”
He is right.
She fidgeted restlessly with her pelisse. There was so much she wanted to say to William, but now was not the right time. They’d said much of what they wished to say in the night, made love to one another, moaning one another’s names and tangling their bodies together in the sheets. Was that not the best way to say goodbye after all?
“Tell him…” She paused, looking up from her fidgeting hands. “Tell him I shall miss him.”
Mr. Fitzwilliam released the door in evident surprise, and she darted through as fast as she could before he could stop her again.
Hastening down the drive, she pulled the pelisse sharply around her shoulders, aware that the rain was coming again. It started slowly, but a light patter, but by the time she reached the gate, it was a full torrent of rain. She glanced back at the door from the gate to see that Mr. Fitzwilliam hadn’t left his place in the door. He stared out after her, as if he expected her to turn around and come back into the house, but she could not.
From this position, she saw the house in all its glory. The fine building was decked with beautiful architecture, high vaulted windows, and engraved stones. It was an expensive building, erected with the kind of money she would never know in her life.
This will be William’s home.
It was a reminder of how separate they were.
She raised a hand and waved at Mr. Fitzwilliam. He bowed to her so deeply that she flinched in surprise. He should not have bowed to a poor writer in such a way, but it seemed to be a mark of respect. She smiled at him through the rain, then turned and left through the gate, hurrying down the road.
She was a great distance away from her home, but to flag down a horse and cart now would be expensive to take her all the way home, and she didn’t carry much money with her. Instead, she kept to the edges of the road, holding the bonnet over her face as the wind threatened to snatch it away.
Other people on the road hurried back and forth to shelter from the weather. Those that had come out for market were packing their wares away. Crates of oysters were wrapped up in muslin, fresh bread was stuck in boxes, and newspaper boys did their best to shelter the ink-stained pages under the eaves of nearby houses to stop the ink from bleeding in the rain.
She walked through them all, trying her best to ignore the catcalling of those who were lambasting the rain, calling at one another to get out of this downpour fast. By the time she reached Covent Garden, the rain had seeped through her pelisse and gown, even through her chemise. She could feel the raindrops on her stomach, and that simple feeling reminded her of the way William had kissed down her abdomen the night before.
“Do not think of it. I cannot think of it anymore!” she hissed to herself. Yet her mind seemed to argue with her, insisting on returning to one thought only. More than once did she think of how William had whispered to her the night before;I wish we could marry.He knew as she did just how separate they were.
She didn’t look where she was going, and as she ambled through Covent Garden, she was not prepared for two ladies to dart out of the nearest shop door. They were running toward a carriage to shelter from the rain, though one, in her haste, moved so fast without looking that she ran straight into Becca.
