Page 86 of Duke of Emeralds
Hester felt a prickle along her arms. “If it is about the accident, I am sorry to have caused such a fuss.”
Thomas shook his head. “Not that.”
She drew herself up, spine rigid. “Is it about Bella? Or the servants?”
“You said once that you do not desire a true marriage. That we should not interfere in one another’s affairs, and no children.” His words were slow, each syllable like a stone in the air.
Hester’s throat closed. “I remember.”
He went on, “It has been almost two months, and the Season is drawing to a close. We have made the necessary public appearances. There is no further reason to keep up the act.” He stared at the window and not at her. “You may remain here in Lushton House if you wish, and when you travel to Dorset, Lushton Castle is there for ye.”
Hester’s hands went numb. “What are you saying, Thomas?”
He flinched at that, but his voice did not waver. “We will live separate lives henceforth, Hester, and Arabella will stay with you as we agreed.”
She tried to speak but found her tongue stuck. “And where will you go?” It sounded petulant, even to her own ears.
He did not look at her. “Ye need not worry where I will be. I assure ye that I shan’t be in yer path.”
“You wish to live apart,” she said, as if it needed repeating.
He nodded.
“And if I wish to stay?”
His head jerked up, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. “Do you?”
She opened her mouth then shut it. “If I wished it, would it matter?”
He did not answer, and in the silence, she realized that the question was not for him but for herself. She searched his face, looking for a crack, a sign that this hurt him even a fraction as much as it did her.
Hester found nothing.
“Very well,” she said, her voice thin and strange. Her anger grew, crowding out the pain. “Are you punishing me for the accident? For being foolish?”
“I am punishing myself, Hester. Not you. I am sorry for—” He stopped, the words breaking off. “It’s for the best.”
She thought of the long, empty hallways of the castle, the echo of footsteps, the way her own mother had disappeared into the shell of herself when her father died. The thought of living likethat, every day, was a terror greater than anything she had ever known.
She wanted to say,Stay. I want you to stay. I do not want to be alone.
But the words would not come.
Instead, she forced her features into stillness. “Thank you for telling me plainly. I appreciate it.”
He nodded, once. “I will leave ye to rest.” He turned for the door then stopped with his hand on the knob. Thomas turned slightly, as though he had more to say, but then he turned the knob and left.
He left.
Hester stared at the empty air where he had stood. The room felt larger now, and colder. She pressed a fist to her mouth and bit down, hard, to keep from making any sound at all.
It is what you wanted,she told herself.This is what you asked for. There is no reason to mourn the loss of a thing you never believed in.
That evening, Hester stood at the top of the staircase and watched as the footmen dragged Thomas’s trunks down to the foyer. It was raining—of course, it was—and Thomas was already in the carriage.
She told herself she did not care. That he had done her a favor by leaving so efficiently, with no protracted farewells or hollow assurances. Yet she watched from the shadows with her chin resting on the banister, feeling as though she was losing a part of herself.
The carriage did not move for a moment, as if waiting for her to bolt down the steps and beg forgiveness or perhaps simply to confirm that she had seen him go. She refused to give it the satisfaction. Hester turned, climbed back to the landing, and shut herself in her chambers.
