Page 66 of The Courtship Trap
Sophia made a sound of disapproval. “And yet, despite all that, she lost it.”
“Because of her husband,” Richard confirmed. “A faithless, feckless bastard who, after years of living off her hard work, wagered the entire tavern away in a game of dice. And when the deed passed to another man, he abandoned her altogether, leaving her with nothing.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “And what became of her?”
“She was reduced to being a mere barmaid in the very tavern she had once run. Forced to serve the new owner, to watch him reap the benefits of what she had built.” Richard shook his head. “She had nothing left. No property. No security. Just her wits and her resolve.”
Sebastian leaned back against his chair, considering. It made sense now, why Finch carried herself with such authority, why she seemed so ferociously loyal to Harriet. She knew what it was to have everything taken from her, to be left at the mercy of others. Harriet had restored something she had lost—dignity.
“So Harriet offered her the position of housekeeper?” Sebastian guessed.
Richard nodded. “And Finch, after a bit of skepticism, accepted. I do not think she trusted Lady Slight’s motives at first, but she saw something in her, just as Lady Slight saw something in her.” He gestured an open hand as if presenting an explanation. “That was when it started.”
Sebastian frowned. “What started?”
“This idea of hers—that she could not undo the past, but perhaps she could do some good going forward. If she could notatone for her own mistakes, then perhaps she could offer a place for others who had been wronged. Women who had been cast aside, abandoned, or left with little means to make an honest way forward.”
Sebastian exhaled slowly, his thoughts turning over. So Harriet had been trying to change, to build a better life. But why had she never told him? Why had she lied, deceived, and made such a mess of things?
And why, despite everything, did he still want to believe in her?
Finch sniffed,folding her arms over her stout chest, reminding Harriet once again of a general surveying an ill-disciplined army. “All men are naught but shite,” she declared with years of bitter experience behind her.
Belinda choked on a sip of tea, while Evaline politely hid a smile behind her teacup. Jem, wide-eyed, merely nibbled on a biscuit, absorbing the housekeeper’s words as if they were gospel.
Harriet, however, merely sighed and rubbed at her temples, knowing better than to engage Finch in a debate when she was on one of her tirades.
“Oi’m sure Lady Slight did nuffin’ wrong,” Finch went on, her voice rising with righteous fervor. “An’ if she did, it were only ’cause that man o’ hers put ’er up to it. So, really, it’s ’is fault after all.”
Harriet opened her mouth to protest, but Finch was just getting started.
“Ye think Oi don’t know ’ow men operate? Bah! Oi spent years servin’ ale to the sort what swore undyin’ love in onebreath an’ were slippin’ a ring on some other wench’s finger in the next. Sweet words, false promises, an’ when they’ve wrung ye dry, they move on without so much as a backwards glance. An’ let’s not forget my own bleedin’ ’usband—may ’e rot wherever ’e ended up—who took me life’s work an’ tossed it aside like a scrap o’ spoiled meat!”
She gave a disdainful snort, as though just the memory of him were enough to turn her stomach. “Mark me, m’lady. Men’ll blame ye for their own shortcomings, then leave ye to clean up the mess they made!”
Harriet listened to Finch’s tirade, but inwardly she argued against it. Sebastian was not like other men. He had never been like the men Finch spoke of, had never been careless with her feelings or dismissed her as unworthy. Even now, after all the pain she had caused him, after the mistakes she had made, his anger stemmed from hurt rather than cruelty.
He had never abandoned her, not truly. Not when they were young, not now. Even when she had given him every reason to walk away, some part of him had still wanted to believe in her.
She had ruined that today.
“Mark me,” Finch went on, still railing, “this is why a woman’s better off without ’em. No grief, no betrayal, no bloody ’eartbreak.”
Harriet exhaled slowly, turning her teacup between her hands. No grief? No heartbreak? Finch was wrong about that.
The absence of love did not protect one from pain. She had spent years keeping the memory of Sebastian at arm’s length, believing she was guarding herself against heartache, but in the end, it had found her anyway. And it was a thousand times worse knowing she had done it to herself.
Richard leaned forward,his expression grave.
“I must ask for your discretion in this matter, Sebastian,” he said quietly. “What I am about to tell you is not my story to share, but I believe you need to understand.”
Sebastian, still brooding over Harriet’s duplicity, gave a sharp nod. “Go on, then.”
Richard hesitated for only a moment before exhaling and rubbing a hand over his face. “It is about Lady Wood.”
Sebastian blinked in mild surprise. Lady Evaline Wood was an ever-present shadow at Harriet’s side—polite, unassuming, and often overlooked in a room full of louder personalities. He had thought little of her, beyond the fact that she seemed a steadfast companion to Harriet, a chaperon with the proper pedigree. Now, Richard’s tone told him there was far more to her story than he had ever suspected.
“You know that her husband died last year?” Richard asked.
