Chapter 16

When Marian woke the next morning, she was surprised to find she was not in her usual room in the Duke's mansion — and even more surprised to find that she was not alone.

The third — and biggest — shock came when she tentatively tried to disengage herself from Andrew's arms, which were wrapped tightly around her, and discovered herself to be totally unclothed.

"Oh my!"

With a shriek which made Andrew sit bolt upright in a panic, Marian leapt from the bed, blushing furiously, and with the blanket wrapped tightly around herself to protect her modesty.

Not that there's much point in that now, I suppose.

"Please, Marian," Andrew said, realizing the reason for her distress. "Do not upset yourself on my account. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Marian, who had just started to recall the events of the previous night, blushed even harder as she prepared to run from the room. But something about the look on the Duke's face stopped her in her tracks.

"Please, Marian," he pleaded softly, "don't leave me like this."

Marian paused at the closed door of the bedchamber, her mind still whirring with the memory of all that had happened since she had arrived here. While the previous night, and the things she and Andrew had done together, still dominated her thoughts, however, there was one other memory that stood out to her, prompted by his words.

Leaving. I'm leaving this morning. And I will likely never see him again.

Hot tears sprang into her eyes, and she turned to face the Duke, seeing her own emotions echoed in his.

"We must have no regrets, my dear," he said, crossing the room to take her in his arms. Leaning down, he kissed her so tenderly that Marian completely forgot her earlier embarrassment, thinking only of him and how soon they would be parted.

"I have none," she said fiercely as he pulled reluctantly away from her. "I refuse to regret anything I have done, for these past few days with you have been some of the happiest of my life."

"You do not need me to tell you that it's been the same for me," Andrew said, stroking the hair back from her face. "You already know it to be true."

They kissed again, Marian's face still wet with tears.

"I wish I didn't have to leave," she said when at last they pulled apart.

Andrew smiled sadly.

"I would give anything to be able to keep you here, darling," he said, "but I cannot do it. It wouldn't be fair to you. You deserve the best of everything the world has to offer you, Marian. And until I can give you that, I must let you go, much as it pains me."

Marian wanted to argue with him — to tell him that all she wanted was to remain here with him — that surely the world could have nothing better to offer than what she had felt the night before? What she felt now?

Then she thought of her father and her home, and her heart sank.

"I know you're right," she said. "I just wish you were not. It's funny; when I first arrived here, it was the last place in the world I wanted to be. And now that it's time to leave, I find I don't want to go. It will be so hard to say goodbye to you, Andrew. I don't know how I can bear to do it."

"Let's not think of that for now," he said firmly. "First, I've asked Rose to prepare a hearty breakfast for our trip. Let us dress and go downstairs; I know she'll want to see you before you go."

"Our trip?" Marian's spirits rose at the thought that she may be able to delay the moment of parting a little longer.

"Of course. I can't send you off into the forest alone, can I? What kind of man do you think I am?"

He smiled gently, and Marian felt her heart flutter in her chest.

"One of the very best," she replied, reaching up to touch him softly on the cheek. "And I do not think it; I know it."

Andrew returned her smile, and they stood together for a long moment until finally the sound of a bell from somewhere downstairs forced them apart.

"Breakfast is served, it would appear," said Andrew, opening the door. "I'll leave you to dress."

The breakfast was, as he had promised, one of the best Marian had ever seen. Rose and Ben fussed around her as she ate, making sure she wanted for nothing, and although Marian would have liked to have been able to spend these precious last moments alone with Andrew, part of her was grateful for the distraction they provided.

It would not do to become lost in my own melancholy thoughts. I must be brave as Andrew would want me to be.

All too soon, though, the Duke was leading her down the front steps of the house with Rose and Ben waving from the doorway. Marian was sure she saw tears in the cook's eyes as she hugged her goodbye, but the older woman retained her composure as she passed Marian a thick parcel, wrapped in brown parcel.

"Some food for your journey," she said, watching as Marian tucked it carefully into her cloak. "You'll need sustenance. And there are some cakes in there too. I know how you love my cakes."

"I do indeed," Marian replied, struggling to keep her own tears in check. "Oh, you've both been so kind to me," she cried, throwing her arms around them both impulsively. "I wish I could repay you."

"The change you've brought to the Duke will be reward enough," Rose said firmly, patting Marian's sleeve. "Why, I can't recall the last time I'd seen him smile before you arrived."

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say more, but a stern look from her husband made her close it again with a snap. Instead, the cook remained silent as Ben stepped forward and helped Rose onto her horse.

"You'll find her in good spirits, Miss," he said, patting Beauty on her glossy neck. "We have a lad from the village who comes to look after the Duke's horses. He's looked after her well."

"Thank you, Ben," Marian said, smiling down at him. She looked over at Andrew, who was already mounted upon a chestnut stallion, who tossed his head and stamped his hooves as if impatient to be off.

"I fear my horses don't get the exercise they should," Andrew admitted as they set off, riding side by side. "It's been a long time since I ventured off my own land. Perhaps I should make the effort more often."

"Perhaps you should," Marian agreed. "It would be good for you. You and the horse."

Andrew nodded, and they rode on, Marian trying not to think about him living his life without her there to witness it or be a part of it.

I want him to be happy; of course I do. I just wish it didn't have to be without me. But how can it be, when my father needs me, too? At least I know Andrew will survive without me here to look after him. My father, on the other hand, I cannot be so sure of.

Marian shivered, pulling her cloak a little tighter around her body. She dreaded to think what she was returning home to — how her father might have fallen even further from the man he had once been during her absence. That was why she must go to him now, impossibly hard though it was going to be.

At the top of the hill, they paused to look back at the mansion below them. Marian thought of how she had stood in this exact spot just a few days earlier, looking at the house with a mixture of hope and foreboding. She had thought only to find shelter for the night and perhaps someone to help her find her way home the next day. She had not, in her wildest dreams, imagined meeting someone like Andrew, and now that she had, she feared it would be impossible to go back to her old life and continue on as if nothing had happened.

But continue on she must, and so, with one last longing look at the house, she turned her horse towards the forest, and followed Andrew as he led her back towards home.

The ride was shorter than she'd imagined.

"You must have been lost in these woods for a long time," Andrew told her as they finally emerged from the forest path into a clearing that Marian recognized as being but a mile from her home. "You were probably riding in circles without knowing it."

"I suppose I must have," Marian agreed, drawing her horse to a stop. "I had not realized your house was close. To think that you've been there all this time, and I did not know it!"

"It's not as close as you think," Andrew told her softly. "And it would not matter, even if it was. My world and yours are so different as to be separated by more than just miles."

Marian nodded reluctantly. She knew he was telling her that they must never meet again, but she just didn't want to accept that it must be true. How could she when these past few days had changed her completely? How could she go back to her old life when Andrew had given her such a tantalizing taste of a new one?

"You must go, my love," Andrew said softly, almost as if he had read her mind. "Your life is waiting for you, just beyond this clearing. You must go to it."

"What if it's not the life I want, though?" Marian asked fiercely. She turned her horse until she was facing him. "What if it never has been? What if the life I want is right here with you?"

Andrew looked at her silently for a moment before jumping from his steed and coming to her.

"It should not make me happy to hear you say that," he said sadly as he helped her dismount. "I should not want you to turn your back on the world — to give up the life you deserve for me. And yet, I can't deny, I do. I want to believe I could make you happy. That you would never come to regret the choice you'd made if you were to turn around now and ride back to my home with me. But I would be lying to myself if I allowed myself to think that were possible. And, worse, I would be lying to you."

He stepped forward and took her in his arms, tilting her face up towards him.

"I will not lie to you, Marian," he said gently. "Any more than I will allow you to make a mistake you would regret for the rest of your life. I would be a mistake, my darling. A beautiful one, perhaps — for a while, at least. But, still, a mistake that would see you spend the rest of your life with me as a virtual recluse. You know society will never believe in my innocence as you do. And while you would be free to leave at any time, you would come to feel as trapped as I do in that house, that life. No, I will not allow it. I cannot."

"Should not that be for me to decide?" Marian cried impetuously. "Let me make my mistakes, Andrew. Let me choose my own way in life. You are not my father; it's not for you to decide how I should live."

She spoke with all of the passion in her heart, but she knew even as she said it that Andrew was right. The mention of her father had brought him back to the forefront of her mind, and now she stood there, torn between two different worlds — the one she had come from and the one she had found for herself. Neither one would make her entirely happy, she knew, for as strong as her feelings were for Andrew, her father was still her father. She loved him too, even though she despaired of him. And she knew she could not simply leave him to whatever fate might await him without her there to stop it.

Marian's shoulders sagged in defeat. Sobbing, she put her arms around Andrew's waist and held him for what he knew would be the last time, feeling his strong arms come up to pull her closer.

"You must go, Marian," he said at last. "And you should go quickly without looking back. Let us not make this any harder than it is already."

Marian nodded wordlessly. Disentangling herself reluctantly from his arms, she turned back to her horse and allowed him to help her back into the saddle. Then she sat there looking down at him, her face streaked with tears.

"Go," Andrew said simply. "There is nothing more you need say. Go to your father and your life, and try not to think of me; it will be for the best."

Marian nodded again as she turned her horse's head towards home and urged it forward. She did as he had said. She did not look back, but nor did she promise not to think of him. She knew that would be impossible. So she simply rode blindly forward, trusting her horse to follow the now-familiar path until her tears had slowed enough for her to see clearly again.

If Marian had looked back, however, she would have seen Andrew standing there watching her until she was long gone from sight. And she would perhaps have realized that he did not promise not to think of her, either.

"Miss Marian! Oh, my word, what happened to you? We've been so worried!"

Mrs. Grant, the faithful housekeeper who had remained loyal to Marian's family even after her mother's death, rushed forward as her mistress walked back into her father's house later that morning. The woman's face was pale and lined with worry; she looked like she had not slept for days, and Marian felt a rush of gratitude towards her.

At least someone has missed me.

The housekeeper, however, along with the few other servants who remained appeared to be the only ones who had noticed Marian's absence, let alone worried about her — for once she had reassured the woman that she was quite well, and totally unharmed from her adventure, Marian opened the door of her father's study to find him sleeping in his chair, almost exactly as she had left him.

An empty decanter of brandy sat beside him, and his clothes were dirty and disheveled as if he had not changed them for some time. Marian thought ruefully of the search party she had imagined her father gathering to look for her and the scandalized gossip she had thought would spread through the drawing rooms of the Ton upon her return.

How silly of me! Why, no one other than my dear Mrs. Grant has even noticed I was gone!

"Did he even notice my absence?" she asked in a clipped tone, turning to the housekeeper, who hovered anxiously behind her.

"He… he did ask after you a number of times, Miss," Mrs. Grant said, wringing her hands and refusing to look Marian in the eye. "I told him you had gone for a ride and were not yet home. He did not seem to understand how long it had been or how worried we were. I suspect the days rather blend into each other for him."

Marian sighed wearily as she sank into a chair opposite her unconscious father.

"I suspect you're right, Mrs. Grant," she said. "The passing of time must mean little to one who only sleeps and drinks."

She glanced around the room which had clearly not been tended to either. The housekeeper, she supposed, had been too preoccupied by her mistress' absence to take care of such things, and there were few servants left to help her.

Which just leaves me.

Before Marian could sink too deeply into the melancholy that threatened to overwhelm her at the realization that she had not been missed, Mrs. Grant came back into the room, bearing a large pile of envelopes and calling cards.

"Miss Fairchild has called for you every day," the housekeeper said, handing them to Marian. "Twice, some days. She was beside herself with worry. She wanted to go out to search for you herself, but her father would not allow it; I believe he told her that if there was cause for concern, your own father would have told him so at once."

Marian smiled ruefully.

At least some people still have faith in my father to do the right thing. I fear I lost any such faith of my own a long time ago.

But Charlotte! Charlotte, at least, did not forget me! Oh, I should have known my dear friend would have tried her best to find me!

She ripped open the letters eagerly, laughing as she saw Charlotte Fairchild's familiar, looping handwriting covering the page. Marian and Charlotte had known each other since they were children; indeed, their houses were so close they had more or less grown up together. Charlotte's steady presence and vivacious personality were the only things that had kept Marian going in the days after the loss of her mother, and as she scanned through her friend's letters now, she knew she must see her at once.

"Could you bring my warmest cloak, please, Mrs. Grant?" she asked, feeling happier than she had since her return. "I'll be going back out immediately."