Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

A t the knock, Xenia's heart hurtled into her chest. She stared numbly at her overstuffed valise. Her thoughts spun in a chaotic vortex.

I didn't pack fast enough. I shouldn't have borrowed those books from Mr. Khan when I knew my stay was temporary. I need to get out of here, but I have nowhere to go…

"Pardon, Mrs. Wood."

The door opened, and the Earl of Manderly entered. He had the same lord-of-all-he-surveys manner as his brother. He looked as if he'd stepped out of some blueblood's magazine in his green riding jacket, his trousers tucking into his tall, champagne-polished boots. His power and grandeur compounded Xenia's feeling of smallness and insignificance. Her pulse racing, she didn't know what to say. Didn't know if he expected an apology too.

"I am sorry to intrude." His tone was pleasant, the kind one might use when approaching a skittish horse. "I wanted to see how you were."

She found her tongue; it was the wooden object in her mouth. "I'm fine, my lord. I am almost packed. I'll be gone soon, I swear?—"

"I hope you won't be."

She blinked at him, not comprehending.

"I came to apologize. On behalf of my brother," the earl clarified.

"That isn't necessary." She shook her head vehemently. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have trespassed, shouldn't have…have used things that weren't mine?—"

"Be that as it may. You are not the only one to blame for what transpired."

Twin furrows formed between his brows, as if he were conflicted about what he was to say next. Which was interesting, because he struck her as the sort of man who seldom doubted his own judgment.

Unlike Xenia, who doubted herself all the time. And, obviously, with good reason.

This is why you do not deserve good things. You ruin them. Ruin everything.

Misery settled like an anvil in her stomach. It felt heavy and inescapable. A reality that even " Pretend until it's true " wouldn't change.

"I don't suppose my brother has mentioned anything about what happened. Before he came to Chuddums, I mean."

"No, my lord," she said blankly. "Why would he?"

Why would the earl think for a minute that Lord Ethan would talk to her about anything, let alone his past? She was just a servant. Not a very good one at that.

Disrespectful, idiotic, worthless.

Her fantasies about Lord Ethan only made her a bigger fool. Why would he have any interest in her? She had nothing to offer. The only follower she'd attracted was a fellow who'd used her to turn a profit. She'd thought she loved Tony, but for him, she'd merely been a means to an end.

"Right. Ethan's not one to take anyone into his confidence. Even his own family… especially his family." The earl sighed. "And Brunswick and Valentine haven't said anything?"

She furrowed her brow. "About what?"

Instead of answering, the earl rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, "That was an asinine question. Of course those two haven't said anything. They're loyal to a fault."

"Beg pardon, my lord." She was getting more and more confused. "I don't understand what you are referring to. What haven't Brunswick and Mr. Valentine told me?"

During a long pause, the earl seemed to arrive at a decision.

"It has to do with my brother's past," he said curtly. "With what happened to him."

"What happened to Lord Ethan?" she asked.

Because really, who wouldn't?

"If you want to know, you must ask him yourself," the earl said.

"Blooming hell, you cannot bring up a topic and then just?—"

She slapped a hand over her mouth to halt the flow of words. You did not just swear at an earl and insult him.

Manderly cocked his head. "I suppose I deserved that. Yet I'm still not going to answer your question, Mrs. Wood. If you are curious and brave enough, which I have cause to believe you are, then you will stay and discover what you want to know yourself."

She said nothing. She had no idea why the earl thought those things of her when she was just…herself. Nobody.

"If neither curiosity nor courage are sufficient enticement, then I hope this will be."

Manderly removed an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat, placing it on her escritoire.

She didn't need to look inside the envelope to know that it contained money. Of course he thinks my compliance can be bought.

"Lord Ethan doesn't want me to stay," she said categorically.

"You're wrong, Mrs. Wood. He does want you to stay. Needs you to, in fact."

"He said this himself?"

She didn't know why she was challenging the earl. Why she was looking a gift horse in the mouth when she ought to be relieved and grateful that the job might still be hers. Yet the anvil of despair suddenly flamed red-hot in her belly, filling her with unspeakable…anger.

At herself. At Lord Ethan. At the unfairness of it all.

"Not in so many words. But I know my brother, and I know he is sorry for…for overreacting. And for frightening you."

She hated that her fear had been so obvious.

"He wasn't always like this," Manderly said earnestly. "While I know your intention was not to provoke, hearing you play that piano stirred up memories for him. Unhappy ones."

Her resentment withered in the heat of shame. While Lord Ethan's reaction had been nasty, she had partly brought it upon herself. She had done all the things he'd accused of her doing, violating his trust and his property. And she'd done it without fully considering the consequences, not just for herself…but for him. She hadn't stopped to think that he might have a reason for keeping the instrument hidden away and that her actions might cause him pain.

He owed her an apology. But maybe she owed him one too.

Drat, drat, and blooming drat. Maybe I should go. Just leave this mess behind.

But how well was that philosophy working for her? While she'd made too many mistakes in life, she strived to be accountable—to herself and, where possible, to the party she'd wronged. For her, it was a point of pride…and what made her different from her mother.

"I will leave you to think things over," the earl said. "However, I can assure you that my brother expects and hopes that you'll accompany him to the mop fair tomorrow morning."

He was nearly at the door when she spoke.

"You left something behind, my lord." She caught up to him, holding out the envelope. "I do not require an incentive to make my decision."

Smiling slowly, the earl tucked the envelope back into his pocket. "I thought that might be the case."

To her shock, he took her hand and kissed it respectfully before exiting.