Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

I t was cowardly of her to leave, Beth did not refute that. Even so, it was the only thing she knew how to do, and so she did it.

Her line of thought was quite simple; her husband did not want her there, and he did not celebrate Christmas in his household, and there was a household that she knew of that did, and so that was what she would do.

Unfortunately, that other home was not what one would consider welcoming.

“Oh, she lives.” Her father said as she entered their drawing room, “To what do we owe the privilege of you gracing us with your presence?”

“Mother, Father,” she began, “You told me not to come here until I apologized. Well, here I am. I apologize for what happened. You were right. I should have told you that I was in London, and I feel terrible for keeping that from you.”

“The scandal has not yet ceased,” her mother sighed. “They say you ran off to Gretna Green with that brute from elsewhere.”

“We were married right here in London. You need only show them your invitation to disprove that.”

“As if that would do anything to help. They hate that man.”

“Which is why I have not brought him. Mother, Father, I was hoping that we could spend Christmas together. It has been so long since we all spent time together.”

It pained her to act as though she had committed a grave sin against them, but they were her only hope, and so she would play the part of the terrible daughter even if it killed her.

Her parents looked at one another, clearly waiting for the other to accept or deny her request.

“Where is he?” Her father asked, “Your husband.”

“Well, it is as you said. He is not from England, and in Scotland they do not typically celebrate Christmas, and so he did not feel the need to attend any celebrations.”

“Good, because he would not have been invited. Truly, Beth, you do know how to choose a terrible man for a husband. We had the perfect one for you, and look how that ended.”

Beth neglected to remind them what had happened to her last husband. They clearly continued to think highly of him, which was no surprise to her given that they had been friends for years, right to the day he died. They did not have that same bond with the duke. In fact, they did not have one at all.

“Very well,” her mother said at last, “So long as you are not in the way of our festivities, you may join us. Your aunt and uncles shall be here, as well as your cousins.”

Her eyes widened. She had been prepared to spend time with two members of her family, but ten of them? That would prove far more challenging. Then again, all she would need to do was smile and nod, and accept any criticisms of her as and when they came. It was easier that way, and she had done it well for years, she would simply have to remember how it was done.

“Wonderful,” she smiled through gritted teeth, “When shall they be arriving?”

“By noon tomorrow,” her father said, “Unless this weather gets any worse. Truly, the amount of snow and rain this year has been rather ridiculous.”

“I completely agree, Dear. I do hope that will have caused them enough concern that they will not even think to question why our married daughter is here with us.”

“We can simply tell them that he is unwell,” Beth suggested, “That way, they will not question it too far.”

Her parents seemed to nod in agreement to that, and Beth hated that she felt a small spark of pride in herself for pleasing them. Shortly after, she went to her old room to see that it had been left untouched. It should have been a comfort, but instead it felt eerie. This was not the room of a happy little girl, with laughter echoing off of the walls. It was a sad and gray room that once belonged to a young lady that knew better than to ask for any color.

She wondered if they had thought to change her bed linens even once since the day she left.

She tried to settle herself into the house, wandering the hallways just in case they made her feel anything at all, but nothing helped. This was no longer her home. Her home was hours away, with a man inside that could still very well have been angry with her for her deceit. She had started to understand just why he would have felt the way that he did, and then it hit her.

There was so much regret for what she had said. She had felt bold telling him that he was not truly her husband, and she had thought that in doing so she had won, but she was wrong. It had made her miserable, and sitting on her bed, having chosen defeat and returning to her room, she realized just how lonely she was without him.

She had lied to him through her teeth. He was her greatest friend, and she had betrayed him by suggesting otherwise, and he had every right to leave in the night himself, and return to Scotland and never see her again. It was what she deserved after what she did.

When noon came the following day, her family did indeed arrive. Part of her hoped that they would cancel their plans entirely, given how awful the conditions were for a carriage, but she had not been so fortunate. They were all there, and all the pictures of health. She stopped herself from sighing.

“Oh, my,” her aunt said, “Beth, is that you? Goodness, you have changed.”

“Hello, Aunt Prudence,” she greeted with a curtsey.

“I must say, that husband of yours must have done something good after all, allowing you to return like this. Where is he?”

“He is unwell. It must have been the weather.”

“Well, he ought to do something to stop him from having such illnesses. It will not do well to pass such things onto your children.”

It stung, but Beth told herself that her aunt did not know of her issue. It was not something her parents ever seemed to tell others, even though they had been happy to tell them of her other failures. Perhaps it was to protect their title, and to prevent one of her cousins from making a claim eventually.

“Dear cousin,” her aunt’s son greeted, “It has been so long. It is a shame that you could not come accompanied. I have been considering traveling to Scotland, and I thought that he would be a wealth of knowledge.”

“I apologize for that, Theodore, though he has told me a lot of his home, and so I am sure I could tell you about it myself.”

She saw the sharp look that her parents were giving her, and she knew precisely what it meant. She was not to speak of Scotland, nor of the man that she had married that hailed from there. She was fortunate that they were only giving her a warning.

“That would be rather lovely,” he agreed, “Though I should also like to exchange correspondence with him. Would he mind that?”

“I can certainly ask him upon my return.”

She had not seen much of her five cousins as a child, but she did recall liking Theodore. She wondered if that was why her parents had a particular dislike for him, though they knew better than to show him any unkindness. It was not necessary, either, not when she was there and they could direct all of their anger towards her.

“It is quite cold,” her mother said, “We ought to go inside.”

As they entered, Beth saw her mother nudge her father, and he approached her.

“Might you want to write to your husband?” He asked clearly, so that others would hear him.

She knew what such a suggestion meant: go to your bedchambers and only leave if necessary. She also knew the consequences that would come of her refusing to do so.

“Ah, yes. He shall like to hear that the rest of my family has arrived.”

She left quickly, but when she returned to her room she did not write. She sat at the desk and held a quill in her hand, even dipping it in ink as though she were about to, but the words did not come to her.

There was nothing that she could say to help what had happened, and even if there were it was too late to say it by then. He hated that house, and he had only stayed there for her. Now that she was gone, it was not as though he was going to force himself to remain there needlessly.

He was likely on his way to Scotland, off to see people that he truly liked in a place that was his home. She had wanted to share in that, but now it would not happen and she only had herself to blame for that.

“Beth?” She heard through her door, and she went to answer it.

It was Theodore, who appeared quite flushed, as though he were doing something he shouldn’t.

“What is it, Cousin?” She asked.

“I thought you might like to know that your family are speaking ill of you.”

“Well, I do not. I would rather live in ignorant bliss about all of that.”

“In that case, I shall assume that you do not wish to know what they are saying about you?”

“I am not entirely sure what good that would do for me, if any. I do not know if you can see it, but I am not feeling my best at the moment.”

“It would be a reminder as to why you left, at least.”

“Believe me, Theodore, I do not need any more of those. I hardly want to be here as it is, but it is not as though I had any other choice.”

“Then why don’t we leave? We could walk for a while, as I do not have any particular desire to be here, either.”

“They would be furious. I do not believe that they want anyone to know that I am here.”

“They wouldn’t know we had left. They are all in the drawing room discussing their children, none of whom seem to be good enough, hence me coming here instead.”

Beth considered it for a moment. She did wish to leave, and the weather seemed milder than it had been on her arrival. Not only that, but her cousin seemed to be pleading with her. She pitied him; she had been able to leave her home, but he was still too young and had quite some time to go before that could be an option for him. It might only have been an hour or so to her, but to Theodore it must have been a sanctuary.

“Very well,” she nodded, “But if we are caught, it is your fault.”

“I shall take full responsibility.”

Beth smiled, but she knew such a deal meant nothing. She was the eldest, the married one, the one that should have known better.

They slipped away with ease, and then they were free. Almost instantly, Theodore changed. He walked taller, and spoke in a far more carefree manner. Beth wondered if that was how all of her cousins were when away from their parents, for she certainly had never been.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she said after a while, “What were they saying about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you said they were speaking ill of all of us. What downfalls do you seemingly possess?”

“They say that I do not care for order, and that I am a scoundrel in the making. I am not entirely certain as to why they think that, but perhaps it is simply because I am yet to prove otherwise.”

“That sounds correct, yes.”

“And might you know what they say about you? You did ask me, after all, and so now I have the right to ask you in return.”

“It could be any number of things. For one, I have married a man that is thought to be a murderer.”

“Is he?”

She glared at him, and he silenced himself.

“And then… Well, there was the matter of my last marriage.”

“I always hated that man. I never understood why your parents liked him so much.”

“I believe they thought he was a fool, or at least foolish enough not to notice my pitfalls.”

“What are those? Beth, you have always been perfect.”

“Not quite. There has always been this one thing that stopped me from that, and it is not something that I can change.”

“Is it about you not having children yet?”

“Not having children ever,” she corrected, “As I cannot. I would like to say that I have come to terms with it, but I have not. It’s strange, because when I saw my sisters-in-law, one of them brought her children along, and they were wonderful, and not once did I think of my condition. Now, though, I think about how it has ruined my marriage.”

“It has done no such thing. There are other things that you could do! I am certain that there are orphanages where you live, and that one will have the perfect child for you.”

“It isn’t the same. Not when you are an earl.”

“I am to be an earl, and I think it is the same. Any good man would agree.”

Beth faltered. Adam was a good man. She knew he was a good man. Why, then, had he been so angry with her?

“I suppose you are right.”

“I quite often am. Ah… that might be what my parents were referring to when they said I was full of myself.”

Beth laughed for what felt like the first time in days, and they continued on their way. Their walk was a risk, and they would likely not be able to take another, but it felt nice to have a companion during her stay. However, that didn’t change the fact that her husband was somewhere unknown to her, and she missed him a great deal.

And she doubted that he missed her at all.