Chapter Twenty-Eight

Marianne

Glasgow— February 1878, six months later

‘Y ou really do have a magnificent view from here. The city spread out for your delectation and delight, Cousin.' Lord Westville turned away from my drawing room window, smiling his thin smile. ‘You will be able to oversee progress on your good works from here.'

‘I don't consider my plans to be charitable,' I said to him. ‘I see them more as efforts to redress imbalances.'

‘Now that your inheritance is yours, you can redress a great many.'

‘I must thank you, Lord Westville...'

‘You must not,' he said, looking pained. ‘Call it my contribution to redressing an imbalance regarding you. You have been treated most unjustly by our family. If my father had shown an ounce of interest in you, that villain would never have had the opportunity to exploit...'

‘You are not responsible for what Eliot did to me. He is paying for it now.'

‘And will do, for the rest of his life thanks to Mr Sutherland's testimony. And yours, of course.'

As always, the mere mention of Rory's name made my heart flutter, and as always, I ignored it. I had written my testimony for him, and he had given it in court on my behalf, anonymously, but the judge had been more interested in the money.

‘My dear Marianne—may I call you that?' Lord Westville had taken a seat next to mine. ‘It seems wrong, I know, that so little weight was attached to the crime of having you wrongly incarcerated, and so much to the misappropriation of funds, but the end result is that Eliot will never be free again. The law is not always just, I am afraid.

‘Mr Sutherland himself was most—really, he was quite beside himself on the subject. And I—he has told me sufficient of what you suffered, Cousin, to stir me into action. As a peer of the realm, I have the right to put forward changes to the law. I don't know if I will succeed, but I intend to try to make it more difficult for anyone to be committed as you were, with no right to review.'

‘Would you be able to make a stronger case using me as an example?'

Lord Westville raised a brow. Just one. I wondered if it was a family trait. Rory found my brow alluring. I mustn't think of Rory.

‘Mr Sutherland was at great pains to keep your name out of the case,' the Marquess said. ‘If you chose to help me I could not guarantee your anonymity.'

‘I hope that Mr Sutherland knows how much I appreciate his efforts,' I said, choosing my words with care. ‘You will tell him, Lord Westville, won't you, how much I appreciate it? But I also feel—I'm stronger now, and if I can use my experiences to help others—unless you would rather not associate...'

‘I beg you to believe, that I give not a fig for what people will say. I am honoured to claim you for my kin.'

‘You are very good to say so.'

‘I never say what I don't mean.' Lord Westville studied me for a moment, his pale blue eyes intent on mine. ‘Mr Sutherland assured me that you were an astute judge of character. I consider myself one such too. You have a strength and a fortitude, a singleness of mind that I very much admire. Your experiences could have made you bitter. They could have broken you. I believe, however, that they have made you into a very remarkable woman.'

I felt myself blushing. Though his expression remained cool, his eyes detached, I sensed that he meant what he said, and detected a glimmer of humour in his icy eyes. ‘You like to confound expectations,' I said.

‘That's better! I do, very much. I shall take pleasure in owning you, if only you will permit it. You would wield a great deal more influence if you claimed your rightful title, you know.'

‘If I had continued to reside in Edinburgh, perhaps. Here in Glasgow, they consider the aristocracy sleekit.' I smiled, seeing his confusion. ‘Sly. You see, I'm learning the lingo. I shall earn more respect as plain Mrs Crawford.'

‘You couldn't bring yourself to claim Miss Westville? No, I should not have asked.' Lord Westville got to his feet. ‘I must go, I have an express train to catch, but if you are serious about assisting me...'

‘I am, very serious. If we can prevent one person enduring what I did then it will be worth it.' I got up and held out my hand. ‘Thank you again, for all that you have done.'

To my surprise, he retained my hand. ‘Mr Sutherland gave me strict instructions not to try to interfere with how you spend your inheritance. "Trust her, she knows her own mind"—to use his own words—"she'll do a power of good." I shan't interfere, but if I can be of help at all I trust that you do know you can count on me, Marianne?'

His hands were as cold as his eyes, but I sensed a genuine warmth emanating from him that brought a lump to my throat. ‘Rory—Mr Sutherland—will you tell him that I am taking my cue from Octavia Hill? He'll understand.'

‘I shall tell him if I see him, but now that your case is closed, our paths are unlikely to cross.'

‘Oh. I see.' I couldn't keep the disappointment from my voice.

‘You could tell him yourself. Write to him, let him know your plans, I am sure he would be interested, and I believe you have his business address?'

I snatched my hand away. ‘You will miss your train if you don't hurry.'

‘Indeed.'

I escorted him out to the hallway, where he took his time with his hat and gloves. ‘I have been inept,' he said, pursing his thin lips. ‘If I gave you the impression that Mr Sutherland urged me to tell you to write, that is. I asked him, you know, if he had a message for you, but he was quite adamant. "What I said to her still stands," he said. "I've nothing to add." Ah. Yes. I can see you do understand. If you will permit?'

Lord Westville saluted me chastely on the cheek. ‘It has been a pleasure, Marianne. One I hope we will repeat soon. Until then, au revoir.'

I watched from the bay window as his carriage made its way down Park Circus, but I wasn't thinking of my cousin. My thoughts were only of Rory.

What I said to her still stands. I've nothing to add.

I pressed my head against the window pane, gazing out beyond the park that spread before me, to the misty curve of the River Clyde and the hazy cranes of the shipyards. Rory's Glasgow. I felt closer to him here, but that wasn't the only reason I had moved from Edinburgh. I felt at home here. Here in the city, for less than a day, I'd been truly myself, with Rory. I loved him so much.

Did he truly love me? Six months ago, I had been so confused. Terrified by my previous experience of what I thought was love, I had clutched at every possible reason to reject Rory. I'd always known that Rory wasn't like Francis, that my feelings for Rory were different, but I hadn't understood that his feelings were different too.

Rory always put me first. Even though he had not been honest with me, it was because he put me first. He knew the worst of me from the outset, and he saw it as the best of me. He saw me for who I was, and he never once tried to change me. He trusted me, before I could trust myself. He believed in me, before I believed in myself. I knew those things now. I'd had six months to learn them.

Was that what defined love? He'd been right about my insights too. I did sense Francis's true feelings, but I misunderstood his motives. Francis would have been the death of me, one way or another.

I had saved myself though, and now I had the power to save countless other women and children—or to provide them with the opportunity to save themselves. I had not forgotten my experiences in the asylum, but my dreams these days were of Rory, not of that vile place. Or not often. I was looking forward now, not looking back. I was often happy. But not always. Always, I missed Rory.

Did he miss me? He hadn't said the words I love you aloud, but he had made love to me. He had shown me he loved me by leaving me to be me. And that last time, that last kiss. I love you. I heard it, though he had not spoken it.

I missed him so much. The ever-present ache became an intense longing. I didn't need him in order to survive, I didn't need him to make the most of my life now, to make decisions for me or to guide me. I didn't need him, but I wanted him. Did he want me?

I'd never felt safe in anyone else's arms. Rory had given me my freedom. I was free to share it with him, if I had the courage. Because I believed him. Because I trusted him. I always had. It had been trusting myself that was the problem. It seemed so simple, all of a sudden, but it had taken me six months to see that. Six months, and Rory had not once tried to get in touch. Not for the lack of love. Because he loved me. Because he understood me.

If you ever need holding again. Just holding. Any time. Always. You only have to ask and I'll be there.

I didn't want to wait another day, never mind another six months. I raced to my bedroom and grabbed a hat and cloak, then ran all the way to the nearest telegram office. I needed holding. It was time to ask him to keep his promise.