The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London 4)

“No one is to blame,” he said. “The time has come for me to return. I cannot avoid the place forever.”

“The ghosts of the past only haunt us if we let them.” Farleigh handed Vane a glass of brandy and moved to stand behind Rose. “I should know.” He put a hand on Rose’s shoulder, and she covered it with her own.

“Has Miss Darcy explained what prompted her to leave home and journey to France?” Rose spoke softly as though that somehow lessened the impact of such a blunt question.

Vane cleared his throat. “I have yet to ask her.”

“I see.” Rose sat back in the chair.

Damnation. Despite having told this woman far too much already, he had no intention of admitting he was too terrified to hear the truth. He should leave now.

“We all have our crosses to bear,” Rose continued. “My father made life impossible, a living nightmare. Perhaps Miss Darcy’s father did the same.”

“Lord Ravenscroft was a kind-hearted man, too trusting of character.” Vane’s father had lured him into a mining venture that had little hope of success. Ravenscroft’s losses were heavy. “But he loved his daughter.”

A look akin to pity flashed in Rose’s eyes. “Forgive me, but what we believe and what is true are two very different things. Let me tell you that a young lady does not leave her only means of security, be it emotional or financial, unless the consequences of staying outweigh the danger of leaving.”

What the hell was she saying?

“So, Estelle would rather risk her life on a perilous voyage than marry me?” He had thought the same for years. But the way Estelle had looked at him, the way she’d kissed him at the coaching inn, convinced him she felt something.

Perhaps the injury to his head had muddled his mind.

“What Rose is trying to say,” Lord Farleigh interjected, “is that perhaps another factor affected her decision. One that made it impossible to stay. Perhaps her father insisted she marry someone else. You told me once before, your father practically ruined Lord Rave

nscroft. Perhaps he held a grudge. Perhaps you were the last person in the world he would permit his daughter to marry.”

Vane shook his head. “Lord Ravenscroft was just as hurt and confused by Estelle’s sudden departure.” Her father blamed himself, rambled on about reading the signs, about misplaced trust.

“Then perhaps she doubted your loyalty.”

Farleigh’s comment struck like a sword to the heart.

“I would have done anything for her,” Vane said fervently. The immense power of the words filled his chest. Give him twenty rogues in an alley, and he could beat every one of them. He sat forward. “I would have given away my birthright, sheared sheep, farmed the land.” His love for Estelle burst free of its shackles to flood his body with a warm glow. “She was my life, my love, my everything.”

God damn. He’d not meant to say that aloud.

A pained silence filled the room.

Farleigh stared at him with pursed lips, although his solemn expression was soon replaced with a weak smile. “It’s about time you were honest with yourself. Perhaps you can salvage something from this. Perhaps it’s not too late.”

He wanted to say that too much had happened, that they could never reclaim what they once had. He wanted to contradict any words spoken in pride, to say that a part of him would still sacrifice his life to save her.

Vane placed his drink on the side table and stood. “Thank you for your time and your hospitality.” He took Rose’s hand and bowed. “But I must see if Pierre is ready to leave. I have an evening appointment that I cannot miss.”

Farleigh strode over to the drinks table and placed his glass on the tray. “I’ll walk with you.”

Vane was venturing as far as the hall, not heading out on a pilgrimage to Rome.

Once out in the hall, Farleigh stopped and put his hand on Vane’s shoulder. “You’re always welcome here and at Everleigh. I shall remain in town for a few days. Perhaps we might meet for supper tomorrow evening?”

Vane cared for this man like a brother. “What so you can press me to speak to Miss Darcy?”

“No, I thought I might challenge you to a game of chess. It is the only pastime I know of where I stand a chance of beating you.” Farleigh offered a mischievous grin before adding, “But while we’re on the subject of Miss Darcy, all I ask is that you open your heart to the possibility that she is still your everything.”

Vane’s throat grew so tight he could barely breathe. He tapped Farleigh on the upper arm. “Your wife is waiting. If anyone deserves happiness, it is you. All I ask is that you make every second count.”

They parted ways. Vane did not wish to linger and so decided Wickett could return for Pierre. As he settled into his carriage, all thoughts should have been on his secret mission to spy on Estelle. Equally, he should have been imagining the multitude of ways he would hurt Lord Cornell.