As it turned out, Elizabeth did not have to put her resolve into effect. Hetherington joined her and Louise at the breakfast table the following morning. He helped himself to food at the sideboard, sat down, and smiled at Louise.
"I have just been in conversation with your husband, Louise," he said. "I have been taking my leave of him. I leave for London today."
Louise's cup clattered back into the saucer. Elizabeth felt her heart begin to hammer uncomfortably. She laid down her fork as quickly as possible before her hand could begin to shake. She did not look up from her plate.
"You are leaving?" Louise said. "Oh, Robert, I had no idea."
"I have already been here longer than I ought," he replied. "I had planned to stay only while I felt that Elizabeth needed my support. With Jeremy in such bouncing health, I cannot pretend that there is still a crisis in the house."
"But you do not have to have a reason to be here," Louise protested, glancing uneasily at Elizabeth. She seemed about to say more but changed her mind.
"I really have quite pressing business in town," he said gently. "But I do thank you for your hospitality. I have been very happy to make your acquaintance at last, ma'am."
Louise was speechless for a while. "Jeremy will miss you," she said at last.
He smiled. "And I shall miss him," he replied. He held her eyes and raised his eyebrows, casting a quick glance at Elizabeth's lowered head.
Louise jumped to her feet. "And speaking of Jeremy," she said brightly, "I must see if he had a peaceful night after his outing yesterday. Shall I see you before you leave, Robert?"
"I shall come to the nursery soon," he said.
Left alone, Elizabeth and Hetherington sat in silence for a while. She had not touched any food or drink since he had spoken his first words.
"You finally have your wish, Elizabeth," he said quietly at last.
"Yes."
"You will be free to relax with your family when I am gone."
"Yes."
There was another tense silence.
"What will you do now?" he asked. "Will you stay here? I believe you are needed. And you are certainly loved."
"I shall go back to my position," she replied. "This is merely a holiday."
"You do not belong there," he protested.
She looked up at him for the first time since he had come into the room. "It is not for you to say where I belong," she said firmly. "I shall do with my life as I please, my lord."
He got impatiently to his feet and strode to the French windows that faced out onto the terrace. He stood there with his back to her. "You do not like being dependent on your brother, is that it?" he asked. "You need not be, you know. You are still my wife. I am able and willing to support you in any manner you choose. If you wish to set up your own establishment, Elizabeth, you may send the bills to me. Or I shall make you an allowance so that you do not have constantly to apply to me. Would you prefer that?"
Elizabeth's chair scraped back and she was across the room at his side almost before he had finished speaking, her cheeks flaming, her eyes blazing.
"How dare you insult me so!" she hissed at him. "Have I not suffered enough humiliation at your hands, without this? I would not take a farthing from you, Robert Denning, if I were destitute on the streets and you my only hope of avoiding starvation."
His face had paled and he had flinched when she began to speak as if she had struck him a physical blow. The sneer had returned by the time she finished.
"You have changed, my dear," he said. "There was a time when money meant more to you than all else. Or perhaps you are no different now. William Mainwaring will be in residence alone when you return to your employment. He is clearly besotted with you. And I am sure you are clever enough to spin him a yarn that will overcome his disappointment in finding you a married woman. I would wish you good fortune, ma'am, if I did not feel that the man deserves better of life."
Elizabeth's hands were clenched at her sides. "Do not let me delay you, my lord," she said sweetly. "I am sure you wish to reach London before night falls."
He stared at her blankly, then held out his hand. "I am glad that events turned out well for your family here," he said.
She placed her own hand hesitantly in his. "I thank you for bringing me home," she said. "It was kind of you to cut short your visit to Ferndale."
He looked into her eyes, a half-smile on his lips. "Good-bye, Elizabeth," he said. "I wish things might have been different for you and me."
She willed herself to show no emotion. She steeled herself for the kiss on the hand that she half expected. She came near to crumbling when he kissed her instead, very gently, on the lips. Had he not gone immediately, in fact, without even stopping to look into her face again, he would have seen the tears spring to her eyes; he would have heard the sobs that felt as if they would tear her ribs apart.
But he had gone.
Chapter 12
Elizabeth stayed home for only one more week. It was blissful, she thought, to be alone with John and Louise and the baby, not to be constantly looking over her shoulder for Hetherington or half-expecting to find him inside every room that she entered. After a few days she could not understand why she was so bored and restless. John was busy for much of each day; Louise was frequently tired and had to rest; Jeremy could not be played with all day long. It was time to go back. At least she was usually kept busy at the Rowes'.
Louise made life uncomfortable for her by refusing to let the topic of Hetherington drop. She had become genuinely fond of him and was convinced that he could not be quite the villain that she had previously thought.
"No one who loves children as he does can be a cruel man," she told Elizabeth on one occasion. "And did you notice how much Jeremy loved him? Depend upon it, children always know who can be trusted. Their instincts never err."
Further, she was convinced that Hetherington still had strong feelings for her sister-in-law. She believed that the marriage could be revived.
"I assure you he is not indifferent to you, Elizabeth," she said. "Why else would he have accompanied you here and stayed for ten whole days? It is not as if we are able to offer much in the way of entertainment. He loves you, you may be sure."
"Nonsense!" Elizabeth protested. "He stayed here merely to provoke me. He did not miss an opportunity to set me down or to sneer. And he has said good-bye, Louise. This is the end of it. I shall not see him again. And I must say, I am greatly relieved to know it. I shall be able to settle to my tranquil life again."
Louise cast her a skeptical look but said no more.
John upset Elizabeth in a different way but on the same topic. He apologized to her for not having taken a firmer stand and ordered Hetherington away from the house at the start.
"It was just so deuced awkward when he had just done you the service of bringing you here so quickly," he told her. "And then afterward he did us so many kindnesses and he really did seem to lift Louise's spirits. I am sorry, Elizabeth."
He proceeded to comfort his sister by abusing Hetherington for the heartlessness that enabled him to behave toward them all as if nothing had happened in the past, and for his hypocrisy. Elizabeth, surprisingly, was not comforted. She found herself suppressing the urge to defend her husband to her brother.
And she could not forget him when she was alone. Try as she would to convince herself that she was happier since he had left, she found herself reliving some of those days when he had been there. He had appeared so lighthearted most of the time. And it was his laughter, his teasing, and his smiling eyes that she had fallen in love with six years before. She remembered his always keeping the conversation alive at the dinner table, his ability to entertain Louise. She often pictured him with the baby, who would bounce with anticipated delight at the mere sight of his uncle.