“So, I’ll leave you to your purpose, then,” she said.
“Elizabeth—”
But she’d already turned on her heel and walked away.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“It’s time to leave,” Elizabeth whispered to herself.
She had been standing in the front hall of the Redmoor townhouse for what seemed like hours, but she had not yet been able to force her feet to step outside for good.
Her eyes scanned everything, wondering if it was wise to remember every detail or if it was better that she left without many memories with her.
Her hands were folded in front of her, poised and proper as everyone expected from her. Her bonnet was in place although she had not slipped on the gloves she was gripping in her hands. At least, the crying had stopped. The trembling had, too. It was time to move on.
The sad thing was that nobody stopped her. Nobody called out to tell her to stay. Instead, it seemed that both Alasdair and she had already given up on the life they were supposed to live together.
The house felt too quiet, and it must be. She didn’t see Alasdair anywhere. When a footman assisted her to her carriage, she didn’t look back.
Why should she?
The London streets were blurry. Elizabeth was too caught up in her feelings to truly see or hear anything.
It was over.
It was not supposed to be surprising. It was not supposed to hurt. After all, it was merely an arrangement and a flirtation, but she had to admit that it was better than other people’s arrangements. There was at least fondness and friendship, or so she thought.
The carriage soon rolled in front of Marianne and Dominic’s townhouse. The butler seemed surprised but remained kind.
“It’s a pleasure to see you, Your Grace,” he said.
“Likewise. Thank you,” she responded as politely as her mood would allow.
Only a moment later, Marianne practically tumbled down the steps to greet her. Concern was etched on her face.
“Lizzie! Are you unwell? What happened?” she asked, as she hugged her younger sister tightly.
“I…I just needed some time away, Marianne,” she said, not exactly lying.
She just didn’t know when she was coming back.
Her sister didn’t ask any more questions. She simply led Elizabeth into the house, and that was that.
Meanwhile, Alasdair was also taking some time, but within the Redmoor townhouse.
He’d heard Elizabeth leave hours ago. He heard her drag her luggage, but he didn’t do anything about it. He had remained seated in his darkened study, making sure the fire was low. It was almost like nobody was there, and perhaps nobody was.
Perhaps he had always been a coward.
In front of him was an almost empty whiskey bottle. He drank the liquid not for enjoyment this time, but for punishment.
“Ye damn fool,” he muttered, as he swirled his glass and drank the last bit of spirits.
When Elizabeth approached him about choosing between duty and desire, he thought that it would be such an easy choice. After all, he went into this marriage offering himself.
Wasn’t he a hero for pulling her away from more undesirable options?
No, he wasn’t.