Chapter Eighteen
Cedric walked the London streets. He knew he was risking his life, moving through dark places where villains lurked. No one touched him. Perhaps because they recognised a fellow soul with nothing left. Or perhaps his feet knew better than him where he should go.
It was two days after the debacle in Almack’s. But it was weeks since he’d left his sisters, filled with a desperation that became madness. Looking back, he could see all the mistakes in his courtship with Grace.
They stemmed from the moment he’d ceased thinking of her as a person. She’d been a prize to win, a chit atop a mountain of gold that he’d take by hook or crook. She was the means by which he’d repair the roof on his sisters’ house and provide a decent home for the coming niece or nephew.
What a fool he was. Shame filled him, and he knew he needed to try to make recompense somehow. He needed to apologise. That wouldn’t fix what he had done, but it was a beginning. And it was the only thing he could think of to do.
He wrote formal letters to Grace, Declan and Lord Wenshire, expressing deep remorse for what he had done. It had taken all of his strength to write out his shame, but once done, he felt cleaner somehow. He would have written to Lucy as well, butshe was an unwed girl, not even officially ‘out’ yet. It was not proper for him to write to her. His only option was a face-to-face apology.
It took him three more days to work up the nerve, and even then it was not a conscious choice. His feet took him to her home, as they often did. But tonight, the house wasn’t dark.
He stood there, unresolved as to what to do. It was too late for callers, and he wasn’t dressed for a visit anyway. But if she were home, then this was his best chance to speak to her. He needed to beg for her forgiveness and to feel the well-deserved pain when she refused to give it.
He had just begun to approach when she opened the door. She wasn’t surprised. Indeed, she quietly swung the door wide and stepped back, silently bidding him enter.
He meant to refuse, but once he’d seen her face, he knew he had to speak to her. He needed to make things right between them. He stepped inside, pulling off his hat and gloves. But there was no butler to take his things, and so he set them aside on the table designed for such things.
‘Where are your servants?’ he asked.
‘The butler has been dismissed.’ She shrugged. ‘We have had trouble hiring good servants.’
He nodded. It took training to learn who to hire and who was a blighter. He could help her with that, but of course, she wouldn’t want his help. ‘What about your nurse or maid? One should stand as chaperone.’
‘I sent them home for the night.’
‘You—’
‘I knew you would come, Cedric. Once I saw the apologies you wrote to my sister and father, I knew you would seek me out.’
She knew him better than anyone, it seemed. Even himself. ‘Then get your father, please. He should stand as chaperone.’
‘He and Grace are out for the night.’ She faced him squarely. ‘Iknewyou would come.’
‘You waited for me.’ It wasn’t a question. And then he remembered how they would speak at night on the ship. Before he’d hatched his ridiculous plan to pursue Grace, he and Lucy would find each other in the darkness of the ship. They’d stare into the inky blackness of the water or up at the starlit sky and talk of so many things.
That’s how he’d learned of her first love, Ah-Lan. And he’d told her of his gambling days at school and the misery of returning home during the summers. His home had never been happy until both his parents left to reside in London.
But this wasn’t a ship in the middle of the Arabian Sea. They were in London now and proper apologies required proper behaviour.
‘I came to apologise to you,’ he said. ‘But I cannot be here without your chaperone. It would only compound my crime.’ He reached for his hat.
She stopped him by shutting the front door and putting herself between him and it. ‘I would speak with you.’
‘I can come back. When there are—’
‘Now,’ she interrupted. ‘We must speak.’
Alarm warred with surprise inside him. ‘Has something happened? Is there a problem?’ He didn’t know what he could do to help, but he certainly had more resources than her. Or at least more friends in London whom he could call upon.
‘There is no problem,’ she reassured him. ‘But I would say my piece.’
Ah. Yes. He deserved no less. He squared his shoulders and faced her, part of him dreading her words, part of him praying she destroyed him. Indeed, if she took a knife to his chest, he would allow it. He felt that guilty for his actions.
‘I am a foreigner in this land,’ she began, her tone hard. ‘I am here because a stranger took pity on me. I went with him because there is no home for me in China. Grace and I have no one but him. Do you know what happens to women who are alone in a strange country? With no money, no food?’
‘You are not alone!’ he said, the words coming out with the force of a vow. ‘I would help you. Others—’