Page 53 of Reforming Lord Neil

“Teresa.” He picked up her hand, holding it in both of his. “You were right. What you said, downstairs.”

She appeared puzzled. He sighed and released her hand.

“I will explain later.”

He withdrew, leaving her to watch as he went down the hall to his own room.

It looked as though the room had once been larger, divided by the wall between him and Teresa. He had a window, a decently sized bed, and a chest at his disposal. There was a small table and chair, too. Neil went to the window and leaned his forehead upon the glass.

What had happened to him? The more he thought of his last several weeks, even stretching his mind back further, he began to see his life differently.

The year previous, he had been in an accident with Olivia. Their phaeton had overturned. Olivia had shrieked and carried on over the accident, blaming the other party—a pair of sisters—and declaring it was an insult to the family. He had broken his arm, yet his reaction had been different. He was only relieved that all four of the people involved had walked away from the accident alive.

Neil lowered himself to the chair, scrubbing his hands through his hair. That had marked the start of his change. It must have. He had not entered into any flirtations, any relationships at all, with another woman since then. Instead, he had done a great deal of thinking. For a time, he had even considered pursuing a career. But at his age, was it not too late to attempt gaining employment through the law?

Life had started to feel stagnant. Olivia’s petty feuds with social rivals had once amused him, but he found himself caring less and less about them, until she had dragged Miss Wedgewood into a dangerous situation mere months before.

Underscoring everything had been a deep dissatisfaction with his family and their way of living.

He looked down at his boots, his trousers, not at all suitable for a gentleman, much less the son of a marquess.

But he wasn’t a son of the Marquess of Alderton. The old devil’s blood did not run in Neil’s veins. Or Olivia’s, for that matter. But was blood alone to account for his change of heart and mind?

Then there was Teresa. Beautiful, warm, and compassionate woman that she was, she had given him a chance without caring about his family or history. And that had changed everything for good. He need not act, nor uphold any sort of reputation for her. Neil only had to work hard, a thing which he had not done since earning disciplinary chores for his delinquency.

Work hard, which he had surprisingly enjoyed, and then be true to himself.

Neil rose and took up his satchel. He took out all his fine clothing, then left his room in search of the innkeeper. He would have his things washed and brushed, pressed, and returned to him. The fine coat he had worn to dinner long ago would not do, nor would the ruined gloves, but the trousers and a clean shirt, a pressed cravat, would help.

Teresa deserved his best. His best character, his best effort, and everything else.

Though she would not have him, not as he wished, Neil was her friend and her defender.

Neil had given her his heart, whether she knew it or not.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ipswich, though not nearly so large as London, had enough people and carriages to cause crowding. Teresa had not been to a town so large since moving out to Bramble Cottage. She peered out the window of the carriage with interest, and a knot of nerves in her stomach.

“Rest easy, Mrs. Clapham,” the countess said. Teresa turned from the window to meet the other woman’s eyes. She was so young, and so certain of her place in the world. Teresa almost envied her. “Tomorrow, we will appear before the court. Today, you may do as you please. If you wish to spend the whole of it in bed at the house, you may.” They had apparently received permission to stay at a friend’s house in Ipswich while the friend was away in the country.

Neil said nothing, the same as the day previous in the carriage. Never would Teresa have guessed him to be able to sit silent for so long. Not that he spoke excessively, but he did enjoy conversation, and she rather missed it.

“Thank you. Perhaps I will take a walk. The exercise may help to settle my thoughts.” Teresa stole another look at Neil, but noticed the earl looking in the same direction with a frown.

The two of them truly did not care for one another.

“I think that a marvelous idea. I would offer to join you, but I have missed my son. I intend to spend the afternoon doting upon him.” Lady Inglewood smiled wistfully. “I have never been much apart from my child. Leaving him in the care of only his nurse for even a night was too long.” The countess smiled somewhat apologetically.

Teresa well remembered what that was like. Removing herself from Caroline had always been difficult. But when she next saw her daughter, it would be with a change in their fortunes. Or so she hoped.

The carriage stopped at a modest townhome; snuggled as it was between its neighbors, Teresa was surprised when they entered the foyer to find it most elegantly furnished on the inside.

“To whom does this house belong?” she asked, looking at the silver and gold wallpaper.

“It is the property of the Countess of Chilton,” Lord Inglewood said. “She is my godmother, and has always allowed me to use this residence. She much prefers her rented house in Bath to anywhere else.”

Indeed, the servants waited upon Lord and Lady Inglewood with absolute deference. A maid was immediately assigned to attend to Teresa.