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As he spied Bronwyn’s outline in one of the windows backlit by candles, however, and his heart surged with longing for her, he knew it would not be so easy.
***
Just as he had feared, the evening had been pure torture.
Dinner had been silent, each person mired in their own thoughts. It was so very different from those occasions when Bronwyn had brought them all together after a day of activities and outings. Then, Eliza and Nelly had been boisterous and joyful, talking of their day. Even Regina had chimed in on occasion. And Bronwyn…Ah, God, she had seemed happy, the closed-off look in her eyes replaced by something that was almost contentment.
She was not content now. No, she appeared strained, her skin ashen. More than once the thought whispered through Ash that Miss Athwart had been right—Bronwyn was in pain. Had she come to love him?
No, it was merely wishful thinking on his part, that selfish side of him that would insist on being heard though he tried with all his might to silence it. There was nothing to love in him.
He did not bother to sit with them after dinner in the drawing room. The meal itself had been horrible enough; he would not subject them further. Finally, however, it came time to retire for the night, and time to say his farewells. Leaving his study, he climbed the stairs to the nursery. Eliza and Nelly were there, quiet and subdued, so different from the boisterous girls he’d been forced to chase halfway across the country. He ached to apologize for leaving, to tell them how much he cared for them and would miss them.
But it would be better for them if he did not. His whole reason for leaving them here with Bronwyn, a safe place far from him, was so they might grow up healthy and happy and away from that shame that followed him about like an albatross.
“Eliza, Nelly,” he said. “I’ve come to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” Eliza replied without looking at him, her voice acidic as she busily straightened a pile of books.
Nelly, cradling a doll in her arms, looked up at him, her large eyes welling with tears. Ash ached to take her in his arms, to tell her all would be well. Before he could say anything, however, her sister grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away into the adjoining room. Ash watched them go, his heart fracturing.
But he was not done with his farewells.
Regina did not immediately answer her door when he knocked. He listened for a moment, his heart sinking. Was she hiding somewhere in the house, perhaps in an effort to avoid him? Truly, he would not blame her if she did. Just as he was about to go searching for her, there were footsteps on the other side of the door. And then it was thrown wide, and Regina was there. Dressed in trousers and a loose shirt, her hair in a thick sable plait down her back, she looked as angry and disdainful as she used to before Bronwyn had come into their lives.
She glared at him. “You needn’t have bothered to say goodbye, you know.”
Though he knew she was simply lashing out at him, her words were like barbs. He had not realized until this moment how dear their new closeness had become.
“Of course I was going to say goodbye,” he replied quietly. “I don’t know when I will see you again.”
“And how different is that from the last five years while we lived in your London house?” she shot back.
He pressed his lips tight, fighting the urge to respond in kind. She was merely acting on her anger, he told himself. That realization only managed to add to his guilt, a guilt that had returned tenfold since Owens’s cursed appearance.
But at least there was one thing he was doing right in his damnable life; he was making certain the girls’ futures, and Bronwyn’s future as well, would be brighter than he could ever provide for them.
“Be that as it may,” he replied evenly, “there is something I wished to discuss with you before I go.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. He thought she would slam the door in his face. Instead she moved aside, allowing him to enter.
He could not recall stepping foot in Regina’s room before. Or, at least, not since she was a child, just arrived under his care. Then, her possessions had been few: a quilt that had been stitched up by her Gran, a handful of books, and a few articles of clothing.
Now, however, the space could not be any more different. The quilt was still there, of course, carefully draped over the foot of the bed. But now it had plenty to keep it company. Not only had all of her belongings from London been brought, but the treasures she had amassed in the past weeks as well, fossils and piles of books and rocks and plant samples and all manner of jars containing God knew what covering every surface available.
She stood amid it all, her arms crossed over her chest, feet planted wide, as if preparing for a blow.
“Say what you have to say,” she bit out. “I need to prepare for bed.”
He flinched, then frowned. She was right, of course. It was best to do this quickly. The faster he could have this over and done with, the sooner he could take his leave of Bronwyn and ready himself to quit this place.
“You are sixteen now,” he began. “Nearly a woman grown. Soon you’ll be entering society, finding a husband, having a family of your own.”
He had hoped to continue, touching on what would be her part in helping her sisters find good matches and see they were settled well. Regina, however, had other ideas.
“Who is to say I shall marry?”
He blinked in surprise. “I had assumed—”
