《Eventually Yours》26 Denial
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"A letter for you, sir."
I took the offered envelope and set down my Brandy long enough to work it open with my fingers. I stared out at the sea of guests in the ballroom of my estate as I did so. Edward was in the center of the crowd, laughing heartily with a group of men I'd never cared for. A gaggle of women were nearby, giggling into their fans and eying me sideways. My mother was somewhere around, welcoming guests to her son's Homecoming ball that he hadn't wanted to throw. Gwendolyn was here. She'd been watching me all evening. So far, I'd managed to avoid her but I knew it was only a matter of time before my luck ran out.
Finally, I had the envelope opened. I slid the letter out and unfolded it, recognizing Benthem's handwriting the instant I saw it.
Victor,
I hope you are well. Everything is fine here. I've been wrapping up my business so I wrote to inquire about when you would need me back in Northumberland. Madison, despite how dearly she loves the Harringtons, is eager to be home so do not suspend your summons on our account.
I thought you might like an update on everything going on here as well. Emily is engaged. It happened just last night, Colin's proposal. Everyone but Elijah was here for it. He's been sneaking off into town more often than not as of late. I wasn't sure if you knew anything about that. He hasn't said a word to me.
The Countess is beside herself with the planning. What with her decision that Emily should be wed at the end of the season and her determination to garner a proposal for Ella from Sir Thomas Abney by that time-
"Excuse me," I said to the man I'd been speaking with upon the deliverance of the letter. Jaw clenched, letter wrinkled in my balled up fist, I stormed from the ballroom.
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This outrageous display had worn my patience thin enough but now this letter, with its mention of Ella marrying another man, I had no patience left to wear. I strode from the ballroom into the hall. No one called out to me, no one spoke my name. They seemed to sense I was in no mood for it.
My mother was speaking with another woman her age near the massive Venetian vase she kept in the foyer as I stormed past. I heard her mutter her excuses as I made my way to my office at the end of the hall. I'd just gotten inside and to my desk when she entered behind me.
"What's happened?" She asked as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. I crossed the room to the decanter and poured myself a glass of far better brandy than our hastily put together bar was serving.
"Nothing," I told her, lifting the glass to my mouth.
She reached out with a finger and tipped the glass down so that I could not take a sip to avoid her. She looked into my eyes for a moment and then spoke, "Go to her."
The denial was already formed on my tongue. But she was right. She did know me. And she knew I was hurting senselessly, needlessly. I wasn't sure what there was between myself and Ella. I wasn't sure what there could be. But I wouldn't find out hidden away in my office. So I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and pulled it on as I breezed past her toward the door.
I left her in my office and headed for the first servant I saw.
"Retrieve my horse," I told him in hushed tones. "Ready it for a journey. I'll be leaving tonight."
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The servant nodded and rushed off to do as he was told.
"You're leaving your own party?" A familiar voice asked and every muscle in my neck tensed at the sound of it. "I wasn't aware you could do that."
I looked up at the woman dangling a wine glass from her fingers, plump, pouty lips turned up in an elegant smirk.
"Gwendolyn," I muttered a greeting. She cocked her head to the side.
"Victor," she replied. "Have you been avoiding me?"
"Could you blame me if I was?"
Finally, I looked into her eyes and found them staring back into mine. I flexed my fingers. She raised a brow.
"No," she answered slowly, fully forming the word on her lips, sticking out her tongue to lick their red, glossy surface. "I suppose not."
I nodded, assuming this was settled, and pushed past her toward the stables.
"So we simply aren't going to talk about it?" She called out.
"There's nothing to talk about, Gwendolyn," I shouted back without stopping. "And I wouldn't speak to you even if there was."
My horse was ready and waiting for me by the time I reached the stables. Hoping that fool Abney hadn't already gone and proposed, I hopped on and rode away from Northumberland without a second thought.
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