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The carriage swayed, knocking their knees together. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Augusta look at him, then glance away. They had not exchanged a word after agreeing to leave the ball early. He was grateful that she seemed to sense the state of his feelings and left him in peace.
Mister Starling and I are to be married .
After the initial shock of the news had subsided and he managed to force words of congratulation out of his mouth, he had felt something inside himself shut down. What he wanted most was to leave, to be alone in his shock and pain, but he forced himself to stay, for Augusta's sake, and to prove to himself, and perhaps to Miss Heywood, that he had changed. But when he found himself dancing with her during the quadrille, he could hardly bear to look at her.
I wish you luck in finding a new governess . Those words had stung like a lash.
And I wish you a happy marriage , he had replied, almost in retaliation. I hope he is worthy of you.
He certainly didn't wish for her to be un happy in marriage, but the thought of her married to another--and to one such as that country oaf–- He stopped himself, tried to be just. He didn't know anything of the man, but he didn't like the possessive way he looked at her.
And the worst of it was--the knowledge he could not escape--was that it was all his own fault. Allowing himself to be manipulated by Lennox's words. Allowing deep-seated feelings of self-disgust and self-distrust to warp his mind. She had warned him, too. Forgive yourself. Or else the past will thwart the future . But instead, he had pushed her away, thinking to save her from himself, and as Mrs. Wheatley had predicted, he had come to regret it almost immediately.
When he had sought her out at Trafalgar House, she had pushed him away. And could he blame her? To be so hot one minute, cold the next--how could she possibly trust him? But if he had gone back, forced out the words to explain himself, might not the situation have ultimately come right? He might have worked to prove himself, to re-earn her trust, as he had hoped to do in speaking to her at the ball. It was all too late now.
When they entered the house, he sought refuge in his study, leaving Augusta to respond to Mrs. Wheatley's greeting and to share the news of Miss Heywood's betrothal.
He sat before the fire, head in his hands, unable to do anything but feel pain and disappointment. It brought back all the pain from before the trip to Bath.
Mrs. Wheatley knocked on the door. "Come in," he managed to say.
She stood a moment in the doorway, then shut the door and approached him. Putting an arm on his shoulder, she said, "Miss Markham told me."
She just stood there for a moment, and her silent support was a comfort.
"Can I get you anything, sir? Would you like some tea?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Wheatley," he had answered. "Tea would be welcome." He must pull himself together.