“And so? You do not like her, anyway, so why would you care?” he asked, a little harsher than intended.
“That is not true. I know I did not act my best that night. I know I can be difficult and not easy to please. But she is a lovely young woman, and if you care about her, then that is all that matters.” She pressed her lips together. “I know I said things that were?—”
“I cannot, Mother, please. I love you, but I cannot. Not now…” he pleaded, and for once, his mother did as he’d requested.
She patted his hand and then rose, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “I understand. Another time. Rest now. I will come back tomorrow if I may.”
“Of course,” he replied.
Then, she walked out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
As he sat and stared at the fireplace, dark and unused, the acrid scent of burning wood filled his nostrils again. He knew it wasn’t really there, as he’d had the maids scrub out the fireplace to remove the smell. Yet, it was eternally present.
With a resigned sigh, Kenneth sank further into his seat, coocooned in a blanket that provided a semblance of comfort. The room, once filled with the melodies of music, now resonated with the quiet turmoil of his thoughts.
His eyes, heavy due to the restlessness that had haunted him for days, fluttered shut, only to fly open again when another knock sounded at the door.
“I said I am not hungry,” he called loudly, irritated that his mother would take it upon herself to send up food, after all.
Another knock followed, and Kenneth jumped up from his seat, the blanket pooling at his feet. His hands curled into fists.
Why could they not leave him alone? What was wrong with people?
He marched to the door and yanked it open, ready to ring whoever was there a fine peal when his words caught in his throat. For standing there was not a maid or a footman with an unwanted meal, but another far more surprising caller.
Joanna.
CHAPTER 18
Joanna’s heart raced as Kenneth opened the door to the music room. She hadn’t seen him in almost a week, and the eeriness of his home had ratcheted up her anxiety.
The whole way to his house, she’d wondered what she would actually say when she saw him. She was upset that he’d left yet grateful for his daring rescue. Uncertainty over his ever-changing behavior and the growing feelings she had for him mingled with the dreaded anticipation of their meeting.
His leaving her combined with their odd conversation at the ball alarmed her. The ghostly appearance of his home and the subdued mood of the servants she encountered only added to this. The curtains were drawn, yet not many candles were lit. It was cold and off-putting to be in this house.
Something was strange about his home, although it was in line with his most recent actions. It spoke of an uncomfortable truth—she didn’t really know this man she’d grown to love.
As she heard his footsteps followed by the turning of the handle, she took a deep breath. The door was yanked open, and she almost gasped upon seeing him.
He looked dreadful. His worn appearance, along with the deep circles under his eyes, told her that all was indeed not well.
He looked unwell. Not sick, but like a man who hadn’t slept in a long time. Her father had had a similar appearance in the days after Miss Hastings had left Carlisle Manor, and again in the last few weeks. However, Kenneth looked haunted by something.
“Joanna,” he said, his voice betraying his irritation at her presence. “I am not feeling well. Please, let us talk another time.”
“No,” she uttered, anger suddenly overtaking her worry for his well-being. “I have sent you messages, and you have responded to none. It has been a week. I will not be chased away like some pest.”
He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. It stood up on end as if he had not brushed it for some days.
He wasn’t well, it was evident. But why? She’d seen his mother’s carriage roll down the narrow path leading to the dower house, and now she wondered if the Dowager Duchess had been here to tend to her son.
“I am sad to hear you are unwell, but I will not be sent away. I am here now. What is the matter, Kenneth? I do not understand,” Joanna pressed.
He opened his eyes and pressed his lips together as he examined her. “Please, I need to be alone.”
To her amazement, he attempted to shut the door in her face.
Anger quickly turned into pure rage. Who did he think he was? More importantly, who did he thinkshewas? Their relationship might have started as a mere convenience to them both, but it meant more now—they both knew it.
