Camilla’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What do you mean by that?”
“My children have decided,” her father replied, his tone clipped and resolute. “Honestly, I would have wanted nothing more than to deal with this matter silently, but your actions have not only brought a jackal into my house, it resulted in my children being placed in danger. I cannot tolerate that. I need to settle some matters here, then we will be returning to London.”
Louisa blinked, the sudden shift catching her off guard. “We are?”
“Not you,” her father said in a way that brooked no argument. “You shall remain here with your brother. Camilla and I will pay a visit to Bow Street.”
“James!”
He ignored her. “I cannot predict the backlash, so I do not want the two of you near London.”
Louisa wasn’t daft. Her father also didn’t want her near the Duke of Mortimer, who was probably already on his way back to London to hand over the evidence this very minute.
“Why didn’t you demand the ledger from the duke?” Louisa asked, curious. It seemed rather out of character for him to let the duke go so easily.
Her father scowled. “What would be the point when he would just refuse to hand it over?”
Louisa understood. It was a matter of pride. Pride and power. Her father wouldn’t ask for the book because he didn’t wantto lower himself to make the request and because he’d been confident—at that moment, at least—in his power to suppress it.
Louisa was suddenly tired.
She’d been exhausted before, but this... the life nearly drained from her body. She didn’t want to think about the past, she didn’t want to argue with her father, and she didn’t want...
Oliver to have left like this.
She rubbed her temples, a low ache starting to form there. Her father had once again reminded her why she wished to avoid men like him. He wasn’t a bad man. He cared for his children immensely. She believed he always did what he thought was right and honorable. But there was another side to him as well. A darker side.
We all have them.
But that didn’t mean we all had to act upon that side. That didn’t mean hatchets couldn’t be buried. That didn’t mean one couldn’t look toward the future instead of the past.
Louisa sighed but lifted her head to stare straight at her stepmother. “Her servants are not to be trusted.”
Her father nodded. “I’ll handle them. Hire new ones while I am away.”
“Will she return with you?” Louisa pressed. There were some things she would not tolerate any longer either. Such as Camilla’s presence in her brother’s life. “I won’t accept her as family.”
“This is ridiculous,” Camilla said furiously. “No matter what happens, you cannot strip me of my title.”
“I can if I press for a divorce.”
Louisa’s eyes widened. She’d never expected her father would ever consider such a thing. While not impossible, it was certainly frowned upon. And divorces were rarely granted, as they required an act of Parliament. However, it would maketheir stance on the matter clear if this matter became public. A clear divide.
In any event, this matter was between her father and his wife.
She had done what needed to be done. However, one point of interest still refused to be dismissed. A faint, stinging question lodged deep in her heart, unresolved, and she didn’t quite know what to do with it.
Oliver . . .
His absence had left her cold.
She’d always known their adventure would end this way. Everything she had done, she’d done without regret. But coming to the moment, the moment when their paths split, she couldn’t help but regret that the only thing she had left were memories of him—breathless, heart-stirring memories. And nothing else.
“The Duke of Mortimer . . .”
“He is not up for discussion, and his name shall never echo within the walls of our house. That is final.”
Louisa stared at her father, but she didn’t contradict him. There was no need to. Oliver had already left. And he wouldn’t return. They had parted ways, as they were always meant to do.
