Therese nodded curtly. “Thank you. Please tell Nanny Sprockett to prepare for at least two weeks in the country. Call me when everyone is in the hall and ready to leave.”
“Yes, my lady.” Portland bowed and retreated.
Child wished he could retreat, too, but the compulsion to plead his old friend’s case hadn’t eased its hold. When Therese turned back to him, he tried again. “Therese, you must see that there’s a definite chance that you’ve leapt to an entirely erroneous conclusion. And yes, I admit that I can’t offer you an alternative explanation for what Devlin was doing, but at least wait until he comes home and give him a chance to explain.”
Her eyes, until then as hard as ice, glimmered alarmingly. “When he returns after being with her?”
The pain underlying the words sliced into him. He breathed in slowly, then pressed, “The pair of you need to learn to talk to each other—you don’t seem to have been succeeding on that front all that well.”
She gathered herself—he could almost see her reining in and shackling her emotions, fusing them into a carapace, a hardened protective shield surrounding her innermost self—then she raised her gaze to his face. “If Devlin wishes to speak with me, he’ll know where to find me, but at this moment, I need to leave—to put space between us so I can calm down and think.” She sent a cold glare his way. “Isn’t that what you want me to do—think?”
“Yes, but—”
Her temper sparked anew; he saw it in her eyes. “Can you give me any other likely explanation for what we saw?”
When he hesitated, she snapped, “And don’t say ‘business.’ I’ve learned enough about his business interests to know that none of the enterprises he engages with would have offices in Covent Garden.”
Again, she made him feel helpless. He fell back on adamantly assuring her, “There will be some reasonable explanation.”
When she shot him a dismissive look and started to turn away, stung, he blurted, “I know, absolutely and beyond question, that he wasn’t lying when he said he loved you.”
Half turned from him, she froze.
Therese closed her eyes. She breathed in and tried to wrench her awareness from the seething turmoil inside, tried to do as Child had demanded and think, but as she’d earlier confessed, she simply couldn’t. Her shock—her hurt—had pushed her past rational thought; at that moment, all she could do was feel. And everything she felt only fed the instinctive imperative to flee—flee to the safety she’d always found at the Priory.
She knew she was running away, but at that time, that was all she could manage.
Perhaps, once she’d had a chance to examine and tend her wounds and build sufficiently strong walls around her heart, she would be able to face the prospect of meeting and listening to Devlin.
At the moment, every time she thought of him, the image of him smiling so charmingly at the woman in Covent Garden and the look on the woman’s face blazed in her mind.
And her hurt deepened.
She had to get away.
“Listen.” Child had moved closer. “I know I’ve only recently returned, but it’s plain as a pikestaff that you and Devlin…have the chance of something special in your lives. Something not all of us get a chance to have. All I want to say is don’t throw that away.”
She drew in a breath, then opened her eyes and glanced at Child.
A tap fell on the door, distracting her, and Portland called, “Everyone is ready, my lady, and the carriages are at the door.”
“Thank you.” Without meeting Child’s eyes, she walked to the door.
Child heaved a resigned sigh and followed.
Therese walked into the hall and found everyone waiting. Her mask softened as the children looked up at her eagerly. For them, she managed a smile. “We’re off to the Priory, my darlings.”
With a nod to Nanny Sprockett, Therese accepted her bonnet from Parker and put it on, then tugged on her gloves.
Turning to the children, she smiled again. “Are we all ready?”
“Yes!” the boys answered and dove to claim her hands.
She included Horry, who was safely anchored on Nanny Sprockett’s ample hip, with her smile, then allowed the boys to drag her forward.
With her entourage preparing to fall in behind her, she started to turn toward the door, and her gaze fell on Child.
He’d halted farther back in the hall, his expression frustrated, but also troubled. Clearly, he thought she was making a mistake.
