Page 161 of The Dueling Duchess

“I know you don’t think—”

“I think you should go.”

She blinked. “You do?”

“Absolutely.”

She stared at him.

“You can take Cat and Helen with you. As for the Fayre, Beryl and Wilfred will do fine managing the theater.” He forced a chuckle. “You can’t go back on stage after this recent discovery.”

She stared. “And you?”

“You know I have the property in America—I told you I’d be here for six months. I’ll stay if you think I’m needed.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to mention it, but I received a letter from the man who’s been leasing the farm and he asked if I would be amenable to letting him out of the agreement early. He’s ill and apparently his—”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, cutting off his babbling.

“Well, yes, darling, that was always the plan, wasn’t it? So,” he said briskly, “when are you planning to go?”

She blinked, as if struggling to focus.

Guy almost gave in to his selfish desires then—he almost dropped to his knees and begged her to stay.

But then he remembered who she was now and that he had nothing to offer her.

He swallowed down his misery and said, “I imagine you’ll be wanting to go soon?”

She nodded slowly, as if she were coming out of a trance. “I—well, Mr. Dumas and Gaston were going to leave two days hence, but if I am to go with them, they will wait until next week.”

“Ah, yes, it makes perfect sense to travel with them. They’ll take excellent care of you. And we’ll take care of everything here, so you don’t have a thing to worry about.”

“Oh. Well, that won’t be necessary. I’ve already told Beryl we’ll take our seasonal break a month early this year—starting tomorrow.”

“Jolly good thinking,” Guy said, unable to get the dreadful smile off his face. Suddenly, he couldn’t look at her stunned expression even a second longer. “Well, then. It sounds as if you’ve got it all sorted. I daresay you’ll be terribly busy with preparations for your trip, so if I don’t see you before you leave, then I do wish you the best of luck with everything.” Guy paused, waiting for her to say something. Anything.

But she merely stared at him, her gaze blank.

“All right, then. Good night, Cecile.”

“Good night, Guy.”

When he got to the top of the stairs he didn’t look back. And it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Chapter 30

Guy closed the lid on his trunk and was buckling up the straps when the door banged open. Cat flew across the room and flung her small body on him. “Where are you going? You can’t be leaving! I won’t let you!”

He looked up and met Helen’s worried gaze. She was standing in the doorway, the little dog beside her. Even George, who was sitting quietly rather than capering around his mistress, appeared to have a furrow or two on his dog brow.

Guy stood, lifting Cat’s clinging, shaking body with him.

“Here then,” he murmured. “What’s all this?”

“You’re leaving us. You don’t even care about us. You’re going away, and I’ll never see you again.”

At least that’s what he thought she said. He cut a look at Helen and mouthed Give me a few minutes.

Helen shut the door and he sat down on the bed, gathering his scattered wits and staring at the dog—who was shooting him accusatory looks.