“Darling Royce …” it began. Mary turned over the page, her eyes going to the signature at the bottom: “Yrs. forever, Sabrina.”
They were from her. He had taken Sabrina’s letters and notes and carefully bundled them together, storing them away to keep forever. In all the years since, he had never come back and thrown them away. Tears stung Mary’s eyes.
There was another letter among them, written in a different hand on different paper. When Mary examined it, she saw that it was a letter from Royce to Sabrina. She wondered whether he had never sent it or whether she had returned it to him. Slowly Mary unfolded the letter and began to read.
My Aphrodite,
I called upon you again yesterday, and again your maid turned me away. I waited beneath your window, hoping you would come to look out at me, but you did not appear. I have told myself that you do not withhold yourself from me voluntarily, that your parents demanded it of you, that it is they who force you to marry a man old enough to be your father. Oliver has assured me that is not the case, and I have refused to believe him. But when I saw you in town this afternoon, unchaperoned, with only your maid to accompany you, and you walked away from me without a word, leaving my heart trampled in the dust, I knew that it had not been Oliver who lied.
The letter went on in this manner for a time, declaring his despair over the announcement of Sabrina’s impending marriage to Lord Humphrey before descending into a bitter diatribe against Sabrina’s faithlessness:
Do the vows we made to each other mean nothing to you? When you told me that you loved me and wanted to marry me, were you lying as you spoke, or did you decide only later to make your word worthless?
He spoke of his intention to leave for Scotland, as Oliver and the old earl had arranged, and then finally, as if he could not hold them in, words of love poured forth again. He remembered the way she had looked when he had first seen her, describing her in loving detail. He recalled the things they had said and done, the way his heart beat faster whenever he saw her.
Tears welled up, blinding her, and Mary closed her eyes, letting the tears roll down her cheeks. His words had the passion and emotion of a young man, but they also carried the deep conviction of love. Could anyone who had loved so deeply, cared so much, really come to feel nothing for the person who had captured his heart?
Hastily, Mary folded the letter and put it back with the others, retying the bundle. She could not bear to read any more. She wished that she had never given in to the temptation to read it at all. Picking up her candle, Mary thrust the packet of letters back into the trunk and left the attic. She returned to her room, but she soon found that she did not want to be alone with her thoughts. So, after changing into one of her new sprig muslin day dresses, Mary made her way downstairs, hoping that she would find Charlotte also at loose ends.
She realized her mistake when she ran into Royce at the bottom of the stairs, talking to Charlotte.
“What are you doing here?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized how rude they sounded. She cast a quick, apologetic glance at Charlotte. “I mean—that is—I thought you were riding with the girls, Sir Royce.”
“No, I let them go out with the grooms this afternoon. I was discussing some business matters with Oliver.”#p#分页标题#e#
“Oh.” Mary cast about for some excuse to leave, but Charlotte was too quick for her.
“Come with us,” her cousin said, linking her arm through Mary’s. “We were just about to join Oliver in the drawing room.”
Her afternoon was going from bad to worse, Mary thought, as she smiled perfunctorily at Charlotte and followed her into the smaller drawing room at the front of the house. Now she would have to sit and make polite conversation with a number of people, including the very man she least wanted to be around at the moment.
When they entered, Fitz was apparently regaling his brother with the details of a new team of horses he was considering buying.
“But didn’t you just buy a team last year?” Oliver said mildly.
“Yes, of course, but these bays are magnificent. You’d have to see them to understand.”
Oliver smiled faintly. “Yes, I am sure that I would.” He glanced toward the others as they entered, and Pirate, snuggled next to the earl, raised his head and let out a yip of greeting.
“You will have to excuse Pirate,” Oliver told Mary. “He just finished chasing a number of squirrels back into their trees on our walk, not to mention sparrows into the sky, and he is too tired, I think, for his usual dance of joy at seeing you.”