Redeeming the Reclusive Earl - Virginia Heath Page 0,21
feet and paced to the windows to stare out. In the distance, he saw Miss Nithercott walking home across the garden and fleetingly considered chasing after her.
‘Yes, Max. Again. You are not yourself.’
‘Of course I am not myself!’ The anger burned swift and hot. ‘Everything I was is gone and I am left with this!’ He swept his hair from his face to remind her of the damage the fire had done. ‘I lost everything, Eleanor! My life, my purpose. Miranda...’
‘Now that you are healed, the navy would have you back in a heartbeat. They only discharged you because they thought you were going to die. We all did. But you didn’t and your body has mended. They would give you a ship, Max, if you asked them. They would bite your hand off to give you a ship. And as for Miranda, she was no loss.’
He wanted to howl. Growl at something. Hurl the blasted tea tray. All the placating in the world would not eradicate the hurt. The devastation. The awful reality of that loss.
‘I never liked her. Neither did my husband. We both thought her shallow. And lo and behold—she certainly showed her true colours, didn’t she?’
It was a speech he had heard so often he had it memorised. Max allowed her to continue on without really listening. His sister now hated his former fiancée and enjoyed nothing more than castigating her. While her loyalty to him was admirable, touching even, she would never truly understand how he did not blame Miranda one bit for the choices she had made since.
He had released her from their engagement and she had moved on.
Why shouldn’t she?
She was young and beautiful and full of life, whereas he was a shell of the man he had once been and not at all the man she had once agreed to marry.
‘Are you even listening to me?’
‘Can we not talk about Miranda? She is in the past.’ Everything was in the past.
His sister was silent for a moment and nodded. ‘I am glad to hear it... But it is your future which concerns me, Max. Do you have any plans beyond hiding yourself away here?’
No.
‘This is a large estate. I thought I might try my hand at running it.’ A blatant lie, but Eleanor would not know he had also inherited a battalion of capable staff who ran a very tight ship unless he chose to apprise her. Which he wouldn’t. Between the estate manager, the gamekeeper, the butler, the gardener and his new solicitor, they had the entire task of Rivenhall well in hand. All Max had to do was sign things.
‘Well, that is good.’ She smiled as she sipped her tea and he was glad he had given her some hope, albeit false. ‘Do you have farmland, too? Tenants?’
Maybe. Probably. No doubt buried in the reams and reams of papers he had not bothered reading because he was indifferent to it all. ‘I haven’t met them yet.’ The only person he had met beyond the walls of his new household was Miss Nithercott. ‘There has been a lot to do.’
Like counting the candlesticks in the library or the tassels on the curtains in the study.
‘I can imagine... It is vast. Overwhelming, really, to picture you with a house like this. I am looking forward to a full tour later, but I am heartily impressed so far. The parkland looked...’
‘When are you going home, Eleanor?’
‘I have only just arrived. Are you wanting to be rid of me already?’
It would be cruel to tell her the truth after all she had done for him. ‘You have your own life to live, Eleanor. Perhaps it is time you dedicated your time back to Adam and the children rather than worrying so much about me.’
She squared her shoulders, suddenly defensive. ‘My husband is perfectly capable of holding the fort for a few days and my children are having a high old time with his mother who thoroughly spoils them rotten. They want to visit, by the way. Soon. They both miss their favourite uncle.’