Part 28 (1/2)
Shaking his head Ames said, ”He has left London. I do not know where he has gone. Mayhap the letter will tell us.”
”There was nothing for Joanne?”
The voices, though hushed, aroused Joanne. ”Benjamin! Jason? Is he-”
”He was not injured.”
Joanne slumped back in relief. Her heart soared with thankfulness, her prayers answered. She jumped up joyfully and ran to hug the comtesse, but her aunt's look disquieted her. ”Why has he not come with you?” she asked, turning back to Ames.
”He has left London,” Benjamin answered gently.
”Why did he not come to me-at least to bid me farewell?” Her gaze went from Ames to the comtesse.
Distress filled her features.
”Does he truly believe I wish to wed Lord Humbolt?”
”Lord, Jason is-perhaps confused.” Ames searched for words of a.s.surance to ease Joanne's anguish.
”I don't think he knows what to believe just now. He will return.”
”What of my father?” Pain filled her face.
”A serious wound, but not mortal. I believe he feels some remorse. He indicated he would trouble you
no further. He is a haunted man-one to pity.”
”I-I think I may-may come to understand what ruled his behaviour,” Joanne said slowly. ”Hatred is such a-a destroyer. Mayhap some day I will understand fully-even be able to-to forgive him.”
The comtesse put her arm about Joanne. Her heart ached for the young woman. She noticed Ames
rubbing his eyes. ”Benjamin, you can explain further this eve. For now you should rest.”
”I am exhausted,” he admitted. ”If you will excuse me I shall go and return later.”
”Of course. Thank you for coming, Benjamin,” the comtesse told him gratefully. ”I will take care of her,”
she answered his questioning nod toward Joanne. ”We shall be able to think more clearly after some proper rest. Till this eve.”
Ames nodded and walked tiredly from the room.
Joanne watched him go wordlessly. Drained by the tensions of the night, fear for Jason, and his apparent rejection, her world crumbled. He had taught her how to go on and she would, but now the pain of his loss was too fresh, too deep. A sob escaped and she turned to her aunt for consolation.
Ames paused in the corridor as heartbreaking sobs came from the drawing room. Shaking his head sadly, he left.
”Let us do as Dr. Ames suggests,” the comtesse urged Joanne. ”You cannot continue this way.” Her words had no effect on the drawn, pale figure staring out the morning room's windows. ”For my sake then, please? The season is nearing its end. The heat will soon make London unbearable. Let us go.”
”As you wish,” came the uninterested reply.
”I will make the arrangements then,” Ames told the comtesse as they walked slowly away from Joanne. ”Has she been like this ever since I left London?”
”Her condition has worsened steadily, I think. At first she went out, but it is a month now and for the past two weeks she has refused to move from this house. She eats nothing, sleeps little. I am quite concerned. Is there still no word from Lord Jason?”
”None. Several times before I left I tried to see his brother, the Duke, but he never received me. Now they say he has gone to his country estate and I've received no answer to the letters I've written. I cannot understand it,” he concluded shaking his head. ”Have you heard anything about Furness?”
”Only that he has gone to Furness House-for an extended stay, the gossips say. Wiltham has disappeared probably with every sou Furness had given him.” She shrugged.
”Joanne has not spoken of either of them. She only asks each day if I have had some word from Lord Jason. It is very difficult.” The comtesse sadly shook her head.
”But, your idea is brilliant. The fresh air and activity should revive her spirits. The children, especially Ellen, should renew her interest in life. This self-pity must be broken.”
”That is what I hope for,” Ames said, glancing back toward the wan figure they discussed. ”But I must go if I am to make all the arrangements for your journey before I myself depart.”
”We shall see you soon then. I believe we can be ready in three days' time.”
He looked as if to question the wisdom of such a hasty departure.
”It will not be thought odd that we leave so suddenly,” she a.s.sured him, ”I have let it be known that returns to Kentoncombe while we are at Irwin?”
For the first time during his visit, the doctor smiled. ”It is the only hope, is it not?”
The piping of children's voices rang into the second-floor window at Irwin Manor. From it the comtesse could see a group of boys kneeling in a circle, intent upon the marbles within it. Some older girls sat against an outer wall, their sewing lying in their laps as they visited. Younger children ran back and forth, inventing some imaginary journey. She turned from the scene to answer Joanne's call.
”I am here, ma chere.”
”In Dr. Ames's library, Aunt? With all these books? You must be desperate, indeed,” Joanne teased.