Once Beloved by Amara Royce Page A

of this?”
    â€œIt would have served no purpose, Lena. Truly. You were happy here in London. When I arrived, Bartholomew was a babe. You had no intentions of returning. Why trouble you?”
    The stunned woman stumbled from the loose embrace of her friend and her sister and slumped into an upholstered chair. He felt a sharp flare of pity for her but quickly snuffed it out. Ignorance of the consequences didn’t absolve the sin.
    â€œOur fathers fleetingly considered pairing Miss Elizabeth with my brother immediately after your departure, Mrs. Martin,” he said, flatly. There! That pained confusion on their faces was the least penance these two could provide. “But the damage had already been wrought.” He couldn’t—and wouldn’t—keep the bitterness out of his voice. “The company decided Marksby was an unsuitable location after all and moved on. Even with the continued possibility of merging our lands, the village was found lacking. That was the sweeping result of your little personal matter .”
    He could practically see Mrs. Martin turning the news over in her mind, making sense of it, as she grew paler and paler. She looked back and forth between her sister and her friend; whether for confirmation or for absolution, he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. The devastation wrought by her decision couldn’t be rectified; there was no pardon to be had. She simply couldn’t return.

Chapter 5
    H ow could this be? How could she have been kept in the dark for all this time? No, the idea that one girl’s choice of husband could harm the entire village was preposterous! Mr. Lanfield had reason to despise her, but Helena would not be dissuaded from honoring Gran’s request. Her heart swelled as she recalled the words written in Gran’s abnormally wavering script. Come quickly. So she would. She’d hoped for so many years that her parents would send that invitation, but they hadn’t. Now she had the opportunity she’d longed for, to return to her childhood home and see what was left of her family there.
    â€œI have just the solution, ladies!” Marissa exclaimed in her characteristically abrupt and domineering manner. “You should accompany Mr. Lanfield home to Marksby! It’s perfect, as if the Fates conspired for you—” Really! Marissa’s ability to take charge of a situation was essential when the Needlework ladies saw an opportunity for social improvement, but this was one of the worst solutions she could ever suggest.
    â€œMr. Lanfield?” Lizzie interrupted with a horrified tone that matched the emotion rising in her throat. “Oh, Marissa, you have no idea how awful that plan would be! Lena simply shouldn’t go.”
    The man grimaced too. He was no more in favor of that ridiculous idea than any of them were.
    â€œI thought, Mrs. Clarke, that the point of my presence here was to dissuade your friend from her disastrous plan.” He gritted his teeth, almost laughably, and said, “As a gentleman, I could hardly refuse to assist a lady in need, but I can’t emphasize too strongly how very poorly your friend’s return to Marksby would be received. It would be disastrous.”
    Could hardly refuse . Hmm. As if any force in this world would persuade her to accept assistance from a man whose every word, deed, and look conveyed his hatred and disdain. Unbidden, she felt the fleeting sensation of being cradled in firm warmth, the first sense of security she’d felt in years. Fine, perhaps not every deed. But he hadn’t known who she was in that moment. Nothing since then suggested he would offer her the slightest glimmer of warmth, or care one whit for her security. She would make her way to Marksby according to her own devices.
    â€œMy dear Marissa,” she began tightly, refusing to address Mr. Lanfield, who had not, in point of fact, offered assistance. This was Marissa’s