Page 23 of A Meddlesome Match (The Vaughns #3)

“Here you are,”

declared Howard without preamble, his lips pulled into that cocky grin that had once made Sadie swoon. “Why didn’t you attend the meeting? I was hoping to chat after all that business was over, only to discover that you never even arrived. It is unconscionable, Sadie.”

“Do not speak to me so informally, Mr. Gibson,”

she said, clasping her hands before her.

Huffing, Howard crossed his arms. “Are you pouting because I threw you over yesterday?”

“Why are you even here?”

she demanded.

“I want an explanation for your absence.”

Sadie set her fists on her hips. “If you must know, my parents arrived from London, and I haven’t seen them in weeks.”

“And what is a few more hours?”

asked Howard with a frown before glancing about. “They are upstairs, resting from their travels, so there’s no reason you couldn’t attend.”

“I am in no mood to argue with you. In fact, I am not in the mood for you at all,”

she said, waving him to the door, but Howard slipped past her and settled onto the sofa.

“I am not leaving until you speak with me, Miss Vaughn.”

His tone was both chastising and mocking, just the sort of impishness that had so often caused Sadie’s heart to warm to him—regardless of any wrongdoing. But that unrepentant frown and supplication had no effect on her today.

“I am speaking with you, Mr. Gibson. You simply do not wish to hear what I am saying. Let me be. I am in no mood for your antics—”

“Come now,”

he said with a scoff. “You cannot still be angry with me about that wedding nonsense. We have spoken at length about it already, and I have apologized for my mother’s behavior. I didn’t take you for someone who holds a grudge.”

Sadie gaped at him. “You think I am in a dither because of the wedding?”

Though he mumbled more excuses for his mother’s behavior and something about bruised pride, she didn’t hear a word of it, for it was all the same. His rude behavior at the Overtons’ ball. His broken promise to assist her. His dismissiveness at this very moment. Sadie didn’t know which to address first as they all wove together into a vibrant tapestry of his selfishness. Yet he believed her to be in a pique about the wedding?

Two years of friendship, and he knew nothing about her.

Had he always been this obtuse? Or had she been that desperate for a friend? Sadie couldn’t say, and there was far more to address than she wished to share at this moment, so she settled on the most obvious offense.

“You promised to help me, and then you threw me over without a proper explanation, leaving me to struggle with all that alone. Thank heavens Mr. Walter Reed was there to lend a hand—”

“I met with Odette,”

he blurted.

Sadie straightened, her brows furrowing, and Howard shrank beneath her regard.

“I know. I am a fool,”

he muttered. “But she and her new husband have returned from Scotland to beg forgiveness from her family before they settle in York.”

With a huff and a shake of his head, Howard picked at the throw pillow beside him. “There is better work there for him, apparently.”

Sighing, he dropped his head against the back of the sofa. “I found out she was here, and I needed to talk to her. I wanted to understand…”

He shrugged and scrubbed his face. “It was a fool’s errand, but the only time she had available was when I was supposed to meet you and my thoughts were just so…topsy-turvy. It slipped my mind.”

Rising to his feet, Howard drew closer, his eyes pleading with her. “I apologize, Sadie. Please forgive me. I…”

His voice quivered, and he sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head. “I was hoping you would come today because I have missed you. I know I have been preoccupied of late, and I have treated you abominably, but I had to see her. To talk to her. To understand…”

Sadie couldn’t bear it any longer. Though hurt still bubbled beneath the surface, she couldn’t turn away his unspoken plea for comfort, and she drew her arms around him. Howard squeezed her tight, clinging to her as though she were his lifeboat in the storm.

“I wanted answers,”

he whispered. “Everyone keeps speculating about her motives, and I can’t help wondering if it is my fault. Am I such a terrible match that she would prefer a man with no prospects? To abandon her family, friends, and everything attached to her position for a tradesman? What woman would choose ostracism unless her intended husband is so wretchedly awful that she cannot bear the thought of a life with him?”

Leading him to the sofa, Sadie sat beside him as he unburdened his heart, sharing all that had weighed on him of late. And in binding up his wounds, she felt some of her own burdens lift. There was comfort in being needed, a balm that came from giving even when she felt helpless, lending her the strength to knit together the frayed edges of her own heart.

Howard still needed her. Wanted her. Clearly, he was flawed, yet he was willing to admit it—which was far better than most.

“I went to her hoping for some sort of…release. Or understanding. Something,”

he muttered. “And she was entirely unrepentant. The entire village is speculating that I did something to push her into the arms of such a man, yet she showed no remorse. Kept claiming that she had to find happiness. Or some such nonsense. As though a life with me would’ve been a misery.”

Shaking his head, Howard turned his gaze to her. “I was struck by the sight of her. This woman who I loved so dearly stood before me, unapologetic—as though the pain she heaped upon others was a mere inconvenience or an unfortunate byproduct of her happiness. How did I ever feel anything for her? How did I convince myself that she was a paragon when she is so selfish?”

Sadie’s brows rose at that. She had no answer, as it was a question she had asked herself many times to no avail, but seeing Howard come to that same conclusion made her spirits lighten.

Doubling over, Howard scrubbed at his face once more. She suspected it was to hide the evidence of emotions he didn’t want to be seen, and she simply held his free hand, allowing him his secrets. His breath shuddered the slightest bit, and Sadie drew her arm around his shoulders, holding him close as he leaned into her.

“Learn from this, Howard,” she said.

His head jerked up, and he gave her a watery smile, and in a poor approximation of her voice, he said, “Do not speak to me so informally, Miss Vaughn—”

The parlor door opened, and Mama peered inside, her brow furrowed when her gaze landed on Sadie and Howard, sitting together on the sofa.

“Mr. Gibson,”

said Mama, her tone as frosty as the moors in January.

“Mrs. Vaughn,”

he said, popping to his feet when she stepped into the room. “I was glad to hear that you and your husband have returned. I do hope your time in London was enjoyable.”

Mama met his gaze for a long, silent moment before motioning to the door. “If you please, Mr. Gibson. It has been a long day, and we are not receiving callers at present.”

Straightening, Howard bowed. “Of course, madam. I apologize for imposing.”

With a quick squeeze of Sadie’s hand and a wink, he took his leave, and she found herself staring at the parlor door as it swung closed behind him. And when her attention shifted to her mother, she discovered the lady watching her with narrowed eyes.

“I see you are still friends with Mr. Gibson,”

said Mama, moving to the seat the gentleman had just vacated.

“It isn’t his fault that his mother is opinionated and outspoken,”

said Sadie, returning to her armchair.

Reaching for the teapot, she found that it had cooled significantly, though the cozy had kept it warm enough. Thank the heavens she’d chosen a tisane, else the tea leaves would be steeped into a bitter mess, but Sadie liked a strong brew (as did Mama), so she poured them each a cup.

“How are you faring, sweetheart?”

asked Mama, her eyes so full of motherly concern that Sadie’s control slipped.

“That varies from day to day,”

she replied, ignoring the way her vision blurred. “It has been a strange month, but most in town have decided to treat me with pity rather than scorn. Though I do not know if that is an improvement.”

“And you have mended things with Mr. Gibson.”

The statement bore all the hallmarks of a question, though there was nothing to say—Mama had seen the state of affairs with her own eyes. So Sadie said nothing.

A sharp pain bloomed at her temple, and she pressed a finger to it before taking a sip of her tea. It wasn’t as hot as she would’ve liked, but the warmth and fragrant steam were already working to soothe her harried mind.

“His behavior troubles me,”

said Mama with a frown. “He treats you like a sweetheart when it suits and an acquaintance when it doesn’t.”

“I do not know what I feel for him, nor what the future holds for us, but I know I do not want to talk about Howard Gibson,”

said Sadie, setting the cup aside. “How is Papa? What did they do to him? It’s clear from the spasms they’ve been applying belladonna in massive quantities. To say nothing of the marks from all the bleeding and cupping.”

Mama looked no more eager to discuss that subject than Sadie had been to speak of Howard. The lady’s hands tightened around the teacup, and Sadie struggled to hold her tongue with her emotions so near the surface—and seeing her mother crack beneath the strain only stirred them further.

“He is doing what he can to heal his sight,”

said Mama, her eyes falling to the tisane. And though the lady’s muscles were taut, her eyelids grew heavy. The drink was hardly potent, but when one was already worn to shreds, the warm liquid and the blend of ingredients did their job well.

The lady was in no state to have this conversation, so Sadie rose to her feet and helped her up.

“I need to see to our unpacking,”

said Mama with a shake of her head. “Bonnie is busy with the laundry—”

“But your daughter isn’t,”

said Sadie, helping her to the door. “You are as worn as Papa and ought to be napping beside him. I can manage your things, and we can discuss this later.”

Mama paused, lifting a hand to cup her daughter’s cheek. “You are not an afterthought, Sadie Vaughn, so do not allow anyone to treat you as such. You deserve better than you believe, my dear girl.”

Sadie’s throat tightened, tears once again threatening to make themselves known. At present, “deserve”

didn’t feel like a word that belonged to her. But when her mother drew her into an embrace, she accepted the affection freely, clinging to it with all her might and reveling in the knowledge that, if nothing else, she was loved by her family.

And that was a great blessing, indeed.