companions, but he felt as though he owed it to Louisa. If he palmed her off on some female friend, she would probably feel as though he was abandoning her. Not that he had any obliging female friends in any case, or many friends at all for that matter. The last few years he hadn’t exactly been a social butterfly.
No, he’d have to spend a bit of time helping Louisa settle into her new life. Once she was used to living as his ward and had a suitable companion he would be able to back off a little and return to his normal life.
The footman entered one final time, bringing dessert. Robert watched as Louisa’s eyes lit up at the sight of the fruit crumble that was placed in front of her.
‘Do you like fruit crumble?’ he asked.
Louisa nodded and Robert was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
‘It was my mother’s favourite,’ she said.
He didn’t know what to say. Louisa stared for a few long moments at the dish in front of her, then stood abruptly.
‘Please excuse me,’ she said, then fled the room.
Robert was left staring at the door, wondering whether he should go after her.
‘Best leave her for the night,’ Mrs Kent said as she watched Robert pace the hallway. ‘Poor duck has had a hectic day, I’m sure she’ll be happier in the morning.’
Robert glanced up the stairs one final time before retreating to his study. He’d never professed to understand women.
Louisa dried the tears from her cheeks and tested the door handle for the tenth time. It was strange not to be locked in and every few minutes she wondered if she’d imagined her freedom and just had to test the handle again.
The corridor outside her room was quiet. She’d listened as slowly the household had retired for the night and now she was sure she was the only one still awake. She looked left and right, allowing her eyes time to adjust to the darkness. There was no one there.
With one final glance into the bedroom Louisa stepped out into the corridor. As she crept along in the darkness she allowed her fingers to trail across the plush wallpaper, luxuriating in the expensive textures. Everything in this house was the polar opposite of the asylum, from the wallpaper and plush carpet to the kindness of the inhabitants. For a second Louisa hesitated. Maybe she was being foolish.
She probably was being foolish, but in her mind it was her only option. For a little while, during the delicious dinner Robert Fleetwood had given her, she’d allowed herself to dream. She’d wondered if he had meant everything he’d said: the promise of safety and security, the life of comfort as his ward. On first impressions he seemed a good man, an honest man, but despite all that Louisa knew she couldn’t stay with him.
She’d vowed to herself that if she ever escaped from the asylum she’d never be dependent on another human being again, and most especially not a man. Although in her darkest moments she’d dreamt of a man such as Robert coming to rescue her, Louisa knew fairy tales didn’t exist and she was better off relying only on herself. She had resigned herself to a lonely life, but loneliness was better than betrayal.
Silently she crept down the stairs, pausing every few steps to check no one else was stirring.
Louisa knew the streets of London were cruel and unforgiving to young women with no money or connections, but at least she would be dependent on no one but herself. She couldn’t bear growing close to Lord Fleetwood, starting to enjoy her new privileged lifestyle, only to have it ripped away again. It would be better never to experience it, to not know what that life could be like. Because it would be ripped away. It might be in a week or in a year, but Louisa knew that all good things in life didn’t last. One day, when she was least expecting it, her life would again be turned upside down.
Louisa reached the front door and quietly started to unlock it. Only a couple of minutes and she would disappear into the anonymity of the London streets. As she pulled the door open she wondered if she should leave a note for Lord Fleetwood, an explanation of why she had left, but decided against it. Although he might protest otherwise, Louisa doubted she was little more than an inconvenience to his ordered lifestyle. He’d saved her from the asylum and she didn’t doubt he was a good man, but he’d done it out of a sense of duty, to right the wrongs of his great-uncle. Within a few days she doubted she would even enter his thoughts.
Louisa wouldn’t forget him quite so quickly, though. Her knight in shining armour, the man who had actually believed she wasn’t insane and rescued her from a lifetime of misery locked in Lewisham Asylum. Louisa knew Robert Fleetwood’s face would grace her dreams for many nights to come.
She slipped out into the darkness and gently pulled the door closed behind her. As she heard the latch click she knew there was no going back now. Taking a deep breath, Louisa pulled the shawl Mrs Kent had lent her across her shoulders and walked down the steps. It was a chilly night, the sky was clear and cloudless and the air crisp, but Louisa was no stranger to cold. In the asylum the winter nights had been almost unbearable. More than once Louisa had thought she would perish from the icy temperatures alone.
With one final look at the house she’d felt most at ease in for the last nine years, Louisa hurried off down the street. It wouldn’t do to linger. Every second she remained, a little bit of her resolve weakened. She turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared into the night.
* * *
Robert woke up, gasping for air. The screams and shouts that had been haunting him in his dreams faded into the darkness, but he was left with a pounding heart and his muscles tensed, ready for action. He knew if he closed his eyes he would see the faces of his fallen comrades as clear as the day they had died. He might have come home from the war over two years ago, but the awful sights he had seen still haunted him at night.
Slowly he sat up in bed and reached for the glass of water he kept on his nightstand. It was tepid, but as the liquid hit his throat, Robert didn’t care—it was more about distracting himself from his nightmare than needing a glass of water.
He sank back down on to his pillows and lay staring up at the ceiling, knowing he would not get a wink more of sleep. Not that he wanted to. If he succumbed to the tiredness that flowed through him, making his eyes droop, he knew he would be right back on the battlefield, looking at the agonised faces of his friends as they took their last breaths.
As he lay in the darkness he listened to the sounds of the house. It was quiet outside. His closest neighbours on either side were elderly couples who didn’t attend any social events and his house was off the main thoroughfare so they didn’t get many passing carriages. Inside the house there was the occasional creak of wood, but it sounded as though all the servants had retired for the night.
Robert was contemplating getting up and heading down to his study to look over some papers when the distinctive click of the front door being closed came to his ears. He listened for any further sound, but the house was entirely silent.
Rising quickly from his bed, he strode over to the window and pulled back the curtains. He looked out into the moonlit street. Louisa was just turning away from the house, pulling a woollen shawl tighter around her shoulders and walking off down the street.
For a moment Robert froze as his mind tried to process what he was seeing. He couldn’t understand why Louisa was out in the street, leaving his house.
After a couple of seconds he sprang into action. In this instant it didn’t matter why she was leaving, it just mattered that she was. Or more specifically that she was out on the streets of London all on her own in the middle of the night. Even in a neighbourhood like this Robert doubted she’d survive more than an hour before she ran into trouble.
He pulled on a pair of trousers and threw a shirt over his head. The foolish woman would be a few streets away by now. He had to find her before she disappeared into the anonymous heart of London.