It was a hard question to ask, but he needed to know the answer. “Do you regret it?” The hesitation that followed almost broke him.
Her head was down. He wanted to look into her eyes. See the passion from before. Hear her say that she loved him.
“No.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t regret anything. I just…need time to think. I’ll take the carriage and start back to Goodgreen Hall early tomorrow morning to tell Charlotte that the proposal was all a mistake. You can find your way back, I’m sure. I just…can’t…I want time to think. I need to share this news with Charlotte. She’ll be disappointed. Or then again, if you’re right, maybe she won’t be disappointed at all. Maybe this was all about me.”
“Maybe.” He couldn’t argue that. If she wanted to be wrapped up in herself and think everything in life was about her, he couldn’t be the one to dissuade her of that notion. After their first kiss, he thought some things had changed within her. It was almost as if something clicked inside of her and she opened up. But perhaps he had been wrong. People were people. They weren’t that likely, and that quick to change. She had been right about one thing. It was too fast. Points for her. More the pity.
Love was a fickle thing. If one didn’t chase it, it appeared. If one tried to grasp it too tightly, it disappeared.
Quinn should chalk this up to another life lesson learned, but for some reason, he just knew it wasn’t going to be easy to put all of this out of his mind. Thankfully he had some big news to attend to tomorrow. An entire dukedom waiting for him. A purpose. A full of people, animals, estates, and problems purpose. That sounded like enough to keep a man busy for a while. Hopefully just long enough to get over what he thought was love.
“Goodnight, Kat.”
Chapter 18
RIDINGINTHECARRIAGE,heading back to Goodgreen Hall should have felt like a relief. It should have felt like a weight lifted off her shoulders. She should be able to breathe easier. Stretch out her legs. Fully be herself. No expectations. No obligations. No restricting and complex feelings. She should just be able to return to England and proceed with life as usual. That was the plan.
How ironic that now that Quinn was a duke she didn’t want him. He could have his dukedom and do whatever he wanted with it.
Quinn had an entirely new facet of his life to attend to. Seeing his face when he heard the news about him inheriting a dukedom proved shocking. The man could be shaken, that much was clear. In knowing him for as long as she had, she had only ever seen him crack twice. Once for her honor. And once in learning he had a new identity.
And even still, how he cracked, with steel for eyes and brushstrokes for tones, revealed him to be a complex man. Perhaps just complex enough, just volatile enough, for her to say no to though. She wanted to avoid complex. Eschew disappointing. Bypass tumultuous. She also did not want life to just happen to her. She wanted to make her own choices. Fate could push her as far as it wanted in any direction it chose, but at the end of the push, she would be sure to have her say.
So it only made sense for her to leave.
Explaining their diverging paths was an easy lie. Charlotte needed to know the truth. Quinn needed to sort out his newfound ducal status. So Kat was taking the carriage to head back to Charlotte and share the news. That’s what she was telling herself at least. It wasn’t that she was running away from Quinn or protecting herself from the unpredictable and volatile nature of love. Who had time for disappointments? All she wanted was security, time, and funds to do whatever she wanted in life.
But what if what she wanted was to just snap her fingers and have Quinn riding up to her carriage again?
Snap!
A few seconds passed. Kat’s chest tightened as she held her breath waiting for something magical to happen. Her heart was beating in rhythm to a ticking clock. Waiting. Counting. Waiting. Beating.
Then, she gasped as she heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching. It couldn’t be. She pressed her cheek to the window, shamelessly, like a small child at Gunter’s ice shop eager for a treat.
She scrutinized the horse as its nose appeared. That gave her no indication of anything since she had no clue who Quinn was riding. She noticed the shape of a black riding boot attached to a thick, muscular thigh. Her heart hammered, awaiting a shout, a knock. Anything.
The rider passed.
She slunk back into the squabs. Why hadn’t he come after her? It was foolish to think he would. She just wanted to know that he wanted her. If only fate would make it align for them. Oh, how she blamed fate. It was easier than blaming herself. And wasn’t fate at fault? Truly. Faugh, fate!
But then…wasn’t her complaint to Quinn all about fate’s constraints? Didn’t she want control over her choices? How could she make such demands on fate and desire free will at the same time? She either accepted fate’s decision or took her fate in her own hands.
Fate didn’t deliver Quinn. The disappointment of that realization was far heavier than the disappointment he had caused her. No, fate hadn’t delivered Quinn. So maybe she needed to deliver herself. The carriage rolled along, jumbling her thoughts, but somehow tossing them in the air at random produced a new combination upon their landing.
She loved Quinn. She knew that before it was announced he was a duke. She loved him before the great letdown of his reckless decision to call out Egan for a duel. Would not every man eventually fail her in some way? Had not every person in her life disappointed her at some time? Could she not come to accept that a man’s morals were utterly entwined with him being mortal? Man’s philosophies were fallible. His ethics errable. And so and so forth, until she rapped on the ceiling of the carriage.
They were both heading south back toward England, only Quinn had taken a somewhat parallel road to go the direction of his newly acquired estates. Kat stopped the driver and found out that there was a road coming up that they could take which would intersect with the road Quinn would be on. By the time Kat had left in the morning, Quinn was still arranging horses. If she could just make it in time to cross his path, she could catch him. And if not, she would just march up to his home–strange calling it a home when he had not even seen it yet, nevermind entered it yet–knock on the door, and demand…something. That part of the plan hadn’t been conceived yet.
Surely it would come about soon enough. There were only so many possible outcomes. The carriage raced as fast as it could. The jostling rougher than before. But she had a new mission. A very clear and purposeful mission. Give love a chance.
He had chased her. Now she would chase him.
As fate would have it, funnily enough, Kat’s carriage caught up to Quinn just in sight of Lanston Manor. His home.
The carriage was loud and Quinn ostensibly heard it even before he saw it. She wanted to open the door, hang out the side, and call out to him. What she really wanted to do was blow the roof off the carriage and pop out, as if presenting herself as a gift for him. Who knew how well he would receive it though.
He had stopped his horse at the front door of the manor and stood waiting. There were a few carriages around, seemingly more than would be necessary for an estate with no duke in residence.
