“You will not convince me that I have done the wrong thing,” Lionel said, taking a bigger sip of his drink. “Yes, I did not give her the opportunity to decide for herself, but that is because I do not believe she would be able to make a sensible decision. Whenyou love someone, you convince yourself that your love will be enough to defeat fate. She would stay with me, certain that no harm would befall me, until it does, and she is left bereft.”
Duncan rolled his eyes. “And I say that you make the most of the life that you do have together. Have ten children, spoil them, revel in lifebecauseit is fleeting—do not deny yourself because you are afraid of events or feelings that have not happened yet.”
You do not understand. Until you have been in my position, with an axe constantly hanging over you, you could not possibly.
Lionel noticed that Edmund had been uncharacteristically quiet, listening to everything with a pensive expression upon his face.
“What isyouropinion, Edmund?” Lionel asked outright.
Edmund chewed his lower lip, one eye creasing as if he did not know if he should reply or not. “I heard something this morning,” he said, a moment later. “It made no sense to me at the time, but it does now.”
“What did you hear?” Lionel frowned.
“A servant came to the house to speak with Isolde,” Edmund replied hesitantly. “I overheard that servant telling Isolde that her mistress would be leaving for the Americas on the evening tide, and that if she wished to say farewell, she should do so today. When I went into my wife’s bedchamber, she was crying.I asked her what was wrong, but she said she would tell me later. I did not think—though I feel foolish now—that it might pertain to Amelia. I assumed she was still at Westyork.”
Lionel gaped at his friend, understanding why he had been so silent. Edmund had been piecing things together—things that struck panic into the very heart of Lionel.
“She is leaving for the Americas this evening?” he wheezed.
Edmund nodded. “If it is her, which I am almost sure it is, then yes.”
“Do you know where she is? Do you know where the servant came from? Were they familiar to you?” The questions rattled out of Lionel as his panic rose higher and higher.
Edmund shook his head. “I did not see her, but one would assume that Amelia is either at your townhouse or at her father’s.”
Lionel had spent the past few days at a friend’s apartments, not wanting to disturb Amelia until he had the divorce papers in hand. He, too, had assumed that she was at the Barnet townhouse; he had never suspected that she might actually return to her father.
“If you will excuse me,” he said abruptly, leaping to his feet. “I must find her. I must…”
He did not finish the sentence, already darting off, for if his wife was leaving for distant shores on the evening tide, then he was running out of time. There was not a second to waste.
But is this not what you wanted? Was this not the objective?his mind whispered as he ran out of the gentlemen’s club and jumped into his carriage, calling to the driver that he needed to visit his townhouse and that of Francis Thorne.
As he sat back, panting hard, shoving the divorce papers back into his waistcoat, he murmured to himself, “There is a difference between distance anddistance.”
He would not ask her to stay married, he would not ask her to return to Westyork with him, but he could not bear the notion of her leaving England without saying farewell. He would not forgive himself if he did not say goodbye, for it might be his last opportunity to do so.
At the very least, she would need the divorce papers before she departed, so she could begin her new life with no ties remaining in the old one.
The carriage jarred to a halt outside the Mayfair townhouse, though Lionel did not wait for it to come to a full standstill before he was out of the door and running up the porch steps. His leg jolted and ached, but he did not care.
He burst through the front door, startling Mr. Phipps who appeared to be in the midst of stealing away two large valises. He stopped guiltily, staring at Lionel with wide eyes.
“Apologies, My Lord,” the butler said in a tight voice. “I hoped to delay her until you arrived. Iassumedyou would come.”
Lionel’s heart sank at the sight of the luggage. “Leave them where they are. This is my wife’s decision. No one is to meddle.”
The butler set the valises down. “Of course, My Lord.”
At that moment, the sound of voices drifted down the stairwell that curved to the upper floors. Angry voices, one of which immediately made Lionel’s hackles rise.
“Who is here?” Lionel demanded to know.
The butler paled again. “Her Ladyship’s brother, My Lord. He arrived unannounced and when I tried to send him away, he pushed past me. Her Ladyship eventually permitted him to speak with her, but… I am somewhat concerned for her.”
“Then why have you not interrupted? Goodness, if your mistress is in danger, then you act!” Lionel growled, sprinting forward.
He took the steps two at a time, hurtling down the hallway, opening every door as he ran along. They had not spent any time at the townhouse together, so no chamber had been assigned toher, and as the voices had gone eerily silent, he had no indication of where she might be.
