“No, no,” he hurried to say, even though his gaze still traveled over her quizzically. “At least allow me to walk you to your door.”
Harriet flushed. She must be having something of a singular moment. “Of course.” She smiled up at him. “I would appreciate the company.”
*
Still warm.
Will stared at the wax stamp that held all his hope and all his heartache in one imprint.Was this it?The last one he would have to procure? He settled back against the leather seat of his carriage, finding comfort in the softness while his heart beat with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.
This should be the last. The final one.
He shut his eyes, blocking out everything except the clatter of wheels as they rolled over cobblestones, adding a comforting murmur to his mood, mimicking the sound of heavy rain.
Calm.
His finger traced over the seal.
This piece of paper would not leave his sight. Certainly, he claimed a measure of pride as a man, but acquiring a third license had stripped him clean of any he might have had left.
He didn’t care.
However, Calstone’s words, that bastard, still had him on edge. He had the betrothal agreement, and he had the license, but that meant nothing without her agreement.
Ah, Christ.
I should have done better sooner.
He hoped Harriet had eaten something. Should he rather have sent her home?
Damn Hatton.
He did not trust the man’s competence or judgment any longer. What irresponsible father did not inform his daughter of a proposal? He could have prevented so much turmoil if he had just communicated with his daughter. They could have addressed her concerns together. More than that, Harriet had run away on Hatton’s watch. Will didn’t expect parents to know the whereabouts of their children every moment, but surely it shouldn’t be that easy to slip out of the house in broad daylight with baggage, hail a cab, and set off for the docks?
Anything might have happened to her.
His gaze fixed on the streets and the people bustling about. The rush seemed to have a harmony about it today. A simplicity...
Dear God, he’d spent too much time in Calstone’s presence.
The carriage slowed to a halt. Sweat broke out across his palms, his temple. His thumb traced across the seal for a final time.
“One step, Will. One step. Everything will be all right.”
Will stepped from the carriage only to come up short when the door of his home yanked open and a man leaped over the three small steps and onto his yard. Calstone’s frantic gaze met his, and he came to an abrupt halt.
Will’s heart sank. Right down to the heels of his boots.
“You’re back?” Calstone strode over.
“What happened?” He demanded without preamble. “Where is Harriet?”
“I fell asleep,” Calstone said with a scowl, dragging a hand through his hair. “When I woke up, she was gone.”
Will cursed.
His head swung to the street.
“Perhaps she’s still in the house?”
