Two days ago, Darius had set off from London. And now he was here, in the middle of God-knew-where, reflecting that this quest was cursed and that he might as well forget it. He would have done so if it weren’t for that same, niggling urge that would not leave him alone. Audrey had rejected Roddy’s proposal because of him, she had said as much. But had it been because she was worried that she would encounter him if she married into the family or was it because of something else, something far more meaningful? If he only knew the answer, then he reasoned that he might know what to do next. Because at the moment, he was well and truly stymied as to his next course of action.
It had all made a kind of sense back in London, or at least as much sense as anything did.
But right now, it appeared to be a ridiculous piece of whimsy that would gain him nothing. He had not thought himself capable of whimsy, not at the advanced age of seven and twenty. But a long, cold ride had given him the opportunity to reason out the issue and he could see now that he’d strayed far from his usual, sensible course. He had been happy enough because he had recognized his boundaries, creating a life that was comfortably free of any real emotional entanglements.
And yet here he was, standing in the snow. All because of a woman.
Tomorrow he would start back for London and the moment he arrived he would secure a passage on a ship to France. It was time he immersed himself in all that Italy and Sicily had to offer, as he did every year at this time. Let’s just see how six months spent in familiar, more hospitable climes could do for his restless spirit. Hell, why should he stay only six months? There was no pressing reason that he needed to return to England now that Constance was free of her useless husband and Roddy had attained his twenty-third year and was in control of his fortune. Darius had done his duty and handed over the reins of the Allingham estate to his half-brother, just as their father had wanted him to and now Roddy’s financial future was in his own hands. Darius was free to go wherever he wished, for as long as he wished, with whomever he wished. Usually, it was in his own company for he had always preferred it that way, ever since his father’s death.
Yes, he’d concluded some miles back as he had slogged on through the thick blanket of snow, it is time to shake free of this folly and take myself in hand. No more thoughts about a girl with honey-gold hair and large, innocent eyes. The memory of that damned kiss and those two, brief meetings will fade in time and Audrey Hathaway will be nothing more than a vaguely disturbing memory. I just need to get away for a time…
It should have been comforting to have come up with such an excellent plan but he was still troubled by the thought that he had been the reason Audrey had turned Roddy down. Devil take it, what were her feelings towards him? Did she lay awake at night, as he did, thinking about their encounters? He had never felt such a rampant desire to know what was in another person’s heart before and it made him feel ridiculously vulnerable. That one girl could affect him so profoundly, could haunt his dreams, and invade his head with memories that had the power to set him on fire.
He might be all kinds of a fool – indeed, he could not be anything else – but he felt as if she belonged in his arms. More than that, he could not escape the feeling that she belonged in his life, at his side, in his bed. Oh, most assuredly in his bed!
Puppy love, you wretched fool. And at your age, too…
How unutterably sad.
Mouth tightening, he hammered on the door again. A large man, presumably the landlord, opened the door, wiping a hand on the dishrag he held as he beamed at the newcomer. It did not take a great deal to explain his situation and Mr. Fumble was more than happy to oblige.
‘A bed for the night, you say? I’m sure we can accommodate you, Sir. Tis fierce bad weather we’re having and no mistake. I’ve got one bedchamber left and I’ll have the fire lit in it immediately. We’ve had a couple of parties take refuge here but not to worry, there’s room enough. You’re just in time, dinner is on its way.’
‘You have other guests staying?’ Darius inquired, thinking back to those horses in the stables. He had not seen a carriage but then, a carriage would undoubtedly be housed in the barn, the stables not being capacious enough to hold anything bigger than a cart.
‘Oh aye, that we do, Sir. Quite a full house tonight. A nice family arrived last night before dinner and we’ve had another lot come in a couple o’ hour ago. They’re gentry, like yourself, Sir so I expect it’ll be pleasant enough. They’ve taken up in the front parlor but I’m sure they’ll be pleased to share. I’ve got a good fire going in there.’
Darius was mildly dismayed to hear that there was an entire family in residence; it would necessitate conversation he would have preferred to avoid. But it was cheering to hear about the fire. He was willing to be civil to a whole host of people if he could only thaw out a little. ‘It’s damned cold.’
‘It is an’ all. But I reckon the snow’ll hold off for a couple of days now before the next lot comes down.’
‘Country wisdom, Mr. Fumble?’ Darius murmured wryly.
‘Sensitive knees, rather. One always knows when it will be damp, the other when the sun’ll come out. We’re due for some sun tomorrow, just you wait an’ see.’
‘I trust your knees have the right of it.’
A curious sensation overtook him as he went down the hallway. Even before the landlord had opened the door, even before either of them had stepped into the room, Darius suddenly experienced an odd sense of inevitability, as if this moment had been meant to happen from the moment he had swung himself into the saddle back in London yesterday. He did not know why he felt so certain but the sense of predestination settled like a tangible weight around his shoulders. He listened vaguely as Fumble spoke but he was already stepping past him, his eyes instinctively seeking out the one face that he knew he would find.
The face that he had carried with him constantly over the past four months.
The girl who had brought him out in this wretched weather on a search that he hoped would free him from a memory he could not forget. For he was inclined to think he had been bewitched, that night at Almack’s when he had taken a lovely young woman into his arms and kissed her. He had not meant for it to happen but there had been no turning back after he had touched her.
And here she was, the girl who had been haunting his dreams. His eyes fixed on her face and he stared at her, watching the color drain away once more, leaving her deathly pale. Their eyes locked and a strange surge of triumph rushed through him, a sense that he had finally done what fate had intended him to do all along. He had found her at last. He could hear a familiar voice utter an exclamation but he was barely aware of the words, his whole being suddenly occupied with the one thing in the room that meant a damn.
Audrey Hathaway was here. Now he would have the opportunity to understand what it was that had changed in his world since the first night he had met this girl.
He took a half step forward, then stopped abruptly as she slid gracefully off the chair, falling across the rug in a dead faint.
Without a word, he strode across the room and swept her up into his arms.