She swallowed hard, feeling the fear overtake her. “There is a way. But you won’t like it.”
His hand tightened upon her shoulder. “Tell me.”
“Let her go, Callum,” Alex advised. “The Duc released us, and if you seek her again, I doubt if he’ll let you live.”
“I’m riding to the coast,” he responded. “To watch her go.”
His brother Bram rested his hand upon his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Brother. We tried.”
“She did it to save us,” he said quietly. She’d sacrificed herself for all of them, granting them their lives.
“We’ll set up camp here,” Alex said. “Go to the shore, if that’s your wish. We’ll be here when you return.”
Callum gave them a nod and mounted Goliath, urging his horse toward the beach. The animal kept up a strong pace, and when they reached the place where the ship had departed, the memories overtook him.
Here, he’d taught Marguerite to swim, before warming her with a fire and joining with her. He remembered what it was to be inside her, watching her face flush with a shattering pleasure. And the night he’d been in chains, she had come to him, offering herself.
God above, but he loved her. He loved her quiet beauty and her courage. The way she’d taught him to write, offering him a way out of the suffocating silence. Letting her go was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
And even now, he found it impossible to turn his back on her.
Callum watched the ship sailing further out, before he drew his horse south, paralleling its path until it grew too dark to see the white sails billowing in the wind.
Drawing Goliath to a halt, he watched the ship disappear into the mist. No other woman would ever mean as much to him as Marguerite. But she was gone from him now, and he had no choice but to release her.
He lowered his head to his horse, closing his eyes against the pain of losing this woman. But there was nothing more he could have done.
Nothing at all.
“You cannot do this,” the earl insisted.
“My father will never let me go, unless he believes I’m dead,” Marguerite said. “It’s the only way.”
“And if you do die?”
“Then I won’t have to suffer, living without Callum.”
“It’s reckless and foolish.” The earl shook his head, denying it. “I can’t allow it.”
“Listen to me,” she whispered. She reached up and held his cheeks between her hands. “I want both of us to be happy. Go back to England. Bring the one you love into your home, and let me go.”
She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “I want to do this, Lord Penrith.”
“Peter,” he corrected. Though he didn’t smile, she saw regret upon his face. “I’m going to lose your dowry aren’t I?”
“If I can ever find a way to repay you, I would give up every last jewel I possess.”
He let out a breath. “I know I’m going to regret this.”
“Trust me,” she promised. “All will be well.” He embraced her, and within his arms, there was no hint of attraction between them. He might as well have been a close brother.
“I will pray for you,” he offered.
“And I for your own happiness.” Though inwardly, the terror roiled against her stomach, it was time to put her fears aside and seize what she wanted. Even if it meant the greatest risk of all.
“There’s just enough light,” she said. “I have to go now.”
“You’re certain?”
