“Just because he’s not changed his mind doesn’t mean you’ve not loved well. You’ve not failed.” Adelaide finished her tea with an “ahh,” and set it on the tray. “Now I must be off.”
Adelaide collected the tea set and left Corina alone in her room with so many questions. Crossing to the desk, Corina fished her pen from her purse and hovered over the papers.
Love well. If she had her way, she’d tear up the papers, but she’d made a deal with Stephen. What if the first step of loving well was letting go? Of wearing the tiara of faith and drinking from the cup of esteeming another higher than herself?
“Lord, what do I do?”
Closing her eyes, breathing in, she peered at the documents. And signed. She’d messenger them to the King’s Office this afternoon.
By the time she returned to theBeaumont Post, her journey would be complete. She would be a single woman, having loved well, in word and deed, and through every shifting shadow.
TWENTY-FIVE
This just arrived for you.” Robert crossed the room with an envelope on a silver tray.
“Is this all?” Stephen tossed the envelope to his desk, sure it was the annulment papers. After he dropped her off at the Manor Friday morning, what more could be said or done than to formalize the end?
She’d promised to sign the annulment if he told her the truth. So he did. Ignoring the code of silence that went with classified.
The last two nights he woke in the darkest hours of night with the twinge of regret. Once she signed the annulment, she’d be out of his life forever.
What a very sad thing. No man should ever lose a woman like Corina Del Rey.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Robert said. “Are you ready for luncheon?”
“Not yet, thank you.” Stephen had gone straight to physio after he dropped Corina at the Manor. But feeling no strength in his ankle, he cut the session short. At the moment, the pain level nearly matched the hours right after surgery.
His vision of returning to the pitch for the Premiership blurred and faded.
Stephen sat, shoving away from the desk, taking a long, narrow view of the envelope.Come on, chap, you flew all the way to America for this. Don’t lose your courage now.
A childhood catechism slipped across his mind.Love is patient, love is kind . . .
Stephen lunged forward, snatched up the envelope, and emptied the contents. However, instead of finding the thick annulment agreement, he found a single slip of paper with an address.
Agnes Rothery,
10 Mulchbury Lane,
Dunwudy Glenn, Brighton Kingdom 12R49-H
Bird’s girlfriend. He’d be jiggered. The King’s Office had located her. At his request after theMadeline & Hyacinth Live!show last week. Bravo, King’s Office.
Stephen tapped the address into his iPhone. Dunwudy Glenn was a lovely, quaint village north of the city, two hours’ drive. The map routed him straight to Agnes Rothery’s home.
He considered his next move. Agnes knew nothing of how her man died. Just that he died a hero. She asked no more questions. Letting Bird and the past rest in peace.
But, by George, Stephen was tired of hiding from life because one rogue insurgent came gunning for him. While he’d not divulge national secrets to Agnes, he would at last keep his promise to Bird.
“If anything happens to me, see to Agnes, will you?”
“You have my word.”
To carry on anew, he must deal with all the Torkham fallout. Mend his broken promises. Then perhaps, maybe, he’d feel somewhat worthy of the air he breathed.
Gathering the paper and his phone, Stephen went to his room, showered, and pulled on jeans and a button-down. He found Robert in the dining hall.
“Ring Thomas, please. Tell him he has the rest of the day off.”
