She would leave his grace behind.
Ash sat atop Cerberus, looking down at the tower.
Leaving Alicia had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d had to summon a wall of pure will to counter the onslaught of sentiments he did not even know how to define. Vicious, jagged emotions that sliced though his being like shards of broken glass.
When he’d left, he’d planned to gallop fast.
Fast enough for the wind to lash his cheeks. Fast enough to drown out the protestations ringing incessantly in his ears. Fast enough to leave the demons behind.
The weather had not complied. A tortoise could have passed him at the pace he’d picked his way up the hill—the mist reluctantly unveiling no more than a yard of the path at a time. Now, at the summit, the fickle fog parted just enough to reveal the tower.
He groaned.
The whole morning had the marks of torture, as if he’d been leveled with yet another celestial curse. He’d been cursed before, of course, but this was a stronger damnation, a curse for a devil who’d dared steal one of heaven’s own.
He blinked down at the tower, fighting a sting in his eyes.
He had no choice but to leave, he argued for the thousandth time. Repetition did nothing to ease his roiling gut. Even his dark beast danced, imploring him to remedy his wrong.
“If I asked her to stay, we both know what would follow.”
He conjured—on purpose for once—the memory of his dead wife. He wanted the pain of Rachel’s censure—a reminder of the damage he’d done. All that came was the image of a bare Alicia, trussed with his black silk cravat, bliss shining on her face.
One night with him had been too much for Rachel. Three nights with Alicia had only whetted his taste. Shehadfollowed wherever he’d led. And now, he’d left her alone.
Every fiber of his being screamed to drive Cerberus down the hill. Enter the hall and then fall to his knees and beg. His unspoken supplications burned like acid on his tongue. He gritted his teeth.
Yes, he craved her light. But what had he to offer in return?
Darkness and perversion. A history of scandal and madness and death.
“She would be smothered,” he said aloud. “Dead, even if she managed to survive.”
Cerberus threw his head and snorted.
Ash scowled. “What do you know? You’re a horse.”
And then, as if seeing the tower had not been torture enough, more of the mist dissipated. At the center of the picture, an empty carriage.
He’d never intended to watch her go. But now... Perhaps, a glimpse.
Please.
Just one, last glimpse.
He held his breath to suppress the sensation of her head resting against his chest. Then Alicia—unattainable angel—emerged.
She walked with the regal posture of a queen—a doomed queen. He’d known at least she’d be warm, but she was not wearing the sable.
The little fool wasn’t wearing any cloak at all.
She would freeze.
Damnation, she would freeze.
Cerberus snorted and stamped.
She looked over her shoulder, as if heeding something from the hall beyond. Mrs. Kent came out, retrieved a bundle from under Alicia’s arm, and shook out...
