Too many. Far too many to count, and yet not nearly enough.
The saddest part was that most of his memories would be trapped within a house he did not own, and was now barred from visiting ever again. And as such, he would not get to reminisce the way he might have preferred.
It would be better this way, he told himself firmly. Once he dealt with Luther – once justice was finally served – he would be gone from their lives forever. They would be safe. They would be free of him and all the destruction he had brought into their world.
Nora deserved better than a man consumed by vengeance. She deserved someone who could love her openly, without the weight of lies and manipulation shadowing his every word, every touch. Someone whose hands were not stained with the dirt of intentions, even if the revenge had been misdirected.
The thought should have brought him comfort. Instead, it only made the emptiness in his chest deepen.
Godric forced himself to turn away, to step through the door and into the afternoon sunlight. His carriage waited at the bottom of the steps, the horses stamping impatiently as the coachman checked the harnesses one final time.
He descended the steps slowly, each one feeling heavier than the last. When he reached the carriage door, he paused, his hand on the handle as he drew in a long breath.
Do not look back. Do not think about her. Do not –
“Ironwell! Stop! Damn it – wait!”
Godric's entire body went rigid at the sound of Cecil's voice. He turned to find his friend – now former friend, he supposed –running down the street toward him, and his face alight with panic.
Something cold settled in Godric's stomach. Cecil was a fit man, but he detested any sort of physical activity that required any exertion. He would not be running like that unless something was terribly wrong.
“What is it?” Godric demanded as Cecil came to a stop before him, breathing hard. “What has happened?”
“It's Nora,” Cecil gasped, his hands bracing against his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “She's – God, Godric, she's nowhere to be found.”
The world seemed to tilt beneath Godric's feet. “What do you mean?”
“I mean she's gone!” Cecil straightened; his eyes wild with fear. “She's been missing since this morning. I went to ask her to have breakfast with me, but when I arrived at her chambers, her bed was empty. I thought perhaps she had risen early, but none of the servants had seen her. Then one of the maids mentioned something about her visiting an orphanage –”
“An orphanage?” Godric interrupted, his mind already racing through possibilities, each one worse than the last.
“Yes, apparently, she goes there sometimes to read to the children. But that was hours ago, and she still hasn't returned.”Cecil's voice cracked slightly. “There are only a few hours left until the sun sets, Godric. She wouldn't stay away this long without sending word. Something is wrong. I know it is.”
Godric's hands clenched into fists at his sides. His mind was already considering the possibility that perhaps she simply wanted to spend more time with the children.
Only she would not leave her brother in the dark about her whereabouts for so long – especially not when she knew she did not have the same freedom as when he was away.
And then, like ice water down his spine, a terrible suspicion took root.
Luther.
The old warehouse where he had met with Anthony Brown was also on the outskirts of London. Close enough to several orphanages that a young woman traveling alone might be intercepted without drawing attention.
His uncle knew about Nora. Of course, he did – Godric had been staying at Hadleigh Manor for weeks. Luther would have made it his business to know exactly where Godric had been spending his time, and with whom.
If Luther suspected that Godric had discovered the truth, if he thought for even a moment that his carefully constructed lies were unravelling...
“Godric?” Cecil's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp with desperation. “Do you know something? Please, if you have any idea where she might be –”
“I might,” Godric said, the words coming out clipped and cold as he pulled open the carriage door. “Stay here. If I am wrong, I will return within the hour. If I am right... I will bring her back safely. You have my word.”
“I'm coming with you,” Cecil said immediately, moving toward the carriage.
“No.” Godric's voice was sharp enough to make Cecil stop in his tracks. “If I am correct about where she is, having you there will only complicate matters. Trust me, Cecil. Please.”
For a long moment, Cecil stared at him, conflict warring across his features. Then, slowly, he stepped back.
“One hour,” he said, his voice tight. “If you are not back in one hour, I am coming after you both.”
