But, wait, why was Lancelot’s spoiling going to come to an end? “Why do you say that?”
The other man studied his hands as though they’d been soiled.
“Ambrosia, er, Mrs. Bloomington and I are leaving for my father’s estate tomorrow morning. She won’t be bringing the dog along. My mother wouldn’t allow a mongrel in the house. They belong in the stables.”
“Have you spoken with her recently?” Chance had to ask.
“My mother?” Cline’s brows rose. “No, but I received a letter from her just last week—“
“Not your mother,” Fool. Chance wanted to add. “Mrs. Bloomington.”
“This morning. She’s inside packing now.” He shook his head. “Women. I do believe I’ll need an additional carriage to accommodate everything she wants to bring.”
Lancelot licked at Chance’s face eagerly, apparently grateful to have been saved from… Aubrey’s betrothed.
“This morning. She’s inside packing now.”
“Say, what brings you around, Your Grace?” Cline eyed him, and for the first time appeared somewhat suspicious. “Ambrosia mentioned you were interested in horticulture. Rather generous of you to assist her with this set up. Even if she won’t be needing it much longer.”
“And why is that?”
“She won’t have use of all this. An unnecessary expense. She’ll be happier in the country.” And then he added. “As my wife.”
“It’s official then?” This was not what he had expected. Despite all of her misgivings, Chance had believed their love would conquer all. He’d believed he would not fail to convince her.
How many times had she tried to explain to him that he was only a part of her past now? And he hadn’t listened. He’d taken her passion for love.
She’d not even had the courage to tell him herself.
Chance stared beyond the man as he enthusiastically recounted the details he’d arranged for he and Aubrey’s journey. Chance was not really listening and not really seeing.
“I should be getting back inside.” He held his arms out. “I best take the little beast with me.”
Chance rubbed his chin on Lancelot’s head and then relinquished Aubrey’s dog to Richard Cline. He supposed he must Aubrey to him as well.
He’d lost.
“Good day then, Your Grace.” Cline stared at Chance strangely, but Chance didn’t care.
He’d lost.
He managed a nod. “Safe travels.”
He’d lost.
He had no idea how long he stood there after Cline disappeared with Lancelot. When he finally swallowed, and blinked. He was going to have to figure out how he would get through the rest of his life without her.
He pressed a fist against his chest, his remaining years appearing dark and void at the thought. He’d allowed himself to hope. He’d believed he’d prevail. He’d believed love would prevail.
He shook his head.
Before he could imagine the rest of his life, without hisPrincesse,he needed to get through the rest of this day. The next hour. The next minute.
Chance moved as though in a trance, completing the tasks he’d decided to accomplish. Completed his work here.
Ending his time here. Ending everything.
* * *
