Susan cursed herself. “Of course,” she said quickly. “You’re quite right, Catherine—I will be back very soon. I only meant that… I will miss Heathmare so much while I’m gone that I want to make sure to commit it to memory.”
That part was completely true.
She would miss this place terribly.
The very walls seemed to carry echoes of her arguments with Norman, of the times they had conspired together, of the laughter and the chess games and the night she had spent in his bed. The kiss in the foyer, when passion had finally gotten the better of them. She would remember these things. She would carry them with her.
But she couldn’t allow them to dominate her. She had to let go of the romantic hopes that had built up around her, each one like a wave crashing over her and filling her with excitement and delight. Now that the tide was receding, leaving her high and dry.
It was never real. I imagined it. There was never anything between us, so nothing has been lost.
She knew that it was true. But even so, it hurt her to admit it to herself, because she was forced to admit now that she had badly wanted his feelings to be real.
In the end, everyone had fallen for the lies.
Even Susan herself.
She sat on the bed and watched as Catherine packed away her things. Tomorrow, she would leave for Marina’s home, and thisnightmare would begin to fade. The farther she got from it, the less it would hurt.
But for now, she was forced to remain here, in the middle of the storm.
CHAPTER 30
By the time Aunt Tabitha left, the sun was getting low in the sky.
A spark of alarm shot through Norman. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, or that it was beginning to get dark outside. Susan should have been back by now. It wasn’t safe for her to be wandering around in the dark. Surely she would have had the sense to come back on her own…
Unless something happened to her.
Fear gripped his heart like a vise. What if somethinghadhappened? The very idea was a chasm opening up within him.
I would have failed her. I would have failed in my responsibilities.
That was true. And yet, he realized that wasn’t the main source of his horror at the thought of her coming to harm.
I don’t want anything to happen to her. I don’t want to lose her.
He found Mrs. Hastings in the foyer, crossing toward the kitchen. “Hastings,” he called out, urgency in his voice.
She turned toward him. “Your Grace?”
“Has there been any word of the Duchess? She ought to have been back from her promenade by now,” he said. “I’m beginning to worry. Perhaps I’ll send out a search party.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Hastings’ voice registered surprise. “I thought you knew, Your Grace. She returned a few hours ago.”
“Oh, did she?” That was a relief, he supposed—and yet, for some reason, he still found himself feeling uneasy. Why hadn't she come to see him? Perhaps she simply hadn’t wanted to socialize with Aunt Tabitha after last time? And shehadbeen avoiding Norman lately, but neglecting to even inform him of her return home seemed like an escalation. “Where is she now?”
“In her room, I believe. Catherine has been with her since her return—ah.”
Susan had appeared at the top of the stairs. Norman turned to face her, frowning. “Susan. Come down here, please.”
For a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to. Her expression tightened, and she glanced over her shoulder in the direction ofher room. He wasn’t sure what she was looking at. Catherine, perhaps?
She came down the stairs, her eyes on the ground, seemingly unwilling to look at him. She stopped right in front of him.
“You didn’t let me know that you’d arrived home,” he said.
She nodded, but said nothing.
