“And ruin’d love when it is built anew,
grows fairer than at first,
more strong, far greater.”
My feet touched the rocky path in front of the home of Lord and Lady Trowbridge in the late afternoon. Everywhere I looked I saw green. From bright, lush green to deep and dark emerald green—all breathtakingly beautiful and like nothing I could have imagined. The sky was still grey, but with patches of blue that peeked through the thin clouds. Trills of birdsong met my ears, and I smelled the flowers and sweet, salty sea air. The breeze was cool against my skin. My eyes swept over the surrounding landscape, and my heart beat fast with joy, nerves, and a strong sense of belonging all at once.
My mind traveled back to when I had seen the painting by James’s mother in the secret room at Brackenridge Hall. The colors were even more vivid now, seeing Craster in the spring through my own eyes. As I walked away from the carriage, it felt like I was breathing for the first time in months.
I inhaled slowly in an effort to calm my racing heart and scattered thoughts, savoring every detail of this place I had missed so dearly.
I was home.
Anna followed behind me as I made my way toward the front door. I glanced heavenward and prayed that Clara would be home…and that she would forgive me. I had missed her wedding. I had missed so much.
James could be anywhere, and I needed Clara’s help to find him. My stomach fluttered violently at the thought of seeing James again. What would he do? What would he say?
I thought of when he had kissed me, and my face tingled with heat. A small part of me still wondered if these last ten days had changed his mind all over again. Love was a fragile thing in my mind, and I feared every second that passed could still break it.
I knocked briskly on the door. Seconds later, the butler opened it with an inquisitive eyebrow, but then Clara appeared behind him. She wore an elegant pink gown, her hair arranged at the crown of her head. I had never seen anyone so beautiful.
My face broke into a smile and my eyes welled with tears. “Clara,” I choked.
She gasped and ran forward, throwing her arms around me. “Charlotte! Wh-what are you doing here? When did you arrive?” her voice was quick. She pulled away to look at my face. She looked shocked to see me, happy—but also frantic.
“Just now,” I said. “I’m very sorry, Clara. I should have listened to you, I should have stayed. You were right.” My head was shaking. “I wish I had been here for your wedding. I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your letters. I missed you, and I love you. I was just—” I sighed, at a loss for words to explain my stupidity. “I cannot wait to speak with you more, but right now I must find James.”
She put a hand over her mouth, eyes round.
“What? What’s wrong?” Dread pounded through me. I looked up and saw Lord Trowbridge walk into the entryway. Clara stepped back and whispered something to him. His gaze fell on me, his brow creased with concern.
Clara turned to face me again and gripped my shoulder. “Charlotte…James left this morning. He didn’t say where he was going or how long he would be away.”
My heart fell. What could have made him leave? “He didn’t give any reason? Nothing at all?”
Lord Trowbridge stepped forward. “He had received a letter. I suppose it was something important.”
I whirled around to where Anna stood just beyond the open door. She must have heard it too, because her eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.Your letter, she mouthed.
Of course. James would have received the letter I wrote to him by now. He must have read it and chosen to come to me instead.
It was a dreadful misunderstanding.
I needed to stop him at once.
Panic took flight inside me. He was several hours ahead of me. How could I reach him before nightfall?
“I must catch him!” I faced Clara and Thomas. “Will you help me?”
A small grin lifted Clara’s lips, but Lord Trowbridge just looked confused.
“Please, I must stop him.” My voice came so fast I could hardly understand it. “He sent me a letter, you see, but I sent one to him first, and now he has received mine before I returned here to him, so I conclude that he is on his way to Hampshire as we speak, where he thinks I’m waiting for him. But I amhere.” I took a deep breath.
Clara gasped. Then she laughed. “How romantic! Is that not awfully romantic, Thomas?” She turned her nose up to herhusband, and his stony expression softened. “How shall we help them?” she asked.
Lord Trowbridge planted a quick kiss on her forehead and turned to me. “He cannot be more than an hour ahead. I will have my lightest phaeton equipped immediately.”
“Thank you!”
