I leaned back slowly and let my head tip back against the seat. People moved around me in a constant blur, families, business travelers, and couples saying quick goodbyes or distracted hellos.
Their lives were going on while mine had just taken a serious nosedive. I’dstepped backwhen it had mattered and now she was gone.
A sudden burst of movement to my right pulled my attention and I focused just in time to see a woman rushing into theterminal, slightly out of breath and frantically scanning the crowd. “Daniel!”
Her voice cut through all the other noise and I leaned forward, wondering if at least she was going to get her happy ending. She raced over to the security line, her eyes darting over all the people waiting.
“Daniel!”
A man near the front of the line turned slowly. He looked exactly how I felt. Tired. Defeated. Like he’d already accepted something he didn’t want to, but everything about him changed when he saw her.
“Lisa?” He didn’t hesitate, just vaulted the barrier like a world class athlete and ignored the immediate protests from security around him.
He didn’t pay attention to the startled looks from the other passengers either, just sprinting to her. She met him halfway and they collided more than embraced, their arms wrapping around each other like they were holding on for dear life.
I wasn’t sure if it was a romantic, teary goodbye or the start of something new, but as I watched them, I realized that this was it. Neither of them had hesitated or taken a polite step back, and suddenly, I knew exactly what I needed to do. Exactly what I was fighting for.
Even if my family balked or we drew public scrutiny. Even if it blew up in ways I couldn’t even begin to predict. None of that mattered. Hell, in comparison to losing her, none of those things were even a blip on my radar.
I pushed to my feet, resolve spreading through me like wildfire. I was going to get her back. No matter what it took.
CHAPTER 42
ELIZA
Roderick House in London felt surprisingly warm and welcoming when I arrived, which was odd since I’d never liked the place much. But now, it was the closest thing I’d felt to home in weeks. If it would’ve been acceptable, I would have sunk to my knees and kissed the floor.
As it was, however, I didn’t want any of Father’s household staff fainting if I should do something as unbecoming as kissing the floor. Instead, I paused just inside the front door, taking in the polished wood floors, the muted red color of the walls, the centuries-old furniture, and the faint scent of something floral—fresh arrangements, no doubt—and nearly started weeping.
It suddenly didn’t matter that Roderick House was not Roderick Castle. I was home, and that was what mattered.
I slid out of my coat and hung it on the rack by the door. I finally felt like I could breathe again. Logically, I knew I couldn’t outrun my problems. Booking a flight and crossing an ocean didn’t mean that anything had been solved, but emotionally, it felt like it had.
I started down the hallway, the familiarity of it all wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. This was life as I knew it,down to the artwork on the walls and the way the light filtered in through the tall windows.
Voices drifted from one of the sitting rooms ahead, their tones light and conversational, even punctuated by the occasional laugh. I slowed as I approached, not entirely sure I was ready for people yet, but I knew I had to at least say hello before I disappeared upstairs.
When I glanced into the room, I suddenly found myself wishing I had simply vanished to my bedroom like a thief in the night. Winnie stood in the middle of the room with a dress draped around her that made her look like she’d stepped straight out of a bridal magazine.
It was made of pale pink fabric. A seamstress crouched at her feet making adjustments with quick, practiced movements. It seemed I’d walked in on a dress fitting for the wedding.
Mywedding.
The arrangements hadn’t simply paused just because my world had imploded. I was staring at proof of that. In the flesh.
Winnie turned slightly, examining herself in the mirror with a focused, critical expression on her face. “I don’t like that fold at my hip, Eleanor. It makes me look lumpy.”
The seamstress glanced up at her. “Of course, Lady Roderick. I’ll pin it down and we’ll see about draping it differently.”
Winnie’s nose wrinkled, but she sighed and continued giving her notes, not even noticing me. The bride. The person the entire event was supposedly centered around.
I stood there for another second, half hidden in the doorway, just watching her.
“Take it in just a touch at the waist as well,” Winnie said, gesturing absently.
The seamstress nodded and immediately jumped into action, and I had to bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it all. I’d flownacross the world in the middle of an emotional breakdown, and somehow, I was stillperipheral.
The least important person in my own wedding.
