“Good.”
We reach the hitching post behind the lodge and there are people at the windows, many of whom probably despise me the way that publican had. I tug his arm. “Must we go in?”
“Wait here if you like. I shall be quick.” With a squeeze of my hands, he slips inside.
I lean against the wall and sigh, trying to summon the peace I felt walking into Dunn Cottage.
Just as I’m beginning to wonder where he’s gone, footsteps sound. I rush out to meet him, arms out. “Oh Rupert, I—”
But it’s a stranger. A tall, elegant woman with arms crossed and an icy air. “Merryn?”
“Yes,” I breathe. Should I run or stay?
She looks me over, hollow to hem. “After all these years. I truly believed you were gone.”
“Actually, I’ve—”
“Lost your memory. So I’ve heard. Rupert is quite elated.”
“He’ll be back soon.”
“I’ve no doubt of that—you’re his treasure. He won’t let you out of his sight.” Her lips turn down and I once again sense I ought to apologize. “I’m Laura, by the way. You won’t remember me, but I’ve been tending to Rupert through his…” She twirls her hand.
“I took out an advert in the papers,” I say, crossing my arms. “I didtryto return.”
She gives a short laugh. “You think any of the papers come down Newlyn way? We’re a closed-off lot.”
I open my mouth, defenses piling up behind one another, but she interrupts. “I think perhaps you ought to know your mind this time. His heart has already been dashed into a million pieces. You returning only to leave again a year later will turn it todust.” She approaches, her face close to mine. “Either come back for good or leave now and never show your face again.”
I meet her glare. “Pardon me, I believe I’ll see what’s keeping him.” I slip through the door and inside is a great meeting hall, a beamed ceiling, wide-open spaces filled to the brim with music, laughter, and chatter. Artists moving here and there, lounging on couches, clinking glasses and exclaiming at high volume.
“There you are!”
Shock and panic assails me as an arm slides around my shoulders and anchors me close.
His voice is cheerful, but his smile is tight. “You’re awfully hard to trace, Merryn Winthrop.”AJ.
My soul withers. Laura watches me through slitted eyes from across the room. How I’ve bungled things.
AJ’s grip is hard. “Always going off without me. It’s a terrible habit.” He’s guiding me toward the door, his grasp firm, allowing me no escape.
I pull away. “I’m staying here.”
He leans near. “We haven’t time, Merryn. There’s trouble brewing in Cheltenham.”
Just then Rupert charges across the hall, bag in hand. “What do you think you’re doing? Unhand her!” He swings the bag, but AJ dodges it. Rupert grabs for my arm. AJ pulls me away.
“She isn’t yours, mate.”
“Stop it! Both of you.” I twist away and force my body between them, a palm on each of their chests. Laura is perched on a stool, watching with a drink in hand, eyebrows raised. I turn to AJ, steeled by all I know about him and his past. His intentions with me. “Iamhis. Before I even met you. So yes, I’m leaving here—but not with you.”
His face pales. “You…marriedhim?”
I glance at Rupert for strength, then forge ahead. “This is Rupert Covington. My husband.”
Rupert slides his arm around me, underscoring the statement, and both men go perfectly still. It’s like a volcano taking a breath before it blows. What have I done? My headache tightens, spiraling farther up my scalp, eclipsing logic.
AJ’s voice is distant. Muffled. “I’m afraid that isn’t the case,” AJ is saying. “You see, she’s married to me.”
