Uneasy and desperate to talk things through with him, to share the impending joy of parenthood with him instead of allowing loneliness and the sense of abandonment to swamp her, Sarah pondered her options. Five weeks had passed since their wedding and it was high time she faced reality. Matthew had fled. Perhaps it had been the intimacy of their wedding night, perhaps the words of love she’d spoken. Whatever the case, it hardly mattered. The only important thing was he’d left her, and while she acknowledged the threat of tears this realization brought, she refused to cry.
Instead, she located a travelling trunk and called for Anna to help her pack. Matthew had four estates. She would visit every damn one of them until she found him. And God help him when she did, because no matter what he’d been through or how frightened he might be of opening his heart and letting her in, this sort of behavior was not to be born.
#
EVEN THOUGH HIS VIEWwas blurred by thick drops of November rain, Matthew stood in the room he’d been renting at Mivart’s Hotel for more than a month and stared out the window. He was an ass. There was no doubt in his mind about that or the fact that he desperately missed Sarah.
Registered as Mr. Donovan to preserve his anonymity with the hotel staff, he’d spent the last weeks in solitude. Forcing himself to delve into his past, to reflect on every painful detail and face his demons, he’d finally come to a startling conclusion: running away didn’t help. It never had. If anything, it only ever served as a brief distraction from the torment.
Casting a glance over his shoulder, he surveyed the empty decanters and various glasses he’d used to dampen the pain. Christ, he’d been foxed. Scrubbing one hand over his jaw he decided he needed a shave. That, and some clean clothes. Perhaps even a haircut if he were being completely honest.
One thing was for sure, though. It was time to go home, time for him to be the husband Sarah deserved, to trust her to give him the help he’d been too blind to realize he needed.
It was time to tell her he loved her.
Acknowledging the emotion had probably been the hardest thing of all. He’d always been so determined never to love anyone ever again, to never put himself in a position where the possibility of loss would slowly kill him. Only now it occurred to him that in doing so he’d stopped living.
It was time for all that to change.
With a renewed sense of purpose, he took half an hour to make the room a bit more presentable, then wrote a note to his valet and called for a servant to make sure it got delivered. Albertson arrived within the hour and went straight to work on improving Matthew’s appearance.
“How is my wife?” Matthew asked while the valet ran the shaving blade down the side of his neck.
Silence followed.
Matthew frowned while a smidgen of unease crept up the nape of his neck. “Albertson?”
Albertson cleared his throat and rinsed the blade in the bowl of water he held. “It is my understanding that Her Grace departed for Sunderland Hall this morning.
“What?”
“If you would please hold still for a moment, Your Grace, I’ve yet to complete the other side.”
Matthew sat as if frozen. His mind reeled with possibilities while his heart hammered and a painful knot twisted his insides. “Did she say why she chose to go there?”
“I believe she went in search of you.”
“Damn it, Albertson. Why didn’t you say so?”
“I did not think it my place, Your Grace. Now please hold still so I do not nick you.”
“Fine. Just make it quick, will you. I’ve got to get going and–” He glanced at the window. Rain pelted down outside, more heavily than before, instilling in him a sense of dread so fierce it almost left him immobile. “This is not good weather for travel.”
Propelled by the same sort of uneasy feeling he’d had when he’d watched his parents and siblings ride off, Matthew stood, pushed Albertson aside, and snatched up his jacket. He’d been a child back then. No one had listened to his words of warning about the weather. They’d had a schedule to keep.
Well, he was an adult now and he would be damned if any harm came to his wife because he’d been too selfish and foolish not to stay by her side.
“Your Grace. I’m not finished,” Albertson said in a rush while following Matthew to the door. “I still have to–”
“Never mind any of that,” Matthew said. He flung open the door and stormed into the hallway not caring if he looked unkempt or deranged. “The only thing that matters right now is getting my wife home. Everything else will have to wait.”
He raced down the stairs, bounding over several steps at once until he finally reached the foyer. He didn’t care that he’d forgotten his hat and his gloves. The only thing that signified was acquiring a horse as fast as possible so he could go after Sarah.
Ignoring the whispers and stares from the people he passed, he made for the front door and pulled it open so fast he collided with a man who was trying to enter.
“Brunswick?”
Matthew gave the man a closer inspection and instinctively cursed before clearing his throat. Damn his rotten luck for bumping into Sarah’s eldest brother of all people. “Mr. Townsbridge.”
