Agnes rose to her feet and, although it must have been his eyes playing tricks on him, appeared to back up and stomp directly onto Humphrey’s instep. “She’s gone, Your Grace.”
“Gone?” he repeated, confused. “Gone where? Humphrey, what’s wrong with your face? It’s turning purple.”
Another stomp, this one harder than the last.
What thedevilwas going on?
“If someone doesn’t tell me where Mara is this instant—”
“London,” Humphrey blurted. “She’s in London.”
London.
There was only one reason Mara would be in London. One reason she would leave Southwick Castle. One reason she would abandon him... as he had abandoned her.
One reason.
And it was all his bloody fault.
“I have to fix this,” he rasped, an undercurrent of pain cutting through his voice as he ripped off the blanket, gave his bandaged leg a cursory glance, and then ignored it in favor of searching for clothes to wear. “I have to get to her. I have to tell her before it’s too late.”
“Tell her what, Your Grace?” Agnes asked softly.
“That I love her.” He yanked a shirt over his head, then a waistcoat. “I have to tell her that I love her.”
*
The meeting withDr. Chadwick had not gone... well.
After waiting—and wasting—an entiredayfor the doctor to complete her rounds in London’s nefarious East End, Mara had finally been permitted an audience at half past ten the following morning. It was clear that the woman was brilliant, but it was equally obvious that she was more than a tad eccentric. For the duration of their meeting she had tapped, fidgeted, and paced around the primary room of her flat: a parlor filled top to bottom with glass jars, various instruments of measurement, dried herbs, and a rather alarming number of cats.
“Sorry,” she’d said finally, after Mara had run out of ways to ask the doctor to travel back with her to Derbyshire. “I cannot help you. I don’t leave London, you see.”
“But you have to make an exception,” Mara had pleaded. “Ambrose isdying.”
Here, Dr. Chadwick had paused and blinked, her green eyes owlishly large behind a pair of gold spectacles. “Is he dead?”
“No. That is, I don’t think so. But—”
“Then he’s not dying. Take this”—she’d thrust a glass jar at Mara half filled with a white, powdery substance—“and sprinkle it over the wound three times a day. Three times, do you understand? No more, no less.”
“What is it?” Mara had asked, unscrewing the lid and taking a tentative sniff.
Dr. Chadwick had pursed her lips. “I don’t know. I haven’t given it a name yet.”
“You don’tknow?But then how—”
“Good day, your duchess. Lady Duchess. Your lady. Your Grace? I can never remember how you British prefer to be addressed. Bunch of nonsense, if you ask me. But then, nobody does. You have to go now. I have to feed my cats.” And then, as if Mara were a large cat herself, Dr. Chadwick had picked up a broom and shooed her out the door. “Good luck!” she’d called cheerfully. “Remember, three times a day. Don’t forget.”
Mara had considered refusing to leave the doorstep until the doctor reconsidered her position on travel, but she’d already been in London for more than a day and she needed to get back to Southwick Castle. She needed to get back to Ambrose. But no sooner had she entered the foyer and started to remove her gloves than she discoveredAmbrosehad already come toher.
“Mara. Mara.Mara.” He limped as he ran to her, and her immediate concern was his leg.
“Ambrose! What... what are you doing here?” she cried when he wrapped his arms around her and simply closed her into his chest, drawing her against him like a child drawing the blankets up and over their head. “You should be in bed, resting! How did yougethere?”
“A carriage. I had to see you. I had to stop you.” He took a step back and placed his hands on her shoulders. There were blackish circles under his eyes and his skin was pale, but his blue eyes were fierce. “Don’t leave me, Mara. Don’t choose another man. Not when I’m standing right in front of you. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry it took me this long. I’m sorry that I was so bloody late. But I’m here, Mara. I’m here. I’mhere.”
“Ambrose,” she said, shocked to her very core. “Ambrose, you’re... crying?”
