“So would I. You are brave indeed.” He caressed David’s hair.
“If everything goes wrong, if we can’t leave, what are we going to do?” David twisted the handkerchief. Like Cora, he waspreparing himself for the worst possible situation. “I don’t want to return to Lord Roxbury’s house. I want to stay here with you.”
Heartbreaking. Now Ethan understood why Cora had told him not to make promises he couldn’t keep. If everything went wrong, he was ready to flee with Cora and David, which meant a life away from England. But he couldn’t promise David he would leave with them. Not yet. “We must fight for the annulment first. Then we’ll see.”
“I’ll fight back.” David clenched his fists. “If Lord Roxbury wants me back, I’ll fight him. Harry promised to help me. He knows many tricks to repel an opponent. He’ll teach me how to use a slingshot and fighting techniques from the far east in case Lord Roxbury wants to shoot me again. Harry couldn’t believe me when I told him Lord Roxbury had tried to shoot me. He said that nothing so exciting had ever happened to him.”
Oh, boy. “Let’s use Harry as the last resort, shall we?”
A corner of David’s mouth quirked up. “He showed me how to make firecrackers from pine cones and resin.”
“Lovely. Mrs. Parker must be beside herself with happiness.”
David chuckled.
“Take what Harry says and does with caution.”
David laughed. “He’s funny though, and he’s my friend. I don’t want to leave him too.”
As they hugged each other again, Ethan made a decision then and there. Yes, if Cora didn’t get an annulment, he would flee with her and David.
The tripback to London was a silent one. Cora wished time would speed so she’d learn what would happen to her. Ethan’s tense expression showed his concern. Even Harry sat in silence,staring at the view of green fields and hills, dozing off now and then. David slept with his head on her shoulder, gripping her hand with surprising strength. Mrs. Parker dozed off, her head hanging over her chest.
“I sent a wire to Finn yesterday,” Ethan said. “Hopefully, when we’re back, we should receive an answer about Mrs. Marshall.”
She wrung her hands, hoping that Mrs. Marshall wasn’t dead or refused to help her.
“Stop worrying,” Ethan whispered, seemingly reading her mind.
“How do you know what I was thinking?” She pouted.
“It was written all over your face. I’ve seen that dark expression on the faces of many soldiers before a battle. The truth is that we don’t know what will happen, thus despairing is pointless.”
“Thinking about the worst possible outcome prepares me for it.”
“No. It only poisons your mind with failure.” He kissed her knuckles. “You’ve been with Roxbury for too long, and now you find it hard to believe a better future is possible. Your first fight against him is to free yourself from the shackles of despair he restrained you with. Learn to hope. You’ll be surprised by how powerful hope is.”
It was a beautiful speech, but worry gripped her all the same. The option of leaving England had lost its appeal. Until a while ago, it’d been her dream. Now it was a nightmare because leaving Ethan would crush her. Because she wanted everything. She wanted to be rid of Jacob, to be free to love Ethan, and to live happily with her new family.
She focused on the beautiful image of herself, Ethan, and David swimming together and laughing. That was the future she wanted. That was the future she would fight for.
The boisterous voicescoming from downstairs in the inn didn’t let Cora sleep. Her shoulder was fine, but the trip still exhausted her. Hence their stop. Mrs. Parker, David, and Harry didn’t share her predicament since they’d fallen asleep the moment they’d touched their pillows.
Although it might be the worry more than the patrons’ voices to trouble her. She pushed the quilt aside and tiptoed out of the room. The smell of roasted chicken and ale wafted from the stairs at the bottom of the corridor. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and stared at the darkness through the window in the empty corridor. Good gracious. Not a street lamp lit the road. Only the moonlight glowed over the treetops. She had to decide if she preferred the darkness of the country or the constant light of London’s nights.
She felt Ethan’s presence before he spoke.
He stood behind her. “Are you unwell?”
Of course he’d ask that. She turned around and leant against him. “No. Only nervous.”
He hugged her, taking her weight. “You are barefoot.”
She wiggled her toes. “My feet are a bit cold.”
“I can’t allow that.” He lifted her by the waist and gathered her in his arms.
She didn’t protest, quite the opposite. His scent enveloped her when he carried her to his bedroom and laid her on his bed.
