less remorseful for having broken her heart. And in breaking, lost it.
The pain bloomed.
Bloody hell, it hurt. Just as it had when he’d lost his parents and cousin. Just as it had when his aunt had turned her back on him. And just as it had when Lizzy had walked away.
Just as it had every other time he’d lost someone he loved.
He squeezed his eyes shut on a groan. “Oh, bugger it.”
He loved her. Despite swearing he never would, despite taking every precaution known to man to ensure he never would, he’d fallen deeply, hopelessly, and irrevocably in love.
And now he was paying for it, just as he had in the past.
No, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all. It wasn’t anything like what had happened before. Kate wasn’t dead, for pity’s sake. She’d not walked away to a place or a life unknown. She’d not left, abandoned, or forgotten him. She wouldn’t. It wasn’t in her nature. Isn’t that part of what had drawn him to her in the first place—her absolute loyalty to those she loved?
She’d just…very understandably backed away, a little. And very courageously invited him to follow, he realized, remembering her invitation to risk a visit to Haldon.
This time, it had not been he who’d been willing to beg. It had been he who had turned away.
And this time, he thought with a growing sense of hope and urgency, he wasn’t a powerless little boy who didn’t know how to make things right again.
“Beggin’ your pardon again, sir, but—”
“No.” Without turning his head, he jabbed a finger in the direction of Anne’s voice. “There will be no more begging.”
“Er…Yes, sir. It’s only that you’ve been standing there—”
“Never mind that. I need my coat and gloves. Where…?” He looked around him, uncaring that the grin growing on his face likely made him look a veritable loon. “How the devil do you find anything in this monstrosity?” He turned and jabbed his finger at Anne again. “We’re getting a smaller house.”
“I…Yes, sir.” She backed away slowly. “Very good, sir. I’ll just fetch your things, then, shall I?”
“My things, yes,” he said distractedly and then called after her as she turned and fled. “And have someone ready my horse!”
He was going to make things right.
Twenty-six
The symphony was done.
Kate sat back in her chair and stared at the piles of paper littering her writing desk.
She’d finally completed it, finally discovered why she’d not been able to complete it before. Anger, grief, and heartache, that’s what the missing piece of her symphony had needed. She hadn’t been able to hear them before, because she hadn’t been able to feel them. Well, not feeling them had ceased to be an impediment. She’d felt all of them and more during the return trip from Pallton House. She’d felt as if she would drown in them.
Desperate to do something, anything really, with those feelings besides drown in them, she’d gone to her room the moment she’d arrived at Haldon, pulled out her supplies, and begun to compose. She’d worked until her eyes burned and her fingers cramped, until the red light of dawn filtered through her window and grew until the gold light of early day. And then she’d eaten, slept for a few hours, and begun composing once again.
What was it now, she wondered blearily, seven o’clock in the evening the day after she’d left Pallton House? It seemed odd that she had only been awake for a few hours.
“Have you a moment, Lady Kate?”
Kate glanced up to see Lizzy standing in the open door between their rooms. She looked anxious, Kate realized. She was biting her lip, and there were circles under her eyes. Worry and guilt were added to the heartache. Had something happened while she’d secluded herself away to lick her wounds?
“What’s the matter, Lizzy? What’s happened?”
“Nothing’s happened. Nothing’s the matter, not really. I don’t wish to interrupt.” Lizzy hesitated, then walked in and eyed the papers strewn across the desk. “Your symphony, isn’t it?”
“You’re not interrupting,” Kate assured her. “It’s done.”
“Is it?” Lizzy’s face brightened. “Is it really? You’ve finished the whole of it?”
“I have.”
“That’s wonderful,” Lizzy breathed. “An entire symphony. I can’t imagine. It’s…well, it’s wonderful, isn’t it? You must be very excited.”
Kate nodded, and wished she could, in fact, feel some level of excitement. In truth, she’d rather the symphony have gone unfinished than experience the pain that had inspired its completion. “I’m glad it’s finished,” she said evasively. “What is it you wished to speak