we’re going to do as though you hold authority over me.”
“Nora,” he began.
“I took you into my body. I did not give you leave to take over my life.”
He flinched and it was most satisfying. Wrong or right, it felt good to see him affected . . . maybe even hurt.
Because she was hurting. She was hurting so deeply.
“I’m sorry. I did not realize there was any other conclusion to be drawn after—”
“Get out,” she demanded, looking away from him, unable to look at his face, wondering at the pain sweeping through her.
She should not feel like this. Not at all.
“Nora, we have to talk about this and do the correct thing here. The responsible thing.”
There had been nothing correct or responsible about what just occurred in this bed. It had been desire. Lust. How could he not see that?
It had been emotion.
Rare emotion from him . . . and even from her.
It had been love. Apparently he did not realize that or feel the same way.
She loved him. Foolishly, she had fallen. Just as her sisters had. She was not immune, after all.
She forced her gaze back on his face, blinking back the burn of tears. “I’ll not suffer a third proposal from you. Go. Leave.” She uttered the word proposal as though it were the foulest of epithets.
He stared back at her and she knew he was contemplating his next move. She didn’t look away. She fixed her hard stare on him, letting him know she was serious.
He stood and donned his clothes. Dressed, his jacket in his hands, he faced her. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” Turning, he left her chamber.
They would not talk tomorrow.
Tomorrow she would be gone.
Chapter 27
It felt oddly familiar as Nora and Bea crept from the house before anyone was awake.
Bea had not liked being roused from bed so early. She had plenty of questions. None of which Nora answered. She certainly was not going to share her motivation for their sudden and surreptitious departure. It was her private business. Not Bea, not anyone, was entitled to know that she had surrendered her heart to a man who did not want it. Broken hearts were a secret matter.
Dawn was splitting the sky as they arrived at the station. A porter helped them with their luggage, carrying it inside the mostly empty building.
“It’s so early. There won’t be a train for hours,” Bea complained as they approached the ticket stand.
Nora ignored her and fished the money out of her reticule to pay their fare.
Bea continued, “Why did we have to arrive here so early? We could have enjoyed breakfast first.”
“Because I did not want to encounter anyone in the duke’s household.”
“Are we running away then?” Bea’s frown deepened. “What happened? What did you do?”
Nora shook her head swiftly, bristling at Bea’s very accurate assumption that something had transpired. “Nothing,” she lied. “I have done nothing.”
Except fall in love with a man who was all about duty. A man who was so far removed from her that marriage to her would be viewed as his greatest failure by his family and peers alike.
Tickets in hand, they found a bench to sit on and waited for the arrival of their train.
She was gone.
Nora was gone.
Constantine had scarcely slept a wink since last night, tossing and turning, and playing over how badly he had botched everything with Nora. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he find the right words with her?
He rose from bed this morning with the resolve to make everything right. To win her. He had to win her and it had nothing to do with duty. It had nothing to do with obligation or the fact that he had compromised her last night.
He wanted her. He wanted her for his wife. In the clear light of dawn, he recognized that. He may not deserve her, but he wanted her.
Dressed, he departed his chamber with eager steps.
He wanted her for her.
He would begin by telling her that. That was his plan. Except she was gone.
She and her maid and all of their belongings were gone.
She had to have left very early this morning as no servant had seen them depart. As far as he knew, she didn’t know anybody in Town.
She had to be leaving for home, returning to Brambledon.
That meant she had gone to the train station. Hopefully, she was still there, waiting on a train. If he hurried, he could stop her. He moved for the stairs at a run, skipping steps as he