Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(126)

She did not look up as he left. She was too weak, too defeated to move. Where, she wondered wretchedly, do you go when your life is over?

“Alec…” she whispered. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

It was the first time Mira had not met him at the door when he returned home. Alec scowled slightly, having become accustomed to his wife’s habit of coming down from the keep when he arrived and greeting him at the front entrance. Carr, who had abandoned London in favor of a few days’ rest at the castle, walked to the bottom of the stairs and lounged against the railing.

“Hello, Alec. I have some things to ask you—”

“Where’s Mira?” Alec asked shortly.

Carr shrugged carelessly. “Haven’t seen her all day. Not since this morning. She said something about a headache and that she was indisposed and didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Did she seem ill this morning? Was she in reasonably good spirits, or—?““I wouldn’t be too concerned. Most women are indisposed occasionally.”

“You haven’t seen her all day?”

“That’s right. Now, what I wanted to ask you—”

“In a few minutes,” Alex said absently, glancing up the stairs. “First I want to see my wife.” There was something wrong… the silence, her absence… it didn’t sit well with his intuition, it didn’t feel right. Resisting the urge to race up to their room, he walked up the steps, his scowl deepening as he reached the door of their bedroom. Turning the knob and going in, he cast a quick glance around the room, seeing nothing but empty shadows. “Mira?” he said aloud, though some part of his mind already sensed that it was useless. Slowly he walked to the dresser and picked up the scrap of paper folded in half, his hand trembling slightly as he saw his name written on it.

Alec,

If I stayed here any longer I would be lying to you every day, trying to hide things that should not be kept secret from you. You will agree that it is best for me to go. What I must tell you will cause your feelings for me to change, just as I told you they would…

There was more, but suddenly Alec’s eyes watered, and he could not read. The sound of his voice shot through the room like the crack of a rifle. “Mira!”

A few seconds later, Carr appeared at the doorway, his eyes wide with anxiety. “What? What happened? Is she… ?” Quickly he took in the sight of the empty room and the note in Alec’s hand. He met Alec’s gaze, which was such a glittery, pale shade of gray that he was chilled by it.

“She’s gone,” Alec said hoarsely. “I have to leave right away.”

“There’s still time to find her,” Carr replied rapidly, not bothering to waste time with unnecessary ques-tions. “She can’t have gotten far in a day… she didn’t take a carriage—I’ve been here all day.”

“I’ll take the carriage to the nearest posting house and hire a saddle horse there. You’re right, she can’t be far from here. By tonight she’ll have reached an inn somewhere.”

“I’ll go downstairs and see that everything’s made ready for you to leave.”

As Carr left, Alec lowered his gaze back to the note and read it in a daze. Regret, anguish, love, and fear threatened to overwhelm him, and then all of it was masked with a surge of anger that burned right to the surface. Did she have so little faith in him that she would turn and run once again? After all of the reassurances, the support, the declarations he had given to . her, she had reacted once more like a frightened child, and the helplessness he felt only added to his anger. Striding downstairs, he snatched up his coat and thrust the brief letter at Carr with a grimace. Carr took it automatically, his eyes on Alec’s grim face. “I’m going with you,” he said.

Alec shook his head. “I’ll do it alone.”

“It might take a day or two, but if you can find out where she’s headed—”

“It won’t take more than a few hours. I’m going to find her before tonight is over, if I have to tear the region apart.”

“Alec,” Carr said hesitantly, looking more than a little concerned, “I know you’re angry with her, but she’s obviously having a difficult time of it. Be lenient with her—”

“I’ll be lenient,” Alec assured him curtly, “after I wring her little neck.”

“You told me that she’s run many times before. Old habits are hard to break, and she just needs—”

“This one is going to be broken,” Alec said darkly. “Soon.”

“I think I should go with you.““I think you’d better stay here and read that note.”

“Why?” Carr looked down at the letter he held.

“Call it my gift to you. Guillaume will be waiting to meet with Mira at the edge of the garden tomorrow morning. Since my errant wife won’t be here to welcome him, I’m certain you’ll want to take her place.”

“I’ll be damned!” Carr exclaimed, his concern for Mira temporarily forgotten as he gazed down at the note, his expression vibrant with a blaze of fierce satisfaction.

“Enjoy yourself,” Alec said softly, closing the door behind him.

Mira drew close to the fire, shivering as thunder roared outside the inn and rain poured down in a ferocious torrent. It was black and cold outside; the night was wind-whipped and rough, and she was lucky to have found refuge a few hours before the storm had worsened to this degree. Her room was small and comfortable, complete with a tiny bed and clean sheets, a fireplace, a table, a chair, and a washstand. For the most part, however, the comforts of her surroundings were lost on her. She stared blindly into the fire, hugging her knees, thinking of all that had happened that day, running over it repeatedly… seeing Guil-laume’s face… wondering what Alec was doing at this moment. Only a shred of doubt remained about whether or not she had done what was right. She knew that Alec would not want her after he read her letter… still, she knew that she should have told him everything in person. She had owed that to him. She had run without facing him—but facing him and witnessing his contempt, his anger, his rejection, would have been more than she could have withstood. She knew her limits—she knew what she could survive and what would be too much to bear—and the sight of Alec’s hatred would have been worse than a bullet through the heart.Her tortured thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Thinking that it was the chambermaid, Mira rose to her feet and went to the door, her fingers poised above the bolt. “Yes? What is it?” she asked, and was startled by the sound of a man’s voice, muffled by the door. “Open it, Mira.”