Unraveled (Turner #3)(77)

Dimly, he was aware that the headboard of the bed thumped into the wall, that the boards beneath them squeaked in time to his thrusts. He didn’t care; didn’t care about anything but Miranda beneath him, Miranda’s hands on him. For now, for these last few hours, Miranda was still his. She was hot, and a tight, sharp pleasure gathered in his groin. Her breath stuttered against his cheek. She made a strangled sound, and her hips rose to his. He could feel her pulsing about him. Waves of heat surrounded him, and he drove into her hard, until his own desire overtook him.

He came inside her, hard and savage and satisfying.

When they’d both caught their breaths, she met his eyes. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. He could see the satisfied set of her lips.

See? You can’t survive without me.

“You’re perfectly right,” he said, in answer to the sentiment she hadn’t voiced. “There’s no two ways about it. When you leave, it will slay me.”

IN THE END, SMITE slept without dreams, and the remainder of the journey back to Bristol passed unremarkably. They arrived at Miranda’s house shortly before noon. When Smite pulled the team up, he could tell immediately that the instructions he had left behind had been followed. They were met there by a groom and a cart containing three trunks and a bandbox.

Smite jumped down from the phaeton and spoke with the man in a low voice. He almost wished that something had gone awry, anything to turn him away from the awful inevitability of this moment. But the man handed him an envelope and then went to the seat of the cart.

Smite turned to Miranda. She had followed him; her face seemed utterly blank. Perhaps she could sense his unease.

This was never going to get any easier. He strode forward and handed her the envelope. He couldn’t let her see any doubt, not now. Not after last night.

“You’ll be going with Dryfuss here,” he said.

“Dryfuss? Who is Dryfuss?”

“The cart driver.”

She stared at the envelope in her hands.

He continued on. “Your railway ticket is in there. You’re headed to London. You’ll be met at the station.”

“London? But why am I going to London?”

“Because that is where I have another house. I promised you a house for a month, and I do keep my promises.”

She let out a gasp and tried to shove the ticket back in his hands. “You’re sending me away now? I had thought—but there’s at least two weeks left.”

“I haven’t time to argue. I’ve an appointment to see my brother at noon, and you’ve a train to catch at two this afternoon. Think on it: if it’s not safe for Robbie to stay in Bristol, how could it be safe for you? You’re at even greater risk.”

She looked at him. Her eyes grew wide, and her fingers clenched around the envelope. “But it will be safe for me to return, some day.” She gulped; she must have seen his expression grow darker. “Perhaps in a month. You’ll send for me then.”

He met her eyes and did not flinch. “No, Miranda,” he said softly.

“Because I’ll come back.” Her voice withered away in the starkness of the look he gave her. “Or you’ll come visit.”

“No,” he repeated. “It’s best that we don’t.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “This was going to end, in any event.”

She shook her head.

“One day, you were going to realize precisely what you’d saddled yourself with. You don’t need me.” He gave her a little smile. “You can do a great deal better than an obstinate—”

“You’re going to tell me what I want?”

“I’m not trying to put words in your mouth,” Smite tried again. “But I do think, that given some time—”

“Time? You think time will change what I want? Maybe,” she said, “I want a man who takes what should be an unbearable weakness and forges it into strength. Maybe I want a man who will be loyal to me with his dying breath.”

“And maybe, when you’ve had a little time to think it through, you’ll want a man who can sleep through the nights, and who doesn’t flinch at the thought of hiring servants. Maybe you’ll want a man who can stand to have his face touched in affection. Someone who can make you a part of his life instead of shunting you off to one side. What you feel now…it’ll fade, Miranda, and when it does, you’ll not want to be stuck with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I love you.”

“I know.” He turned away so she wouldn’t see his face. “I know. But—I have always been wedded to Lady Justice. And if you think that I will be loyal to you above the demands of my work, you are mistaken.” His own voice was breaking. He took a deep breath. “With me, you would always be second. You deserve to be first with whomever you find.” Smite hated him already. “I will never come to get you. I will not be waiting for your return. If you come back to me, I will turn from you. This is over.”

“So I was right,” she said. “You were rationing me. Allowing yourself only a small space of time with me, before returning to your solitary existence.”

He gave a nod. “Precisely.”

“In a few years, will you forget me altogether, or will you take out the memory of me on occasion, for your few minutes of sentimentality?” There was a hint of belligerence in her tone; she looked up at him with one eyebrow raised.