Page 153 of The Lord Meets His Lady
“Adam, get a bowl of broth and some bread for Lord Bowles and see if we have any cider.”
Samuel lit the sconces, brightening the hall. “Care to explain what happened?”
“Genevieve—”
“Is safe. Now tell me. The Prussian.”
“I met Avo Thade at the Red Swan yesterday. I gleaned from conversations with Genevieve and Barnard that the man viewed Genevieve as a distraction from their cause.” Marcus scrubbed his face and accepted the cool cider Adam offered. “I gambled on him not wanting her in tow. I was right.”
He emptied the mug, his throat parched. But this was no siren call for whiskey. His body thirsted to be quenched, as did his heart.
He set the mug on the seat beside him. “Thade said he’d bind Wolf in the carriage and keep him that way until their ship set sail.”
“What was that bit with the papers? Why risk the Prussian’s ire if you knew Thade agreed to work in concert with you?”
“I had to get the indenture. For Genevieve.” He rubbed his breastbone, a twinge sharpening there. Genevieve had left. Why? He’d never told her he loved her. He’d meant to. As soon as he returned triumphant with her indenture papers.
What happened when a good man made heroic choices and still lost?
“Why did she leave me?” He stood, his legs a tad unsteady.
Posture military straight, Samuel’s arms folded across his chest. “What you did—selling Khan—affected us both. It was a good thing, heroic. To her it was devastating. She blames herself, said you were cornered into making the sacrifice because of her.”
“It’s no reason for her to leave. I have to find her.” He reached for his redingote. “I did it because I love her.”
“She was quite firm in believing you’d be better off without her.” Samuel paused. “She saw the letter about Miss Rutherford.”
Marcus swore under his breath.
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell her you loved her.” Samuel handed Marcus his hat.
“My gravest sin.” He took the hat and set it carefully on his bandaged head. “I’ve never told a woman I love her.”
“I’d say you’re about to.”
He opened the front door, an eye to the barn. “I need to go after her. May I use one of your horses?”
Samuel followed him with papers in hand, swinging on his frock coat. “You know you’re in no condition to ride.”
Marcus ignored that. “I assume she took one of the stagecoaches. Are you going to tell me which one?”
“The twilight coach to London.”
He frowned. “Alexander’s errand to the village? You should’ve told me right away.”
“Chivalry first, my friend.”
“I have a good idea where to catch the coach.” Marcus grinned, inklings of his old self returning. “Convincing her to stay is my bigger concern.”
“Then give her this. Might help.” Samuel handed over a yellowed, thrice-folded foolscap. The Prussian’s indenture contract. Folded beneath it was their marriage license. “One of Atal’s footmen delivered it right after she left.”
“Thank you,” Marcus said, tucking the papers inside his redingote. He slid them into the pocket over his heart.
“No, thank you, my friend.” Samuel’s smile slashed a bold white line.
Wordless understanding passed between them. What had been done today was done in the name of friendship and love. Marcus wasn’t going to fight what he wanted anymore. Sacrifice in the name of friendship and love had shown him the need to seek his own path. He’d been fighting what he wanted and who he was for too long. A simpler path with horses and a plain cottage and a woman who gave him unconditional acceptance.
He loved Genevieve, and he’d shout to the world she was his wife…if she’d have him.
But he knew what she needed first. It comforted him to be the one to give it to her.
Marcus nodded at Samuel. “I’m off to ask my wife to marry me again.”
Samuel opened the barn door for him. “Take my gelding. And don’t break your neck.”
