Page 102 of In Need of a Duke
He had been teasing, but now as the panic gripped his chest, he struggled to speak, sitting on his arse as she pulled away and jumped to her feet.
“Tell me. And so help you, Ian, be honest.”
“What do you want me to say? What have I said wrong? I love you, Charlotte.”
She scoffed, her tendrils of honey hair escaping her plait.
“I have told you the truth, and for a time, I tricked myself into believing I wasn’t worthy of your love. I waited, heartbroken. But heartbreak grew to hatred. And then you returned and demanded to be a part of my life as if you wished for me to be your wife. Yes, I am your wife in title, but I refuse to give you my heart if you cannot love me for me and not believe the truth. It’s not enough for me. You cannot love me in pieces.”
“Charlotte, please, you don’t need to run off…”
She spun around and glared at him, holding up her finger at him. “Oh no, I am not running off. I am leaving. Leaving you and Stonehurst, leaving because I have given you my heart again, and all you’ve shown me is that you’re capable of breaking it. You have shown me that I deserve more, and I won’t stay quiet again.” She mounted her horse, throwing off his touch. “Don’t touch me.”
“Lottie!” he yelled after her.
But she raced off across the park, leaving him alone.
CHAPTER 30
Ian ran after her,but Charlotte sped out of sight on horseback. He had enjoyed the walk out to the wall at dawn by himself, but now, by the time he returned to Stonehurst on foot, she had packed and left.
He dropped his hands on his knees and bent over, struggling to catch his breath in the drive as the footman stood at the door and watched.
“When did she?” he struggled, panting. His heart raced in his chest, and a chill rose up from his toes before he turned and cast up his accounts by the stone light flanking the steps up to the home.
“Your Grace, the duchess left approximately thirty minutes ago.”
“Ready the carriage. No,” he quickly corrected, “my horse. That will be faster.”
“Your Grace? You haven’t anything.”
He spun quickly, biting back the panic that pummeled his chest. “My horse, now. Please.”
Before long, he mounted the horse and rode after her, searching the road and the shops of towns. Then checking the taverns and inns for several hours as he rode toward London.
He couldn’t lose her.
And yet, he couldn’t bear the thought of her running from him either as if he were a monster.
A few hours had passed, and still, Ian spurred his horse forward as the hot summer sun was quickly overtaken by a black, threatening sky. He once had prided himself on his control, and loving Charlotte had only taken that away, leaving him now with a racing pulse and even faster, anxious thoughts flooding his mind.
Without warning, there was a sickening crunch, and the animal faltered.
Christ.
He quickly dismounted, then inspected the damage. The horse had thrown a shoe. With a pat on the horse’s neck, he walked the animal to the nearest home, passing it off into their temporary care until he could return.
He would have to continue on foot, knowing full well how precious this delay would cost him.
Two hours later, deep into the afternoon, the first drops of rain began to fall. First, a mere shower before a deluge poured from the sky. He tipped his head down and pressed forward, his boots sinking into the soft earth with each step.
He crested a small hilltop, pausing beneath the cover of a large oak tree before he spotted an inn in the distance.
She had likely passed here already, or worse, as the ache throbbed in his chest, her carriage could have wrecked in the rain. He couldn’t stop his search.
Then as if through sheer will, the outline of a carriage emerged, pulled off to the side of the road not far from the inn ahead. Squinting through the rain, he could just make out the familiar crest emblazoned on the side.
Charlotte.
