Page 99 of From Duke Till Dawn
The driver looked confused. “Pardon, Your Grace?”
“Miss Blake,” he explained impatiently. “I made sure the carriage was at her disposal when she left this morning.”
“Oh, aye,” the servant recalled. “She wanted us to drive her to the docks. To an inn. I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I can’t recall the name of the place.”
Alex climbed into the carriage. “Take me where you took her. And be fast about it.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
In an instant, they were heading southeast, to the docks. To ships that would take Cassandra far away—if she wasn’t gone already. As the carriage rocked with speed, Alex prayed he wasn’t too late. He vowed that he’d find her. No matter what happened, even if she had set sail, he’d pursue her across the globe to distant shores. He would do anything to pledge himself to her, from now until the end of time.
Chapter 22
Cassandra sat at a tiny desk in her cabin aboard theElizabeth.Her quill paused above the sheet of paper in front of her, then she continued to painfully write, making sure her handwriting was at its most legible.
You will find Mrs. Cassandra Blythe to be an excellent companion, well versed in ladies’ accomplishments, as well as amenable to any task asked of her. While she was in my employ, I could not have asked for a more agreeable companion. Indeed, I consider it a tremendous blow that Mrs. Blythe has decided to leave England and seek employment in Buenos Aires...
She set her quill down and shook out her hand, which was cramping from the effort of making her penmanship resemble something akin to a fine lady’s elegant script. It would have to do.
This will be my last falsehood, she vowed. It was a small one, and would see her set up for a new life in a new place.
The prospect didn’t excite her. At best, she could only summon a dull kind of nervousness. But it didn’t matter what happened to her on the voyage or once she landed. Nothing really mattered anymore, now that she had left Alex. Going to Argentina ensured that she would never see him again, and hopefully never hear of him or his existence without her. Eventually, she might receive some gossip about his wedding, or the birth of his heir. With any luck, she would be deadened to any feelings that might stir up.
But now, the thought was a sharp, barbed pain, digging deep and holding fast. She’d been given what she wanted—someone to care about her—but she’d turned away because in the cold light of day she knew it wouldn’t be enough.
She’d done right by refusing to become his mistress. Hadn’t she? Or was it better to take what she could, content herself with crumbs when she wanted a feast.
Cassandra covered her face with her hands, suppressing the tears that had been threatening all day. If she gave in to the need to weep, she might never stop. And she owed it to herself to survive. She deserved that much.
But it would be hard without him. Hopelessly difficult. She would endure, but it would be a shadow existence, free of joy. Of pleasure. Of love.
It will be better once we’ve set sail. Wouldn’t it? The last tie severed. Her final connection to Alex. But not entirely. His comb snuggled in the pocket of her pelisse. She shouldn’t have taken it, yet it had been impossible to leave without grabbing something, some small item for herself.
The ship’s midnight departure was only an hour away. TheElizabethwould sail off, and that would be that. The end of happiness.
A firm knock sounded at the door. Was it a steward, checking up on her?
“Come in,” she called.
The door opened and she rose slowly to her feet, unable to believe what she saw before her.
“Alex.” He was here. Aboard the ship. Wearing his elegant dark evening clothes, looking stern and magnificent.
He stepped in, closing the door behind him, then strode to her and stopped just short of their bodies touching. His breath came fast and hard, as though he’d been running.
“How did you find me?” she asked softly.
“Searched every dockside inn within five miles,” he panted. “A porter at one of them told me he’d taken you to this ship.”
There had to be dozens of inns in the area, and he’d gone to all of them. In pursuit of her.
“What... what are you doing here?” she managed. Understanding struck her like a leaden weight. “You said you didn’t want the money back. Or... is it about the comb?”
“This isn’t about money,” he said lowly, “or a damn comb.” His dark, possessive eyes never left her face. He drew a slow breath. Finally, he straightened to his full, imposing height. “I love you.”
Her heart jumped and her nerves came alive. She struggled to make sense of what he said. “You can’t,” she said, stumbling over her words.
“Of course I can,” he said imperiously. “I love you, Cassandra. Without you, my life is a husk.”
