His Temporary Duchess (Dukes Ever After #5)

Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

S ebastian woke painfully wet in a ditch. He sat up, his body aching and his mind clearer than it had been for years. The memories that had taken over so quickly when he fell now seemed far away.

The storm had passed. Sunlight bloomed across the ground.

All around him, London awoke. He climbed from the ditch, noting that Silver had gone. Yet where once he might have thought about how everyone had left him, he felt compassion for his frightened horse. If he were a horse, he probably would have fled in the storm, too. He just hoped that Silver had made his way back home without getting hurt.

Dizziness surged through him and he swayed on his feet, pressing a hand to the side of his head. Pain lanced from the contact, and his hair came away sticky with blood.

For a moment, thoughts escaped him. He stared at the bright red, his clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin, chilled to the bone. People passed by, oblivious to his state—or not caring enough to intervene.

But he couldn’t let this stop him. He had to find Eleanor.

His legs threatened to give way as he began on his path. The storm had washed the world clean, causing more damage than Sebastian could have accounted for. His feet splashed in puddles as he made his way along the track, tripping over cobblestones. The world twisted and blurred, and he dug his fingers into his palm to steady himself.

He would not give in until he found Eleanor and explained himself. She couldn’t leave him—not because he wished to limit her freedom, but because she did not have the truth. Once he told her, she would be able to make an informed decision.

And maybe—maybe even then she would choose to leave.

And if she did, that would be her choice—he would not stop her.

Minutes blurred, and it took him several tries to make the street where he knew Olivia and her family to live. With difficulty, he clambered up the stairs. His fingers were so cold they had turned numb, and even the warmth from the sun couldn’t banish his chill.

“Yes?” The butler who answered the door looked down his nose at Sebastian, no doubt not recognizing the Duke that lay under his muddied, rumpled clothes.

“I’m here to see El—the Duchess of Ravenscroft. I know she’s staying here.”

The butler’s nostrils flared, and Sebastian could almost lock onto the exact moment when the man finally realized who he was.

“I—Your Grace.”

“Please tell her I wish to see her.”

“I’m afraid she isn’t in the establishment.”

“Are you certain?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

“When did she leave? Where did she go?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Your Grace. She didn’t say where she intended to go. She left about half an hour ago.”

Half an hour in a carriage. Without a horse, he had no easy way to catch up to her, without so much as knowing where she might have gone—how could he find her?

He’d been too late. For all his attempts to fix things, he had failed. She had left anyway. He would never find her unless she wanted to be found.

Well, truthfully, if he wanted, he could perhaps go after her. Throw all his resources into locating her and bringing her back to his home, but in that case, did she want to be found? If he brought her back, would it be against her will?

He had promised himself that he would give her the liberty of choice. It seemed she had already chosen, and she must have been keen to leave him if she had left already. She had not waited to give him a chance to find her.

The only conclusion he could come to was that she didn’t want to see him.

“I see,” he murmured and turned away. If she was no longer here, he could see no reason to tarry. “Thank you.”

“Your Grace—if you would come inside and wait awhile—”

Sebastian kept walking. He had no desire to wait in the house she had vacated. What benefit could that bring? Yes, perhaps he was in no fit state to walk, but better this than sit and contemplate his failings.

He should not have pushed her away. The fault was with him alone—as it had been with so many things.

He walked with no real concept of where he was going. Perhaps back home. His legs felt as though they would collapse under him after every step, but he forced himself onward.

Onward.

Onward.

A horse’s clattering hoofbeats caught his attention, and he glanced up to see a carriage bearing down on him. The horse reared, feet kicking, and Sebastian swayed on his feet, stumbling to one side. A face gazed at him through the window of the carriage, her eyes wide and dark.

The world narrowed on the sight of her face. The chestnut hair around her temples, the rosy glow in her cheeks, the delicate point to her chin. He had memorized so many of these features, and for a long moment, he wasn’t sure whether to believe the evidence of his eyes.

Eleanor .

It couldn’t be. And yet the carriage came to a stop and the door opened, his wife spilling out without so much as waiting for the coachman to help her alight. Her boots splashed in the water of the road, and Sebastian fell to his knees against the cobblestones.

It was her. Defying all odds, he had found her.

“Eleanor,” he whispered.

“Sebastian!” Her hands came to cradle his face, soft and warm despite everything. “What happened to you?”

“I…” The world twisted dizzyingly.

“You’re hurt! Oh, my darling.” Tears streaked her face. “I knew something was wrong. I knew it.”

“ Shh .” Every word felt an effort. “It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right. Jordan, come and help!” She looked over her shoulder, no doubt looking for the coachman, but Sebastian couldn’t have her facing in any other direction. He reached for her face, skating his fingers along her jaw even as black ate at the corners of his vision.

“Eleanor,” he whispered. “I love you.”

He knew no more.