Chapter 24 #3
“Her Grace packed a trunk and departed some time ago. Miss Whitfield discovered this in her chamber after she had left.”
Mr. Thornton reached into his coat and withdrew a folded letter.
“She instructed that it was to be placed into your hands and no one else’s. I was tempted to read it, but I wanted to respect her wishes.”
Alexander accepted it slowly. The handwriting on the front was unmistakably Eleanor’s. His fingers tightened around the paper before he forced himself to break the seal.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Thornton said quietly, “there is something I believe you need to hear before you read that letter.”
Alexander looked up. The butler’s expression was solemn.
“You have spent many years carrying out the wishes of a man who is no longer here. You have fulfilled every obligation placed upon you, but perhaps you have forgotten that your own wishes matter as well.”
Alexander looked back at the letter.
“I thought I was doing what was best for her.”
Mr. Thornton’s gaze softened.
“I believe you did.”
The words were gentle, but they did not offer comfort.
He unfolded the letter.
Alexander,
I do not know whether you will understand why I have done this, but I cannot remain silent any longer. I have spent too long waiting for the courage to speak, and I fear that if I stay, I will lose whatever remains of myself.
The truth is, I am lonely here. I have been since the beginning, and I thought for a while that you might have noticed that and wanted to change things, but I see now that that will never happen.
You and I lived our own lives before, and I was foolish to think that things would change, especially in the way that I wanted.
The rain continued falling around him, but Alexander barely felt it.
I have so much love for the estate. I hope that is evident in the gardens.
I truly did try, Alexander. I wanted to care for Ashbourne, and the people there, but it has become impossible.
I did not plan for anything more than my duties, but then I saw a different side of you, the side you keep hidden from the world.
Somehow duty became affection, and that affection in turn became something far more frightening, something I did not know how to confess.
Alexander stopped reading for a moment. His breathing had become uneven, and he dreaded to think that she had felt the same all along.
I owe you the truth about Julian. Yes, we have a history. I thought, years ago, that I would one day be his wife. So many promises were made, and I thought I truly was in love, but then he disappeared.
There was a part of me that felt disloyal to both of you, and I thought that I loved you both in equal measure, but I soon realized that the reason I struggled was that I had not understood how quickly my heart had changed.
The person I had once imagined a future with had become a reminder of the past and nothing more, and the person I had never expected to love had become the man I could not stop thinking about.
I loved you, Alexander. Not out of obligation, nor because of your title or because I needed protection. I loved you even though you never loved me at all, and I cannot let that continue. You deserve to live the life that we agreed upon without feeling a sense of duty to me.
And so, I will do the sensible thing and leave.
Alexander struggled to remain upright. He had been wrong. Eleanor had not wanted distance from him. She had not been unhappy because she had to live with him. He read the letter again, then once more, and each time, the same truth became clearer.
She had been unhappy because she had never known whether she truly had a place in his heart. Mr. Thornton watched silently as Alexander folded the letter.
“I do not believe she thought you cruel, Your Grace.”
“Then what did she think?”
“That you would never choose her.”
The answer left him unable to respond, because that was the truth he had avoided. He had spent his life believing he was protecting himself from loss, but all he had done was keep himself from accepting something precious when it was placed before him.
Eleanor had never been his prisoner. He had been the one locked away behind his own walls.
“I need a fresh horse.”
Mr. Thornton did not argue, perhaps because he had been waiting for this moment.
“Your coat, Your Grace. That one is wet through. You need another.”
But Alexander was already moving.
“I do not have time.”
“The storm—”
“I know.”
He did not slow. The stable doors opened as he entered, and the horses shifted nervously at the sound of thunder overhead. Orion reacted the moment Alexander approached, stamping against the floor and tossing his head as if sensing the urgency of his master.
“Your Grace,” a stable hand said, “the roads will be dangerous.”
Alexander mounted without looking back.
“Losing her would be as well.”
The words were quiet, but they carried enough weight that the groom stepped away. Within moments, Alexander was riding through the gates. Rain struck his face, soaked through his clothes, and blurred the road ahead, but none of it mattered.
He had spent too long standing still, waiting for certainty before allowing himself to act, and now every moment he lost was another moment Eleanor believed she was leaving behind a husband who did not want her.
He urged Orion faster. The horse thundered along the road toward the village, the storm raging around them as Alexander followed the only thought that mattered.
He had to find her.
As they approached the bend near the old stone wall, Orion slipped on the rain-slick ground. Alexander pulled sharply on the reins, barely managing to guide the horse away from the stones before they collided.
His heart raced, but he did not stop. The village was ahead, and somewhere beyond it was Eleanor, carrying the belief that she had been forgotten.
Alexander pressed forward through the storm, the letter secured against his chest, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself to admit the truth he had spent so long avoiding.
He could survive losing almost anything, but he could not survive losing Eleanor.