‘What do you mean, she’s already gone?’
Lance felt as though Ianthe Felstone had just punched him hard in the stomach. Not that he would have been entirely surprised if she had. She looked very much as if she wanted to. She’d looked as if she hadn’t wanted to admit him to her house either, only Robert had intervened, letting him in when he’d turned up unannounced, hungover and distinctly the worse for wear on their doorstep. After Mrs Gargrave had fainted, he’d pulled on the first clothes he could find and charged straight out of the house, riding full tilt to Whitby without even waiting for Martin.
‘I mean that she’s already gone.’ Ianthe jutted her chin out angrily. ‘She left an hour ago.’
‘Where did she go?’
‘What does it matter if you want a divorce?’
‘I want to talk to her.’
‘Well, she doesn’t want to talk to you, not any more. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near you.’
‘Mrs Felstone.’ Lance ran a hand through his hair, wishing he’d made slightly more effort to look respectable. ‘It was a mistake to mention a divorce. In my defence, I was in shock at my brother’s return, but I was still a fool and I know it. I also know that I’m one of the most worthless rogues Whitby’s ever produced, but I love Violet. I don’t want a divorce. If you tell me where she is, I promise I’ll never hurt her again.’
‘Ianthe.’ Robert put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and her expression wavered.
‘All right, but this is your absolute last chance. If you do anything to upset her again—’
‘Then you can push me off Whitby pier yourself. I’ll even jump if you tell me to. Now, please, tell me where she is.’
‘She’s gone to York.’
‘York? On her own?’
‘Yes, Mr Rowlinson found out where her aunt lives and, no, my Aunt Sophoria went with her.’
‘Do you have the address?’
Ianthe sighed and walked across to a bureau, coming back with a slip of paper. ‘Here.’
‘What train did she catch?’
‘The ten o’clock.’ Robert spoke this time. ‘There’s another soon if you hurry.’
‘I’ll run if I have to.’ He was already limping towards the door. ‘Thank you.’
* * *
The journey inland felt interminable and not just because every burst of the whistle made his head feel as though there were a swarm of bees living inside it. Lance stared out of the window, willing the miles away as the train steamed through the moors, stopping at what seemed to be every station in existence, before entering the flatter expanse of the Vale of York and finally rolling into the city itself. He jumped down from the carriage before the locomotive had even come to a halt, earning himself a remonstrative whistle from the guard, as well as a warning twinge in his leg. He ignored both. All he wanted was to find Violet and make things right again.
If he could make things right again. His stomach clenched at the if. He didn’t want to think about that.
‘Captain Amberton?’
A small figure blocked his way as he reached the end of the platform, bringing him to a surprised halt as he looked down into the bright, sparkling eyes of a white-haired woman swathed almost entirely in pink lace, wearing what appeared to be an Elizabethan-style ruff around her neck.
‘Ma’am?’ He tipped his hat enquiringly.
‘Oh, it is you.’ The vision in pink beamed. ‘I only saw you once before in person, but some faces are memorable. I’m Sophoria Gibbs.’
‘Ianthe’s aunt?’ He lifted an eyebrow dubiously. It was hard to imagine a greater contrast to the niece.
‘The very same and delighted to meet you, although I suppose you’re far more interested in seeing your wife. Come along, then.’
She didn’t wait for him to offer his arm, tucking her hand into his elbow and leading him determinedly towards the station exit.
‘I don’t understand.’ Lance peered down at her. ‘Were you waiting for me?’
‘Oh, yes, dear. I found out when the next train was due and came back to find you. I told Violet I was going to the tearoom, but it was only a tiny white lie since I did have a cup of tea while I waited. Of course, she has no idea that you’re coming, but then, she thinks you don’t want her.’ She reached over and patted his arm as if they were old friends. ‘But I knew otherwise.’
‘You did?’
‘Of course!’ The old woman nodded vigorously. ‘I’m starting to think I’m far more romantic than any of you young people.’
‘But where is she?’
‘Up there.’ She stopped just outside the station, gesturing up at the tall, grey line of the city walls. ‘She didn’t feel quite ready to visit her aunt yet so we had some lunch, or at least I did, and then took a walk. I think she’s feeling a little lost, dear. Why don’t you go up there and find her?’
‘Thank you.’ He scooped her hand up and kissed the back of it. ‘Sophoria. That’s a beautiful name. May I call you it?’
‘I absolutely insist upon it, dear.’
‘Then if I can persuade my wife to come back with me, I promise to name our first daughter after you.’
‘Well, in that case you must succeed. Now, there’s a staircase over there. Do you think you can manage it?’
‘Nothing’s going to stop me.’
‘That’s the spirit, dear.’ The small face nodded approvingly. ‘I should think so, too.’
* * *
Violet leaned against one of the stone embrasures of the medieval town wall, looking out over the slated rooftops of the city to the horizon beyond. It was all so horribly ironic. She’d wanted to visit York for almost as long as she could remember, ever since she’d flicked through the pages of her mother’s old picture book, and yet now she was here, all she could do was look back the way that she’d come, towards the moors, towards Amberton Castle and Lance.
She had her aunt’s address in her bag, but she seemed unable to advance another step in the direction of her house, as if doing so would be a final admission that her marriage was over and she was moving on. Would Lance know that she’d left by now? Would he be relieved or would he only care about the money? Either way, it didn’t matter. She’d made the decision to leave and she wouldn’t go back, not to a husband who didn’t love her.
‘Violet?’
She tensed at the sound of his voice, though she didn’t turn around. For a moment she thought she was imagining things, yet deep down she knew that she wasn’t. She could sense him behind her, could tell by the way that her heart leapt first and then started to thud erratically against her ribcage. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, at least enough to hear herself think over the sound of her body’s increasingly frantic reaction. He’d come after her! And yet she already knew that he wasn’t there for her. Just like the first time she’d run away, he’d only come after her for the money. He’d made his feelings about that perfectly clear that morning. He was probably only there to persuade her to come back and marry his brother—to tell her that it was for the best.
She ran her hands over the wall, smoothing her fingers over the cold, hard stone. The city walls had stood for over seven hundred years and the Roman walls beneath were even older. For a fleeting moment, she wished she could turn to stone herself. A statue couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel, couldn’t be hurt. She kept her face fixed straight ahead. Statues couldn’t see either, and if she turned to look at him, she was afraid she might be hurt even more.
‘How did you find me?’ She was surprised at how expressionless her voice sounded.
‘Your friend Ianthe decided to give me a last chance and her aunt claims to have been expecting me. She was in the station, waiting.’
‘She’s a romantic. What are you really doing here, Lance?’
‘I was worried about you.’
She gave a cynical half-smile. ‘My father always said he was worried about me. That’s why he kept me shut up from the world. Maybe he was right about me getting hurt, but I still wanted my freedom. I wanted it from him and now I want it from you, too. If you’ve only come because you’re worried, then you can turn around and leave. I can take care of myself.’
‘I know.’ His shadow fell over hers. ‘I also know that you’re perfectly capable of standing on your own two feet, of doing everything your father never let you, but the problem is, I’m not. I’m not capable of standing on my own any more. I’m a mess on my own. I was a mess before I married you, and I’m a mess again now. I can’t be without you, Violet.’
‘You said you wanted a divorce.’
‘I say a lot of stupid things. When I saw Arthur, I panicked. I was so happy to see him again, but when I thought about what it might mean for us...’
‘For my inheritance?’
‘Hang your inheritance! I don’t give a damn about the money! I’ve been a fool. I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go, but I’ve never been good at doing the right thing and I can’t start now, not if it means losing you. But you were right last night, I’m not the man I was. You’ve changed me. You’ve made me a better man and I’ll spend the rest of my life being good and honourable and everything else I ought to be, if you’ll only forgive me. I didn’t mean what I said, Violet.’
Her heart lifted. He hadn’t meant it, he didn’t want a divorce, yet the memory of the words still hurt. She braced a hand against the wall, holding herself steady.
‘You know, when my father died, I felt like I’d finally been let out of prison. I didn’t want any man to control me ever again. I wanted to find out who I was instead. I married you because you offered me the freedom to find out, but somehow I gave you control anyway. I gave you the power to hurt me because I was happy with you. I didn’t want to go travelling again because I started to feel like I had a home, a real home of my own at last. I didn’t feel small and powerless and trapped any more. Even though our marriage was all based on the money, it felt like it was becoming more than that. Last night felt like more than that.’
‘It was more than that. Yes, I married you for the money, but it was the best mistake I ever made, the right decision for all the wrong reasons. And if we lose it all now, I don’t care. The estate won’t collapse, nor will the mine. It’ll take us longer to make a profit, but we’ll succeed eventually. As for the house, it’s supposed to look like a castle. A few more crumbling walls won’t hurt.’ He rested his hand on the stone next to hers. ‘I know you like them this way.’
She moved her fingers slightly towards his. ‘You remember that?’
‘You were coming here the first time you ran away from me—how could I forget that? You said your mother had a picture book of York.’
‘Now I know why. She was born here.’
‘Ianthe said you were coming to find your aunt.’
‘Yes.’ She reached her little finger out and brushed it gently against his hand. ‘I was planning to go straight to her house, but...I can’t seem to move.’
‘Why?’ His voice sounded faintly husky.
‘Because I feel trapped again. When you said we should get a divorce it made everything I’d felt seem like a lie, as if the person I’d become was a lie, too.’ She turned around at last, pressing her back against the wall to look at him. ‘I don’t want it all to have been a lie.’
‘None of it was a lie, Violet, I swear it. You’re not a lie. You’re the woman I love.’
‘You love me?’ She felt breathless suddenly.
‘Yes. I should have told you last night. I love you so much that I’ll walk the whole length of these walls on my bad leg if it’ll prove it to you.’
‘It’s two miles.’
‘Then it might take me a day or two.’ He took a step closer towards her. ‘I don’t expect you to say you love me back. Just come home with me, Violet. Please.’
‘No.’ She shook her head and his face fell. ‘I need to find my aunt, to find out why she kept away all these years.’
‘If that’s what you want.’ His voice sounded strained. ‘I want you to be happy, Violet.’
‘Thank you.’ She hesitated for another moment and then reached out, clasping his hands in the way he’d held hers on the promenade just before their wedding. ‘But after that, I’d like you to take me home.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ Her heart clenched at the hopeful look on his face. ‘On condition that you never try to do the right thing ever again, not without checking with me first. You’re not very good at it.’
‘I know.’ Amber eyes lit up with laughter.
‘As for my inheritance...’
His expression turned fierce again. ‘I told you, I don’t care about the blasted money! Your father’s cousin’s neighbour’s cat is welcome to it, for all I care!’
‘No, they’re not. The other claimant rejected the will. The money’s already mine—ours. If we were to get a divorce, it would probably be all yours.’
‘I would never...’
‘Then you’re stuck with me.’ She smiled, releasing his hands to fling her arms around him. ‘Or you’ll have to think of a good reason to divorce me because I won’t do it. I love you, too, Captain Lancelot Amberton, and I don’t want a divorce, not ever!’