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“Your Grace,” Hunters called out to him, widening his strides to walk alongside him. “Can I ask what the meaning behind this abrupt exit is?”

“You may,” Michael replied, “But that does not mean I’d answer.”

In the back of his mind, Michael could only see Cordelia’s stricken face from the dining room. Each time he blinked, his eyes shuttering close for a second, her soft features warped with concern and anger flashed across his vision. It was as if she haunted him, making sure that he would never forget the pain he insisted on inflicting her with.

Perhaps he never should have returned in the first place. If he remained far away from Solshire, the rumors would have still lingered over her head, but his business could have continued. There would have been a hurdle to leap over every now and then, but at least he would not have been plagued in the way he was now. Cordelia sunk into his skin like a disease, grabbing a hold of his heart and refusing to let go. No matter what medicine he ingested, she remained within him like a lingering cough.

The wordcowardhung over him. Her sharp voice, tainted with brimming tears and frustration, echoed through his ears. He did not need much convincing to know she was entirely right. Michael was a coward, and had been one all his life. Events from his past shaped him into a reclusive creature, one who feared the light Cordelia threatened to bring into his life. No matter how much he wished to turn around and seek her out once more, to hold her within his arms and say the things she wanted him to say, Michael remained head strong, his heart hardened towards everything he wanted to have.

Because, in the end, the love Cordelia sought, the life she believed he could give her, was out of his hands. He had been rendered incapable of such a thing a long time ago, and there was barely any chance of getting it back. Either way, he had already made up his mind, and ordered the arrangements to be made. His things would be returned to his townhouse within the city. He planned on continuing his business for the rest of the Season. Earn as much profit for Cordelia to be as comfortable as she wished.

Perhaps he might order her an influx of canvases, enough to last her a lifetime. The idea of no longer seeing her artwork stunted him for a moment, but he pushed past it.

Once at his bedroom, Hunters whipped around to stand in front of him. “As your Butler,” Hunters snapped, practically out of breath, “And as your friend, I wish to implore you on making a different decision, your Grace.”

“Friend?”

Hunters winced. “Have I not been there for you all these years, your Grace? Have I not seen you grow, seen you fall? Does that give my word any sort of weight in your mind?”

“Perhaps,” Michael murmured, “But it will do you no good today. The arrangements have been made.”

Hunters’ shoulders sagged as Michael passed by him, retrieving his case. He watched as Michael gathered a few of his important papers and work things, remaining silent until the clasp snapped through the air, the bag shut.

“Your Grace,” Hunters began again, “I fear you might regret your actions in the future.”

“My future is beyond your worries.”

And then, the unthinkable happened.

Hunters shot forward, his arms finding their way around Michael’s body, bringing him into a tight embrace. Michael felt himself stiffen as the butler grabbed a hold of him, his arms snapping around him in a hug. He could hardly pull himself away, and barely found the will to force himself out of it. The embrace jerked him back in time, to when he was nothing more than a clueless child.

“Your future,” Hunters said, “Has been at the forefront of my worries for years, your Grace. For much longer than you might imagine.”

“Hunters -”

“You cannot see the good that has been brought to Solshire because you are so quick to leave it. Perhaps you believe you are undeserving of it, or that a life alongside a gentle and kind-hearted woman is out of your reach.” Hunters pulled away, bowing his head down. “I only wish you could hold yourself in the same regard as I do, your Grace, and realize that a settled life is very capable to be had in your future.”

Michael remained as still as a statue for a moment. He could only watch the butler, and see how much he believed the words he spoke. But Michael already has his mind made. Everything had been made the moment he realized how bound to Cordelia he felt. The jealousy of her speaking so publicly with Colin, how her hand felt within his own, how her smile and laugh riled him in a way he still could not understand. All of it led to one thing, and it was the single thing Michael refused to hand over.

“Hunters,” Michael finally said, barely recognizing his own voice, “I expect you to take care of Solshire while I am gone.”

The butler’s eyes narrowed. “Do you mean the estate, or the wife you leave behind?”

“Take it as you must.”

Turning away, Michael finished collecting his last few things, desperate to put space between him and Cordelia. Much to his surprise, Hunters stepped forward silently, beginning to help him get a hold of his things. Hunters grabbed a hold of his case and another bag of luggage, slipping out of the om without sparing another word.

Michael followed close behind him. They made their way to the foyer in no time, the rest of Michael’s things already being stored within the back of a carriage in front of the estate’s steps. Hunters went with the rest of the staff to place the rest of his bags with the others. Michael breathed in deeply as he began to walk towards the front doors.

“Your Grace!”

Pausing at the threshold, Michael glanced over his shoulder. Mrs. Bellflower hurriedly scurried towards him, something squared and rather large in her hands. A cloth covered whatever it was she held, wrapped neatly and tightly. She panted breathlessly when she came up to him, holding the package forward.

“What is this?” he asked.

Mrs. Bellflower merely extended it closer to him. “Something I believe you are meant to have, your Grace.”

He raised a brow. “I am going to need more information than that, Mrs. Bellflower.”