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“Your Grace…” Miss Barrow’s voice drifted idly from across the room.

“Hhmm?” Henry looked up, only just now realizing that he was, in fact, standing in Charlotte’s old bedroom. He hadn’t even realized that he was there, such was how addled his mind had become.

“I thought you would like to know, Her Grace sent word just now.”

Henry’s chest tightened. “She did?”

“Yes, Your Grace. She will be arriving here shortly to collect her things.”

His chest tightened further, and he nearly reached out to steady himself against the wall. “Her things? She’s collecting her things?”

“That was what the messenger said, Your Grace.”

“A-all right, thank you, Miss Barrow…” Henry waved her away as he turned back to look around her old room. She had spent the last few weeks sleeping with him, but most of her things were still in the same room that he had put her in when she’d first arrived.

That felt like that an age ago now. The foolish notion he’d had originally, that this would be a white marriage. He almost laughed to think of how idealistic he had been, that he could be married to a woman like that and not want her. But it was more than want. It was more than carnal desire. Yes, that was how it had started, but that wasn’t how it ended.

And now she was coming back to collect her things? It was like a dagger to Henry’s heart. A sign that whatever they had was truly over.

He felt hot and flustered, the room around him spun, so he stumbled out of it as if to escape its clutches.

The next thirty minutes felt like hours. Henry paced the castle as he considered what to do. The stubborn side of him thought to hide and ignore her. She wanted to leave him? Fine. Let her leave. Collect her things and go! Clearly, that was what she wanted. But the other side of him, the lonely side, the side that woke up each day thinking about her, pining after her, wishing he could go back in time and change things, that side fought against his stubborn nature and begged him to do what he knew he must do.

Only, what must he do? Somehow, he felt that an apology wasn’t going to be enough. Somehow, he felt that she wanted more than that. These last few weeks together, she had been hinting that she was falling in love with him. He could see it in the way she looked at him whenever they spoke. But did he love her? Were his feelings for her such that he was willing to fall to his knees and say the words out loud?

Honestly, he wasn’t sure that he could.

She arrived by carriage an hour after Miss Barrow’s warning. Henry spotted the carriage from the window on the second level, watching as it slowly made its way down the drive. He felt himself grow nervous as she approached, and a small part of him hoped that she had come with her family, just so the two wouldn’t be alone together, so he wouldn’t be forced to come to a decision on what to do.

But she was alone, save for a few servants whom she brought to help her with her luggage. She climbed out of the carriage, and Henry’s heart stopped at the sight of her—if he had thought his week spent in the north had made him forget how beautiful she was, that was nothing. The sun shone softly on her face, and the light dress she wore hung loosely on her curvaceous frame. The low neckline reminded him of her taste and how he used to love burying his head in her chest. And those lips… she did not smile when she looked upon the castle, but he imagined that she was.

He stayed by that window as she entered the castle. And he stayed longer as he listened to her walk toward her quarters and begin to instruct her servants to pack her things.

It would be so easy to let her go. All he would need to do was stay put and let her finish. It would be done then. This marriage, one he’d never wanted in the first place, would finally be over. And sure, he might be sad for a while, but he’d move on as he always did. Henry the womanizer. Henry the rake. Henry, better off alone…

“Did you see Her Grace?” Miss Barrow spoke from the door suddenly.

“Hhmm?” Henry looked up.

“You saw that she has arrived?”

“Oh, yes,” Henry said. “Do me a favor, don’t tell her I am here. If she asks, that is. I’m out. With friends.” A nod. “Yes—but only if she asks.”

“I thought you might want to wish her luck,” Miss Barrow said.

Henry frowned. “Luck? Why on earth would I want to do that?”

“Because she is leaving, Your Grace. Did she not tell you? She and her sister are traveling to Spain and then through Europe.”

“W-what?” Henry balked, mouth hanging open from shock as his stomach dropped out from under him. “She told you this?”

“She did, Your Grace. Gone for at least two years, she seems to think.” Miss Barrow sighed wistfully. “I’ll miss her, truth be told. It was nice to have a lady in the house.”

“She’s going…” Henry said, more to himself than to Miss Barrow. “She’s really going…”

It was a glass-shattering moment. Charlotte was really leaving him for good. No second chances. No possibility of redemption. No world where she came back to him and he welcomed her gracefully. This was it. It was done. And this past week… it would be his life forever more.

Henry didn’t even realize he left the room until he was walking down the hall. And it wasn’t until he was stepping into Charlotte’s old room that he understood what he was doing. She stood with her back to him, looking about the now empty room as if taking it in for the last time.