Page 26 of An Alliance with the Earl (Marrying for Love #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

T he wind howled through the masts of the docked ships, carrying the scent of brine and damp wood as Edward dismounted with urgency. His boots struck the weathered planks with purpose, the rough grain of the wood unyielding beneath his step. Every heartbeat thundered in his chest, matching the crashing waves beyond the harbor.

He scanned the bustling port, searching for any sign of her. A familiar bonnet. The soft blue of her traveling cloak. Anything.

He needed to find her.

Edward strode toward the nearest dockworker, a burly man with sun-darkened skin and hands as weathered as the ship’s rigging. “Where is the ship bound for France?” His voice was sharp, edged with desperation.

The dockworker wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve and gestured toward the sea with an indifferent nod. “Left before dawn, my lord. Caught the morning tide.”

Edward’s breath hitched.

A slow, creeping chill settled in his bones.

Gone.

He turned his gaze to the vast horizon, his eyes searching, as though by sheer force of will, he could call her back. But the sea stretched endless before him, swallowing any hope he had clung to during his frantic ride to the port. The realization struck with a brutal finality.

He had been too late.

A wave crashed against the dock, spraying the hem of his greatcoat, but he barely registered the dampness. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his gloves creaking against the pressure.

This was foolish. He had allowed himself to believe he still had time.

That he would see her again.

That he could fix this.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor, and now he was left standing here, staring out at the cold expanse of water, feeling utterly powerless.

The clerk at the dock office glanced up from his ledger, eyeing Edward with vague curiosity. “Something I can help you with, my lord?”

Edward’s throat tightened. He gave a curt shake of his head, turning away from the sight of the endless sea. “No. There’s nothing to be done.”

The words tasted bitter.

The journey back to Alexander’s estate felt like an eternity.

At first, he pushed his horse hard, as though outrunning his own thoughts. The morning mist gave way to golden afternoon light, but he barely noticed the shifting sky.

Hour after hour, his mind tormented him with what-ifs.

If he had left earlier.

If he had written her a letter instead of relying on that notebook.

If he had stayed in the village and waited for her.

By the time he reached Alexander’s estate, his body ached from the ride, but his heart bore the greater wound.

He dismounted slowly, his limbs stiff, his movements deliberate. A stable hand took his horse without question, and Edward barely acknowledged him as he climbed the steps toward the entrance.

The familiar halls of the manor were quiet, save for the faint murmur of voices from the study. Edward moved in that direction, his boots heavy against the polished floor.

Alexander’s study door was ajar, the scent of aged parchment greeting him as he entered.

Alexander sat at his desk, flipping absently through a volume of Herodotus, his brows drawing together when he noticed Edward’s presence. He closed the book, leaning back with a measured gaze.

“You look positively wretched,” he said plainly.

From the corner of the room, Lizzie let out a light laugh as she stood from her seat near the window. “Truly, you do,” she agreed, in the forthright way only a sister could manage.

Edward exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “Excellent. Just what I was hoping to hear.”

Lizzie’s eyes were sympathetic. “Heartache is not a becoming look on you, dear brother.”

Edward gave her a flat look. “And yet, here I am, positively horrid.”

“It may take time, but you will get through this, Edward.” She patted his arm and breezed past him toward the door. “I’ll leave the two of you. I’ll see a tea tray is sent.”

Edward huffed out a humorless laugh as Lizzie disappeared out of the room.

Alexander, however, did not speak right away. He studied Edward with quiet understanding, his keen eyes assessing far more than Edward cared for.

“You did not find her.” It was not a question.

Edward let out a slow, measured breath. “No.”

Alexander nodded, a look of sympathy flashing across his face. “And you do not wish to talk about it.”

“I don’t even know what to say about it,” Edward admitted. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, shaking his head. “She’s gone. I was too late.”

Alexander stood, crossing the room with a steady step. “And so what now?”

Edward exhaled sharply. “I need a week here to recover.” His voice was quieter now, weighted with something heavier than mere disappointment. “Just a week. Then I’ll leave.”

Alexander studied him for a long moment before nodding. “You know that you are always welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Silence settled between them, the kind that only existed between friends who understood loss.

After a moment, Alexander placed a firm hand on Edward’s shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I know what it is to endure excruciating heartbreak.” His voice was softer now, touched with something personal, something Edward knew came from experience.

Edward swallowed hard. “And how does one survive it in the middle of it?”

Alexander’s gaze was knowing, almost haunted. “One breath at a time.”

Edward gave a weak nod, exhaling slowly.

“When Lady Olivia returns,” Alexander continued, his voice steady, “there could still be hope. I’ll write to Lady Lansdowne personally to know of her whereabouts when she arrives back in England.”

Edward let out a humorless chuckle. “It hardly matters now, does it?”

Alexander’s expression hardened. “It matters if you still want it to.”

Edward stared at him, searching for an answer in himself.

Did he?

Could he?

The ache in his chest told him yes, even as his mind screamed fool.

“Thank you,” Edward murmured.

Alexander’s mouth quirked into a slight, knowing smirk. “You need rest. Tonight, do not think about what has passed or what is to come. Allow yourself this moment to be still.”

Edward nodded. “Perhaps a ride in the morning will clear my head.”

Alexander’s smirk deepened. “I was beginning to worry you had forgotten how to take a proper gallop across the countryside.”

Edward shook his head, exhaustion pressing down on him like a weight. He didn’t want to talk anymore. Didn’t want to think.

He just wanted the ache in his chest to fade.