Page 56 of Her Rogue of a Duke
A part of me wishes I could tell you this in person, but perhaps this is better. It will be easier this way, for both of us. I am writing to let you know that I am leaving. I had hoped to wait until morning, but I am afraid I simply cannot bear to wait any longer. By the time you read this, I will be gone. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your hospitality. I would never have been able to make it through these last few weeks without your support. I can never express to you just howappreciative I am to you. I wish things between us could have ended differently. I wish for many things, but I suppose that is to be expected. Nothing that has happened between us has been easy, has it?
I hope that we will be able to see each other again someday, under better circumstances, though I recognize we may likely never cross paths again. Still, until then, I pray that all is well for you and that you find happiness.
Yours Sincerely,
Francesca
Joshua stared down at her words, a sense of loss and regret consuming him as he realized the gravity of his mistake. He had waited too long to go to her. He had let his pride and ego get in the way of his feelings for Francesca. Now, she had departed, and he was left clueless about her destination, uncertain of how he might ever find her again.
Feeling both physically and emotionally shattered, Joshua handed the reins back to Benedict.
“Go on without me,” he muttered. “I will walk the rest of the way, I think.”
He also thought he deserved the discomfort of making it the rest of the way home on foot. A small penance for his foolishness and shortsightedness.
Benedict, with visible reluctance, accepted the reins and regarded Joshua through furrowed brows. “Are you certain?” he asked. “You are hardly in any shape to make the rest of the walk on your own…”
Joshua gave a firm nod. “Quite certain. I will be all right. Thank you for finding me, but for now… I just need some time to myself.”
Benedict looked as though he wanted to argue the point further, yet he merely pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded stiffly. “Suit yourself, old boy, but I will be waiting for you at Elmcroft,” he insisted. “If you do not return in a reasonable amount of time, I will come back to rescue you again. Andproperlythis time.”
Joshua gave him a small, humorless grin. “I've no doubt of that. But rest assured, I will be quite all right on my own.”
“If you insist,” Benedict sighed, shaking his head. He mounted the horse and gave Joshua a hesitant look. “I will be expecting you shortly, then.”
Joshua’s gaze lingered on Benedict as he steered the horse and trotted back down the road. Once he had disappeared over the knoll, taking the light of his lantern with him, Joshua was cast into darkness once more. Releasing a deep, soul-shattering breath, he continued on his way, feeling despondent and heartsick.
Where could Francesca have gone? Her letter had given no clue, and he doubted very much that she had simply returned home.He got the feeling that she was going to someplace where she could not easily be found. Somewhere far from prying eyes. She wanted to disappear.
Was this because of the troubles surrounding her father? Or because of Joshua himself?
Perhaps it was a bit of both.
It was sometime later that he finally began to approach his home. To reach it though, he would have to pass by Oakvale Manor, Francesca’s ancestral home. A pang of sorrow struck him as he drew closer, yet he found himself irresistibly drawn to the remnants of the fence surrounding her driveway. From there, he knew he could catch one last glimpse of the quaint manor house, a sight that now stirred a deep ache in his heart.
Upon noticing a carriage stationed outside the manor, Joshua halted abruptly. It seemed strangely familiar, but he could not quite place where he had seen it before. Could it be Francesca? It seemed plausible she might stop by her home before disappearing for who knew how long.
A glimmer of hope sparked within him once more. Perhaps it was not too late. He could see her one last time and tell her how sorry he was for all the trouble he had caused her. He needed to catch her before she took off again.
Hastening over the fence and down the drive, he moved at a quickened pace, the ache in his heart driving him forward,yearning for one last chance to make amends… hoping against hope that he hadn't lost her forever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
1 Hour Earlier
Francesca bustled around her family’s manor, gathering anything and everything she might need during her time away and stashing away the trinkets she could not feasibly bring with her. The last thing she needed was any unwelcome intrusions or lootings in her absence. Gathering her mother’s jewelry, she stowed it beneath a loose floorboard in her mother’s old bedchamber and then hid her father’s pocket watches and cufflinks in a similar vein.
Her focus on packing served as a distraction from thoughts of Joshua and the heartache of departing without a farewell. Perhaps it was better this way, though. A clean, uncomplicated break. It was simpler. Upon arriving back at Elmcroft Manor, the notion of confronting Joshua again had seemed unbearably nauseating—she was not sure she would even have the courage to walk away had she waited any longer. In that regard, a swift departure felt more merciful for both.
Francesca had sent a note to Mr. Campbell, requesting he send her a carriage immediately so she could make it to his country home by morning. A messenger had arrived within the hour, as it seemed her father’s solicitor had already made most of the necessary arrangements. By her calculations, his carriage should be arriving to pick her up in the next thirty minutes.
As she made a final pass through her rooms, making sure nothing essential had been forgotten, she heard what sounded like a carriage rolling down the driveway of her manor. Mr. Campbell’s driver was a little earlier than Francesca had anticipated, but she gathered up the bags she had packed and hurried down the stairs to meet him nevertheless.
Just as she reached the landing of the staircase, however, the front door swung open, and it was neither Mr. Campbell nor his coachman, arriving to pick her up and whisk her away to the country.
It was a far more daunting presence.
Gerard.