Page 14 of The One With the Wayward Duke (The One With the Wanton Woman #5)

T HE COLD WOKE HIM up. It was late evening, though he wasn’t sure anymore what the time was exactly. He only knew that the side of the bed that had once been filled by a warm, lovable body was now void. His hand had been searching for her delectably graspable hip and came up empty.

Gradually he coaxed his eyes open to see what she might have gotten up to, but when he pushed himself to rest against the headboard, the room was as bare as his bottom currently was.

Damn. Had she gone downstairs again for something else without waking him?

The woman was headstrong, but knowing that brought a smile to his face.

He didn’t want to control her, contrary to what his actions might suggest. Truth be told, he simply wanted to have confidence in her, the kind he felt while they had made love to each other.

The kind which…unfortunately was feeling a bit hollow at the moment.

He pulled on his breeches, top layers, and then his boots.

Running his hands through his hair would have to suffice for now.

Knowing Freya, if she was alone for more than thirty seconds, there would be a new man on her arm.

No wonder women required chaperones wherever they went. Men were insufferable.

He chuckled. What would the odds have to be for her to run into another man?

Six in one day. That seemed a stretch of the imagination for anyone.

Considering the odds, he didn’t allow himself to be worked into a frenzy, instead, he enjoyed a more leisurely pace.

After what they had just done, surely she had just gone down to eat. Perhaps even ordered him a meal.

Tobias noticed the rain had finally stopped, though the roads looked quite muddy. Only the desperate traveler would be journeying down these roads for the next several hours, even until morning. That suited him just fine. It sounded divine to have a full night with Freya. Alone.

That gave them time to leave planning their future to the morning.

That felt good. Thinking of a future with Freya, despite her being a known risk to run, filled his heart. It was almost as if the chip on his shoulder had been smoothed out.

Tobias took the steps downstairs, scanning the evening crowd for his wife . No one would make a move on her after the harried shouting he had finished earlier.

As his eyes flitted across the room, a small tremor or panic started to crawl up his tailbone. Among all the faces, several of whom he recognized from earlier, Freya was not there. But…no…this couldn’t actually be happening.

She had to still be here. She wouldn’t have run. Not on him.

Then again, she had turned down everyone else, why did he think he was special?

By running off for even a chance with a prince, Delphine had shown him that he wasn’t worthy of love, or at least, commitment.

And so the walls had been constructed. He didn’t want to be a pawn of a manipulative woman ever again.

But then this damn day full of moments with Freya had slowly been lulling him into reassurance, like putting a baby to sleep. Had his discretion fallen asleep rather than his resentment?

It looked like he was just another pawn to Freya. But for what? No. He refused to believe it.

Walking over to the innkeeper, he asked, “Have you seen my wife?”

With vigor, the owner scrubbed the surface of the table in front of him, avoiding eye contact.

“I didn’t understand you. It sounded like a mumble. What did you say?” The only reason to mumble would be if the man was unsure of what he was saying or unsure of how the news would be received. Neither of which was Tobias’s preference, though he had a slight bias toward the former.

The innkeeper cleared his throat a couple of times before finding his voice. “I say, she’s gone outside.” That didn’t sound too terrible . “There’s a carriage out there.” Well, that was a bit more disturbing, but not entirely devastating. “With a man.” Uh.

That was the gut punch, the sucker punch, and the kick-a-man-while-he’s-down move that made Tobias choke on his saliva.

With a curt nod, he braced himself to venture outside.

It couldn’t be what it looked like. She wasn’t running from him.

Something else must be going on. She just couldn’t be running away from him like Delphine had just done.

He recalled all the defeat that had swept over him at hearing the news.

He had just stood there, absorbing it. Accepting it. That was that.

A few weeks later, he realized it was for the best since he had been in love with an illusion. But this, with Freya, it was different. He had seen her in good and bad, at her worst and and her best, and he loved her. He knew it in his heart.

Stomach tightening, head throbbing, Tobias rubbed his hands down his face.

This could quite possibly be his worst nightmare coming to life.

Offering himself—again—only to be found lacking.

After being jilted the first time, the burn had hurt.

It had left scars. And since then he had felt the relentless need to prove himself.

But to prove himself to who? No one truly cared.

So who was he trying to prove himself to?

Mostly himself. That was the crux of it.

And he knew, deep down he was worthy of love.

He also knew that he had a tremendous amount of love to give.

In one day, Freya had revealed that to him.

When he had first heard that she jilted her groom at the altar, it was everything within him not to just toss her in the carriage, slap the door shut, and send her home.

But he couldn’t sever the tie. Whatever had tethered him to her was too strong to slice off in one swift motion like that.

He had seen her kindness in the midst of her crisis, when she had offered that woman her shawl.

He had witnessed her vulnerability when she sought out a past suitor.

He had seen her weakness when she was being overpowered by the brute in the tavern.

And he had even seen her defiance. Yet all of it was her strength.

Her being herself. No airs. The way she followed her heart every time, hoping it brought her one step closer to love.

How could he take steps away from love when she was always taking steps toward it?

One could argue that she was running from him right now…

that wasn’t even an argument. That was likely stating the obvious.

But if he couldn’t see her through this, he didn’t deserve her.

If he couldn’t step up and be the man to bring her back to love, to show her real love, then she was better off with someone who could show it to her.

To hell with it. Even if she was running. This time he wouldn’t be left standing there. He was chasing after her.