She had hoped to reach the village by noon but it was nearing dusk when she rode into town.
She’d have to stay the night. She had a small purse she hoped to make stretch until she reached London and found work. If she had to, she’d stop at a town along the way and work to build up some funds. If necessary she could sell the mule in Glasgow and take the train south. That seemed the wisest course of action. But then she had to reach Glasgow first.
And sell her mule. The prospect produced a pang near her heart. Strange as it seemed, this mule was tangled up in Marcus. It was all she had of him. All she had left.
After stabling her mule, she entered the inn from the night before. The innkeeper recognized her and rounded at the counter with a warm greeting. “Welcome! Welcome! I didn’t expect tae see ye two back so soon.” He looked beyond her shoulder as though expecting Marcus to appear. He probably assumed he was outside yet handling their horses.
She smiled wanly. “Thank you,” she murmured. “It is only I tonight seeking accommodations.”
“Ah.” He frowned as though understanding, but it was clear he did not. Doubtlessly the questions whirled around his mind. Ever the proper businessman, he pasted a smile back on his face and gestured her toward the taproom. “Would you like to warm yourself by the fire with some tea while we ready your room?”
She blew out a breath and rubbed her gloved hands together. “That would be lovely. I confess I am quite chilled.”
He waved her ahead to the room she had briefly occupied the night before. She entered the room and walked a straight line toward the fire, not noticing until she arrived at its crackling warmth that another person already sat in a chair before it.
“Oh. Good evening,” she greeted the other patron distractedly, shooting him a quick glance—and then yelped. She slapped her hand over her mouth in shock and jumped back a small step. “What are you doing here?”
The man in the chair rose to his feet. “Alyse . . . I’ve come for ye.” He brushed his hands over his trousers as though shaking loose crumbs. She glanced at the table to indeed find a plate of food there. She’d caught him in the midst of a meal.
She looked around the room in bewilderment. “You came for me here? At the inn?”
“Well, I stopped ’ere tae change clothes and freshen up. I didn’t want tae look a complete waster when I came tae ye. I’ve come tae apologize. Tae make everything right. Tae make good on my vow tae ye.” His thin chest puffed up. “Tae do what I should have done the first time.”
She shook her suddenly spinning head. “How did you even find me? How did you know—”
“Nellie told me.”
Of course Nellie would have told him. She would have been worried about Alyse. She would have thought that Yardley was her only salvation and she was doing Alyse a favor telling him of her whereabouts.
Emotion thickened her throat. “You abandoned me, Yardley. You were my friend. You promised . . .” Too choked up, her voice faded. And yet even as she said the words she was heartily glad. Relieved. For if he hadn’t she would never have met Marcus. She would have never known what it was like to love him.
She pulled back with a startling hiss. She loved him. She did. And yet she was leaving him. Sudden doubts assailed her. Should she not stay? Stay and fight for him? Win his love?
Yardley reached for her and she sidestepped him. He looked crestfallen as he dropped his hand back to his side. “I ken. I made a mistake . . . a colossal mistake. I was foolish. I panicked at the notion of marriage.” He nodded somberly, both his eyes as wide as the moon. “I mean it is verra permanent. It’s forever.”
She nodded back, wondering if he had always been this dim. Or had she been the dim one, seeing so much more in him than there really was? “Yes. I’m aware.”
“Please say ye will forgive me. Please say ye will come wi’ me. We can go tae London. We can go anywhere. We can have that life we wanted together. The one we talked about.”
He was saying all the right things. She should be happy. She should leap on what he was offering her and yet his words felt hollow. There was no temptation in them.
Suddenly another voice spoke. A deep familiar voice. “You should go.”
She spun around, her heart hammering like a wild drum in her chest. “Marcus?” Marcus stood there, tall and beautiful, snow dusting his great shoulders.
He was here. He had come after her.
He had come after her and found her like this. With Yardley. He had heard Yardley’s declaration and he was letting her go. He was giving his blessing to this. And why wouldn’t he? It was giving him a way out. An escape from her. It was freeing him of his responsibility to her at last.
She nodded, fighting back tears. “Of course. Yes. I will.”
His expression was stony as he stared at her. He didn’t even spare a glance for Yardley. He held her gaze as he reached inside his vest pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. She frowned for a moment, not comprehending . . .
Until she did.
Understanding dawned on her.
He held the parchment up in the air before her and tore it asunder. “You are free. Free to go. Free to be with whoever you want to be with.” The scraps of parchment fluttered between them, the bill of sale for her landing with a whisper on the taproom floor.
That was it then. All it took. He was freeing her to do as she wished. To go with Yardley. To live out that dream of a life with this boy that she had spent so many years fostering. She could do what she had set out to do from the very start.
So why did she hurt so much?
“Only there is one other thing I must do before I let you both go,” Marcus added.
“Oh?” She watched him, baffled at what he could possibly have left to do after that very dramatic destruction of her bill of sale.
“Yes.” He turned to face Yardley and with no worry, punched him squarely in the face.
Her childhood friend went down hard. His hand immediately covered his spurting nose. Blood seeped out between his fingers. “Wot was that fer?” his nasally voice cried out.
Alyse gawked.
Marcus stabbed a finger in her direction. “For abandoning her. Do you know what could have happened to her had I not been there? The abuse and misery . . .” Marcus’s face twisted with rage. “You’re lucky I don’t haul you outside and give you the true thrashing you deserve. If you ever hurt or disappoint her again, I’ll come for you. And the next time, there will only be pieces of you left. Understand me, lad? Make her happy or I will end you.”
Her stomach fluttered with a thousand butterflies at his words.
Marcus turned back to face her. “If you ever need . . .” His voice faded as his eyes bored into her.
She nodded, a hot lump forming in her throat that made speech impossible. She understood what he was saying—and what he was leaving unsaid.
He was there for her. He would always be there for her. He was the person she could trust even though he had claimed she should trust no one.
With one curt final nod, he turned and left her standing in the taproom beside Yardley.
And she was free. Free at last.
Marcus charged a hard line through the taproom refusing to look back.
He couldn’t look at her again. He couldn’t see that scene. He couldn’t see her with him—that bastard who had abandoned her and thought he could now return and everything would be fine. No, Marcus couldn’t look, knowing he had lost her. She was gone from him forever. And yes, that hurt more than he could ever have imagined.
He was almost free of the taproom. But on the threshold the innkeeper watched him with wide and blinking eyes, clearly aware that something out of the ordinary was afoot.
“Ye really are one verra stupid bastard.”