Forever My Love(145)
"I'll be lenient," Alec assured him curtly, "after I wring her little neck."
"You told me that she's run many times before. Old habits are hard to break, and she just needs—"
"This one is going to be broken," Alec said darkly. "Soon."
"I think I should go with you.""I think you'd better stay here and read that note."
"Why?" Carr looked down at the letter he held.
"Call it my gift to you. Guillaume will be waiting to meet with Mira at the edge of the garden tomorrow morning. Since my errant wife won't be here to welcome him, I'm certain you'll want to take her place."
"I'll be damned!" Carr exclaimed, his concern for Mira temporarily forgotten as he gazed down at the note, his expression vibrant with a blaze of fierce satisfaction.
"Enjoy yourself," Alec said softly, closing the door behind him.
Mira drew close to the fire, shivering as thunder roared outside the inn and rain poured down in a ferocious torrent. It was black and cold outside; the night was wind-whipped and rough, and she was lucky to have found refuge a few hours before the storm had worsened to this degree. Her room was small and comfortable, complete with a tiny bed and clean sheets, a fireplace, a table, a chair, and a washstand. For the most part, however, the comforts of her surroundings were lost on her. She stared blindly into the fire, hugging her knees, thinking of all that had happened that day, running over it repeatedly… seeing Guil-laume's face… wondering what Alec was doing at this moment. Only a shred of doubt remained about whether or not she had done what was right. She knew that Alec would not want her after he read her letter… still, she knew that she should have told him everything in person. She had owed that to him. She had run without facing him—but facing him and witnessing his contempt, his anger, his rejection, would have been more than she could have withstood. She knew her limits—she knew what she could survive and what would be too much to bear—and the sight of Alec's hatred would have been worse than a bullet through the heart.Her tortured thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Thinking that it was the chambermaid, Mira rose to her feet and went to the door, her fingers poised above the bolt. "Yes? What is it?" she asked, and was startled by the sound of a man's voice, muffled by the door. "Open it, Mira."
Alec's voice. She was astounded that he had found her so quickly, so easily, and she stared at the door, unable to move. Suddenly it burst open with the sound of a tremendous blow, the flimsy bolt popping off and bouncing on the floor. She fled to the other side of the room with the swiftness of a startled rabbit, her pupils dilated until the bittersweet brown was swallowed up by black. Alec stood in the doorway, his raven hair plastered to his forehead, his clothes dripping water in a myriad of puddles. His pale gray eyes were red-rimmed, glimmering oddly in his dark face, a face so harshly set that she barely recognized it as her husband's. He had never seemed-so large or frightening; suddenly she was afraid of him. No trace of the man she had known and loved could be found in this apparition. He was a stranger who stared at her and spoke so coldly that she flinched as if he had struck her.
"You gave your maid's name to the innkeeper," he said. "I would have expected something more original from you." His gaze was icy as he looked at her, noting the way the firelight shone through her white nightgown and illuminated the slender shadow of her body. Then he looked around the room. "Tea and a feather bed… a fire… a newspaper. Very cozy, especially on a stormy night."
"Your clothes…" she said, her voice faltering. "You're so wet, you'll catch—"
"Spare me the wifely concern."
There was a wall between them that had never been there before, and it seemed so impenetrable, so unyielding that Mira took a few steps back, shaking herhead helplessly. Her movement spurred Alec into action. He strode over to the chair, picked it up, and wedged it underneath the doorknob, sealing them inside the firelit room. Standing several feet away from him, Mira bent her head.
"How did you find me?"
"It wasn't difficult to figure out that you walked to the village and found transportation there. I knew you couldn't have gotten very far. This is only the second inn I've checked. The innkeeper was very helpful, telling me about a small dark-haired woman named Mary Cobbett who had—"
"I paid him not to talk to anyone!"
"If a man can be bought once, he can be bought twice. I paid him more than you did."
She nodded, staring at the floor. "Did you read the letter?" she asked huskily.