Three Weddings and a Murder (Nottinghamshire #2)

It took only a few heartbeats for his cheeks to grow pale. Then she spoke. “You can’t tell me I don’t have a problem simply because you can’t figure out how to solve it.”


“I know. I know.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I know it all. And I have to go back to London this morning. My things are all at the inn.” He let out a shaky laugh. “I have a fortune to lose on the morrow. I can’t be late. But I can’t leave you like this.”

“Yes,” Ginny said stiffly, “you can.”

He winced, and then stood on shaky legs and took two steps toward the door.

She sniffed. “Put on trousers before you go.”

He stopped, turned, and crossed the room to where his clothing lay in a heap and shook out his shirt. He didn’t say anything as he dressed, but his jaw was squaring once more, with that familiar determination. When he’d pulled his coat on, he turned to her.

“So this is what I have to do. Obtain a massive fortune. Figure out how to stop being such a damned beast, when I’ve been one my whole life.” He nodded. “It basically seems impossible.”

Ginny sniffled again.

He crossed the room to her and then knelt beside her. “I love you,” he said. “And I may have a bloody stupid way of showing it, but I will fix this.”

“It’s not a thing to be fixed,” she said. “Don’t you see?”

He shook his head. “It will be,” he said grimly. “Once I’m done with it.”

He snapped on his ostentatious cuff links. He shouldn’t have looked so handsome in a rumpled cravat and a wrinkled coat. But he did. Her heart hurt, deep inside her.

“You’ll see,” he repeated doggedly. “I’m not sure how, but…” And on that note, he sketched her a short bow and left.

Her whole body seemed to ache in time with the sound of his retreating footsteps. She could run after him, but…

Her bedroom door opened, and Alice bustled through. She stopped at the sight of Ginny, still unclothed, nestled in the sheets. Ginny wiped frantically at her eyes, but the telltale ruddiness in her cheeks gave everything away.

“Well,” her maid said. “That did not go quite according to plan, did it?”

“I was improvising.” Ginny scrubbed at her eyes. “Circumstances rather demanded it.”

Alice frowned. “Are you still going, then? After he made you cry?”

Ginny looked up at the ceiling. All that pain was fading to a dull throb, settling into numbing disbelief. He’d hurt her. He’d made her cry. If he had actually trapped her into marriage under those circumstances, she wasn’t sure if she could ever have forgiven him. But he hadn’t done it.

He’d just wanted to.

But no matter how her mind circled, no matter how her heart ached, she would find no answers sitting in this house waiting placidly for his return.

Ginny let out a resigned breath. “I’m going. How long do I have?”

“If you still mean to board at Anniston, rather than Chester? You’ll have to be out of the house in thirty minutes. Charles is coming with the cart.”

Ginny got out of bed, and Alice came to help her dress. “My valise?” she said, as Alice tightened her corset.

“Is packed downstairs.”

“And the tickets?”

“In the front pocket of the valise, along with your tulip money.”

Twenty pounds. Barely enough to cover the cost of the trip and the deed-stamps.

“Good,” Ginny said. “I’ve got one impossible thing to do. The rest, I suppose, will be up to him.”





SIMON’S HEAD WAS STILL POUNDING by the time he entered the corporation’s office on Thursday morning. His train had arrived in London late on the previous night, and he’d not been able to sleep until just before dawn. He’d managed a few hours. He could have stayed in bed for days.

But there was nothing to be done for it. He had an appointment with Ridgeway, and if he had to beg the man, he’d beg. Which was why he found himself half tripping over his feet, scarcely awake, and wishing he could be anywhere else. Ridgeway had already arrived. He sat on a bench opposite Simon in the receiving room, arms folded, legs crossed, a glower on his face.

“You always thought you were the clever one,” Ridgeway said. “So. What is it you have to say—”

He squinted up at Simon’s face, and a look of revulsion passed over him.

Simon had no idea how he appeared. He hadn’t cared to look at himself in the mirror. He was sure his eyes were red from lack of sleep.

“Out late last night?” the other man asked caustically.

“Obvious, is it?”

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