Page 40 of A Match Made in Heather

Yet she wouldn’t wed herself to a man she didn’t love, and the only man she’d ever love would be Garrick. His return had taught her that, although the lesson had been brutal.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake,” her mother warned from the chair where she’d sank in shock when Arabel broke the news. “Who will marry you now?”

Who indeed?Arabel stared down at her left hand that wore no wedding ring and now most likely never would.

But the decision had been completely hers. For the first time, she’d openly defied her family and put her own choice for happiness before their desires. It had been terrifying, then incredibly freeing—

Rather, itshouldhave been freeing, but wasn’t. She wanted nothing more than to share this newly found independence with Garrick, but she couldn’t. He was gone from her life now, although still firmly lodged beneath Highburn’s roof. Having him so close without being able to touch him was pure torment. But there was no help for it.

“Does Lord Townsend know?” Aunt Matilda asked as she looped her arm around Arabel’s.

Unable to find her voice, she shook her head as hot tears threatened to fall.

“He deserves to hear it. From you, lass. You owe him that.”

Arabel’s shoulders sagged. “What difference will it make?”

“A world of it.” She squeezed Arabel’s arm, and the affectionate gesture nearly undid her. “Go on. Tell him.”

She supposed he did deserve to know, although she was far less certain that it would make any difference.

Her feet felt like lead as she left the room, all of her heavy and aching. What would he say when she’d told him what she’d done? Knowing Garrick . . .It’s about time.He’d been urging her to stand up to her family, to put her own wants first. Now that she finally had, would anything change?

Somethingwould, surely . . . wouldn’t it? Her heart stuttered as she climbed the stairs, her feet moving faster now. If she were willing to change and escape the past, couldn’t Garrick do the same?

She was nearly running by the time she reached the landing, her heart pounding frantically and each inhalation coming as a breathless tremble. Excitement surged through her, and more—hope.For the first time since she overheard the servants talking in the basement she felt a glimmering tingle of optimism that they might still find a way to be together.

She ran into his bedroom, the words she wanted to say poised on her tongue. “Garrick, I love—”

She froze. The room was empty. The bed where they’d made love had been stripped, and all his belongings packed up. There was no trace that he’d ever been there.

A brutal sense of loss pierced her so fiercely that she winced. As she stared at the empty room, her chest squeezed like a vise around her heart. It was as if he’d never returned, as if the past month had been nothing more than another dream from which she was now waking to find him gone once more.

Her hand rose to her lips to hold back the soft cry of anguish.

“Miss?” Jamieson asked with concern as he stepped into the room.

She choked back the tears as she forced out, “Where is Lord Townsend?”

“Packed up his things,” he explained. “His man Reeves is comin’ by later to collect ’em.” He said gravely, “His lairdship has left Highburn.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, but she couldn’t hold back the shuddering pain. Oh dear God, it was unbearable! As if a knife had sliced her heart in two. Garrick was gone, and whatever hope she’d gained from this morning’s revelations vanished like the fog. She’d lost him again, this time driving him away herself. Most likely forever.

“He left this for ye, miss.”

Arabel forced her eyes open but didn’t bother to try to hide her tears. What did it matter who saw that she loved him, now that he was gone?

Jamieson held out a note. Numbly, she took it and unfolded the paper.

Something small fluttered to the floor, but her eyes were fixed on the page. Her heart stopped as she read the note, and when it lurched to life again, the thud was so sharp, so intense that electricity shot through every inch of her.

“He’s returning to England,” she whispered. “He’s given up his claim to the property . . . to me and the Rowlands, to do with as we wish.”

She crushed the note in her palm as she pressed her hand to her chest and leaned against the tall bedpost to keep from falling away. Her heart pounded, but she felt it not at all compared to the tidal wave of emotion that swept through her, the rush of regret and loss . . . But in its wake came hope. Not the weak glimmer that had propelled her up the stairs to tell him that her wedding was off, but strong and determined.

“He’s left Highburn!” She laughed through her tears. Because she knewexactlywhat that meant—he’d abandoned his revenge. He’d finally freed himself from the chains of the past that had been holding him prisoner.

She blinked, able to clear her eyes only long enough to gaze down at the thing that had fallen from the note. Her heart slammed against her ribs so painfully that she gasped. It couldn’t be . . .