Page 67 of Once Upon a Midnight Dream

“Tupp says, Zander, I mean Captain Westbrook,” she rushed to correct, “gave the two blokes a proper drubbing, before carrying his lordship to the viscount’s smart carriage, depositing him inside, and telling the driver to drive hell-bent for leather to London.”

He left me.

Legs shaking so badly Lilly was not positive she could stand, she pushed herself to her feet. She gripped the table’s edge with white-knuckled fingers, willing her knees not to buckle under the weight of her grief and disbelief. “I …I need some air.”

“Lilly…? Dear?” Worry rendered Mrs. B’s voice wobbly. “Please tell me. What can I do?”

Lilly waved her hand, not trusting herself to speak.

She forced one foot in front of the other until she reached the kitchen garden entrance. She fumbled with the handle before finally wrenching the door open.

Frigid pre-dawn air stalled Lilly’s breath, but she welcomed the briskness stinging her cheeks and eyes.

“Lilly?” Mrs. B called again.

Tears leaked from the corners of Lilly’s eyes, and she bit her lower lip hard to suppress the primal cry of agony clawing at her throat.

She picked up her skirts and ran.

And ran.

And ran.

Lilly pelted past the stables and the orchard.

One cow mooed a sleepy welcome, but Lilly didn’t slow her pace.

She dashed past the pond and the oak grove.

With each step, she berated and castigated herself.

Lackwit.

Gudgeon.

Clodpole.

Addlepate.

She sprinted until her lungs burned and her breath came in great wheezing gasps, and then, unable to take another step, she folded to her knees on the dew-covered ground.

It was only then that she realized her traitorous feet had carried her to the very place where Layton had been discovered those many weeks ago.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

A wail more suited to a mortally wounded animal tore itself from her throat, and she collapsed into a heap, curling her fingernails into the damp soil.

He is gone.

He is gone.

I shall never see my love again.

Lilly’s heart splintered, and she almost swooned from the agony spearing her.

She wanted to faint, to escape the pain eviscerating her.

Curling into a fetal position, she sobbed uncontrollably, despising herself for her weakness, but unable to wrestle her grief under control. She did not know how much time passed as she lay there, wounded and mind numb, but eventually, the reservoir of her tears ran dry.