"I should have never married her, John. She knows too. I can tell she knows. I will have to tell her."

"You had no choice, man. Just be glad it's all behind you, or at least it will be, as soon as you tell Kendra."

Everything inside her stopped at the words. It made no sense . . . and then it made perfect sense. Before she even thought what she was doing, Kendra turned and fled through the crowd. She ran up the stairs and into her bedchamber. Closing the door to their room behind her, she leaned back against it.

He didn't want her.

He didn't want to be married to her anymore. He never had.

Despair swept over her in great waves, rolling over her and taking her under. Nothing in her life, not even her beloved father's death, had prepared her for such complete pain. It was an agony that robbed her breath.

"I can't breathe. I can't breathe," she rasped out to the room, stumbling toward the bed. "G.o.d help me, I can't breathe." The words kept ringing in her ears over and over until she thought her mind would explode with it. Lies, the last few blissful weeks had all been lies. Why? Why would he marry someone he didn't love?

He'd never said the words. He never said I love you.

He'd only said he'd marry her to keep her safe.

Face it, Kendra. She felt like shaking herself. He married her to protect her and she had let him, encouraged and led him to that moment. She was as bad as Angelene in her attempt to win him, just more subtle. Oh G.o.d, I've been manipulating him and now he is stuck in a marriage he doesn't want and regretting it. This is all my fault.

She fell to her knees and bent her head. "Forgive me. I'll make it right. I won't let him sacrifice himself for my selfish mistake." Love. It was time for her to exercise sacrificial love.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

The early morning air was cold on Kendra's face as she led the gray-dappled mare through the wooded path and then down a quiet street to Angelene's house in Yorktown. If Dorian knew she was out riding alone he would be furious, but then it really didn't matter anymore, did it? She couldn't fathom what he would feel when he found out she had left. Would he be relieved? Now he wouldn't have to find a way to get rid of her.

He wouldn't even know she was gone for several days. Luck had been on her side when she made her plans. Dorian had received an inquiry from a man interested in captaining the Angelina and was headed to Williamsburg to speak with him. Kendra hadn't known he had decided to no longer captain the ship himself and found it puzzling, but her heart was too heavy to really ponder the point. All she knew was that he would be gone for four or five days, giving her the opportunity she'd been waiting for.

She told the Colburn family that she would like to spend some time with Victoria while Dorian was away and she would be staying with her for awhile. Hannah had given her such a frown when she told her that Kendra almost believed she had read her mind, or at the very least knew something was wrong. She hated to deceive her, but there was no other choice. She couldn't bear to wait until Dorian left her. Just the thought of it brought back the waves of despair and the feeling that she couldn't catch her breath. No. She couldn't wait for him to do that to her. She would go home and put her life back together. And Angelene would be glad to help her find the first ship sailing back to England.

Ducking beneath a low branch, she adjusted her seating and kept a steady pace. She rounded a bend in the road and saw the house. There. Last chance to change her mind. She stopped and pulled a letter from her pocket. It was the letter that Dorian had received, the one that told of her inheritance.

Uncle Andrew wasn't happy about their marriage, that much was clear, but he had included a deed to a cottage and some land in Arundel. Kendra couldn't remember ever having been there. The letter said it was from her maternal grandmother and had pa.s.sed down through the eldest daughters for centuries. Andrew a.s.sured Dorian that it wasn't worth much. There were some bank notes for a few hundred pounds tucked inside the letter that was said to be the extent of the dowry. Andrew apologized that it wasn't more, in his snide way. Kendra had taken the notes and the deed, they were hers after all, packed up the bare essentials and now, here she was, at Angelene's house looking for help. A sad, choking sound escaped her throat as she spurred the horse further down the drive.

Taking a deep breath, Kendra dismounted and secured her horse to the hitching post. Picking up her skirt, she walked up the steps to the wide porch and knocked. A manservant answered and smiled at her in a kindly way. That was unexpected. She imagined Angelene's servants to wear armor beneath their livery in order to survive her barbs.

She handed over her card. "Is Miss Monteiro at home? I would like to pay her a call."

"Miss Monteiro? Gracious ma'am, she isn't up this early."

"Oh, dear." Kendra twisted the glove she'd taken off in her hands. "It's a matter of great importance. I don't know what I shall do without her help." Kendra felt the quivering of her bottom lip increase.

"Well now, that's a different matter, isn't it? There aren't many ever needs Angelene's help, but there's always that first time, now isn't there?" He looked alarmed with wide eyes and his lips pressed down into a frown. "Come in the drawing room here and I'll go and see if I can rouse her."

"Thank you." Kendra walked into a charming room of mint green and cream decor. Sinking onto a small sofa facing the door, she waited while trying not to chew on her bottom lip. A few minutes later, she looked down at her clenched fists in her lap and noted how her knuckles were white. Stop being nervous! Angelene would be glad to be rid of her, there was nothing to be afraid of on that score. The thought of the woman throwing herself at Dorian after she left made her throat ache. Help me be strong, full of patience and long-suffering, Lord. She knew this was only the first of many hard things she would have to do in the coming months.

It was a full half an hour later that Kendra heard a rustle of skirts approaching. She looked up to see Angelene, her face flushed and hair in disarray, enter the room.

"I can't believe it's true. What are you doing here?"

She paused, and her disdain dimmed as she saw Kendra's eyes fill. "Kendra, what's wrong? Has something happened to Dorian?"

"Yes, I'm afraid something has," Kendra said quietly. Standing, she walked to a window and looked out, feeling blank inside, as if she didn't know anything anymore. "I know we haven't been very good friends, but I need your help."

"Tell me what's happened." Angelene walked to her side and took hold of Kendra's upper arm in none too gentle a hold.

"I'm going to have to ask a favor of you, and I can't tell you why. Please"-she looked out into the yard again, fighting back the tears-"I need to find pa.s.sage back to England, as soon as possible."

"What do you mean, back to England? Are you visiting someone?"

"No, I'm . . . I'm leaving him. Please, don't ask why. can't tell you. It was just never meant to be."

Kendra looked at Angelene's smug face. "I was right, wasn't I? He doesn't love you."

Kendra turned away from her hard, glittering eyes. This was harder than she expected. With a little sniff, she pulled herself upright. Turning back to Angelene, she nodded. "I have to go home. And I need pa.s.sage back to England before Dorian returns from Williamsburg. Your father knows everything about ships. Please, I need your help leaving America as soon as possible."

Angelene just stood there for a long moment, looking into her eyes. Kendra couldn't tell by her stoic face if she felt happy or sad for her, but it didn't matter. She just needed the woman's cooperation. Then her lips curved up into a cold, calculating smile. "Of course I'll help. I'll do anything I can. My father is even now at the docks. We will walk down together and see him."

"Perfect. When can we leave?"

"Let me fetch my parasol and gloves. I never let the sun touch my delicate skin, you know."

Kendra nodded, feeling leaden inside.

"Just leave the details to me, Kendra. I'll get you home and it will be soon, very soon. I promise you that."

Dorian pushed his steed harder as they entered the yard. He had been gone five days, and he was eager to see his wife. It was the first time since their marriage that he'd been away so long. He hadn't realized how attached he'd become, how lonely life felt without her. Dorian hurried through the front door, met by his worried mother. "Thank G.o.d you're home, son," she said as she helped him off with his sodden coat.

"What's wrong? Is something wrong with Kendra?"

Hannah led her son into the front parlor and poured him a cup of hot tea before answering. "I'm not sure, dear, but I am worried. She rode out of here minutes after you left. She seemed to be in such a hurry to leave and she hasn't been the same . . . since your birthday party. She said she was going to stay with Victoria for a few days and visit while you were away, but I haven't heard a word from her since. I sent one of the stable hands over this morning to tell her that I expected you home today and to see how she was doing but he hasn't returned yet. I don't want to worry you unnecessarily, but I have a bad feeling that something has happened. I would suggest you ride over there yourself and bring her home."

Dorian downed the rest of his drink and shrugged back into his coat. "I'll go now. I knew I shouldn't have taken this trip. Something was wrong before I left but she wouldn't tell me what it was." With a grim set to his mouth, he gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried back out the door.

The ride to Victoria's house seemed to take forever. He had a fresh mount and it was a good thing, because he nearly drove the poor beast into the ground in his haste. When he finally saw the house come into view, he breathed a sigh of relief. He would force her to tell him what was wrong. Whatever it was, they would find a solution. There was nothing between them they couldn't resolve. Reining in his steed, he threw the lines to the waiting stable boy and raced up the stairs to bang on the door. Victoria answered it. "Dorian, this is a surprise. I'm afraid John isn't here."

Alarm rang through Dorian's mind. "I'm here to see my wife. Where is Kendra?"

"Kendra?" Victoria motioned for him to come in. "Please come in where we can talk."

Dorian allowed her to lead him to the drawing room. He ignored her motion for him to sit. Remaining standing, Dorian said as pleasantly as he could manage, "Victoria, please go and get my wife."

Victoria paled. "Dorian, I haven't seen Kendra since your birthday party. Has something happened? Is she missing?"

Dorian fell back into the chair across from her and leaned his head into his hands. "I don't know. She told my mother she was coming here to stay while I was in Williamsburg." He looked up at her, his hair swinging in his eyes. His heart was pounding. Hard. Too hard. If Kendra had been abducted again he didn't know how he would handle it. But that made no sense. She had left on her own, telling lies about where she was going.

"Oh, dear." Victoria sat down across from him. "I haven't seen or heard from her. I don't know . . ."

Dorian was stunned. Never in all his wildest imaginations did he think that Kendra would leave him. Why? What had happened? What had he done?

"We'll find her," Victoria said in a low, calming voice. "She must have left some clues. Have you searched your rooms?"

Dorian shook his head. "I came straight here."

"We must go back. She may have left a note or something."

"Yes." Dorian stood up. "Go back." He gave a little bow murmuring, "Thank you, Victoria," and rushed from the room.

"Wait. I'll come with you!"

But it was too late. Before she had time to get to the door she heard horse hooves pounding away.

Victoria had been right.

Back in his room, Dorian found a note on the dressing table. He tore it open with shaking hands.

Dear Dorian, I know you are probably shocked to be reading this letter. I'm sure by now Victoria has told you that I did not come to visit her. I have decided that it is time for me to go home to England. I would like to thank you for the security you gave me by giving me your name. After I was taken by Martin, I was terrified for my life. When you offered marriage to protect me, I grasped at the chance because I love you. I realize now what a great sacrifice that was for you and I thank you, but now it's time for me to make a life for myself. I'm ready to begin again and am returning to my true home to do just that. Please, if it is in your mind to follow me-don't. You won't change my mind and if you think about it, I'm sure you really wouldn't want to anyway. Please know that I will always cherish our brief time that we spent together, but I am doing the only thing I can, the right thing to do. I am setting you free. You will always hold a special place in my heart.

Forever in your debt, Kendra Dorian blinked several times and reread it. And then read it again, more confused than ever. "In your debt?" What did she mean? She didn't want to be his wife? What could she possibly be thinking by "setting him free"? The only freedom he had ever felt had been when he held her in his arms. He turned to pace but couldn't seem to move. Another thought occurred to him. She had only married him for the protection of his name. G.o.d, had it all been a lie? Like the time before? Had it happened again?

With sudden energy he searched the room and her belongings. She had taken most of her things and clothing and something else, something that made the puzzle snap into place.

The letter from Andrew Townsend.

The deed. The banknotes. Her inheritance.

Was that what she'd wanted all along?

Chapter Twenty-Five.

Standing on the deck of the ship Liberty, Kendra looked out toward the London harbor in the distance. Low-lying fog shrouded the city against gray, water-laden clouds. The wind chilled her to her core, causing her nose to ache and shoulders quiver. It was a sharp contrast to the day she'd left, so bright and sunny. Now, it was January, winter had come and, with it, the London drear.

The voyage had been depressing as well with bad weather d.o.g.g.i.ng them, rough waves and storms, so much rain. Then she'd experienced the occurrence of morning sickness which lasted well into each day. She had hardly left her cabin for the entire ten weeks at sea. Thank heavens that was fading. She was feeling better now, physically at least. The rest of her felt strangely numb, as if she couldn't muster the strength to care about anything. Kendra placed her hand on her slightly rounded stomach. Please G.o.d, let everything be alright. She'd never felt so alone. Aboard another cargo ship, she didn't even have fellow pa.s.sengers to talk to. But she was almost home.

Home. Seeing the English sh.o.r.eline brought bittersweet tears to her eyes. It was good to be home, but at the same time the aching hole in her heart throbbed with longing for her husband. I'll never find another man like Dorian, will I? Why couldn't it have been for real?

I only have You, Lord. I'm sorry for even thinking that You are not enough. But I miss him. Another person to miss.

Interrupting her thoughts, the captain walked over and stood beside her at the rail. He was a wiry, red-headed man with freckles covering every exposed inch of his weathered face, who spoke with an Irish accent. He'd been too busy to do more than send an occasional sailor down to check on her and another to bring her meals each day, meals she had mostly not been able to eat. But now his blue eyes twinkled at her, seeming glad to be at their journey's end. "We'll be docking in a few hours, Mrs. Colburn. If you've not already packed, you might wish to do so."

"Thank you, Captain. I will."

With a polite tip of his hat, he was gone.

Kendra watched his retreating back. The numbness she fought settled back around her like the fog around the city. She turned and stared at the water, at the waves, and wondered what life would bring next.

And if she could survive it.

Dorian tore across the open field on his Palomino stallion, feeling the controlled muscle of the animal explode with power at the slightest signal of pressed thigh or a tug of the reins. Over the last two weeks since Kendra had left him, he spent every evening working the horse until they were both lathered with sweat. The results were showing. They were learning each other, an instinctive collaboration as to what the other wanted and was capable of. And they pushed, both of them, to the limits of flesh and bone-spirits soaring, bodies straining, souls listening.

The sun faded into a molten red glow at the edge of the horizon but Dorian didn't heed its warning. The relief these rides provided from the constant ache was too great to stop. It was almost like being aboard the Angelina when the wind whipped the sails flat and they clipped along at amazing speeds. It was like flying. Like running headlong into the elements and becoming one with them. It made him feel alive.

His breath whooshed out as they turned in a tight circle at the edge of the clearing and raced back toward the barn. Kahn whinnied, lengthening his neck and stride. They were both breathing in even, ragged gasps. Up and over the swells of the field and then plunging down into gentle valleys, they soared together. The landscape blurred past, a frenzy of movement, a jolting of joy flowed from animal to man. The pounding sound of Kahn's hooves matched Dorian's beating heart.

Kendra . . . Kendra . . . Kendra . . .

Noooo! He turned the echoing name aside and clenched his eyes shut. Focusing on Kahn he reclaimed his calm and urged him on even faster. Faster than they'd ever gone. Reckless. Not caring if it killed them. Ravished. Torn apart except in this moment of total concentration.

It was the only thing that worked. Dear G.o.d, it's the only thing that works! His throat tightened with the thought, with the truth.

A sudden dip in the ground made the proud beast stumble. It happened so fast Dorian couldn't react. But Kahn did. With an almost supernatural grace he sidestepped with his powerful back legs, haunches gathered up and exploding with power. He reared up. Dorian clung to him with all the muscle he could muster. Kahn leapt forward, avoiding the hidden hole and springing back into a run. Dorian slowed him by degrees until they smoothed into a canter across the field. He didn't seem injured but he wasn't taking any chances. He felt a fool, heat stinging his cheeks when he thought of how hard he had pushed Kahn. And yet, the horse seemed to enjoy it as much as he.

Thank G.o.d he wasn't injured in my foolishness.

They cantered at a gentle pace back to the barn where Dorian gave instructions to have Kahn brushed down, watered, and fed an extra measure of oats. He turned toward the house then. He dreaded going to his room, but it was growing dark and he would have to face it sooner or later.

Walking through the entry he heard a noise coming from his father's study. "Dorian? Is that you?"

He ignored the question and hurried up the stairs. He'd avoided his parents and, especially Faith, since Kendra had left. Their questioning, sympathetic faces were more than he could bear. He needed to get away again. Like he had with Molly, only he needed escape much, much worse this time.

Entering his suite of rooms, he headed toward the decanter and poured a drink. He slammed it back then took off his dust-smeared coat and slung it across a velvet chair. He was filthy. He should ring for a bath but he didn't care. Let the room stink right along with him. He poured another drink and took a sip, sinking down on the Persian rug beside his bed. With one knee up, he braced his forearm and stared into the growing darkness, sipping the burning talons of fire from the gla.s.s until full dark had settled around the room. His body relaxed against the bedframe behind him.

His mind slowed until even blinking made him tired. He was so tired. Tired of running. Tired of feeling the pain despite everything in his power he'd done not to feel it. Tired of not knowing . . . anything.

He slung the empty gla.s.s away with a weak flick of his wrist and heard it roll, clunking across the polished wood floor. Why did she leave me? I don't understand. I thought she wanted to be my wife. If she really loved me, she wouldn't have left.

The silence in the room grew thick, like the dark. Dorian took a sudden breath, afraid. He glanced around, wishing he had thought to light the lantern but couldn't seem to move, just waited.

Go ahead. Give it to me. I deserve it.

He didn't know if he was still talking to G.o.d or the devil maybe. But something in him was rising up and he needed to finish this.

I miss you, son.