“That is not the point.”
“Do you love her?”
“Of course, I do, how could I not? I want her to be my wife, in every sense of the world. But how can I when I know what it will lead to?”
“Do you truly think that Lydia is anything like that snake we had for a mother? Do you think she would bend you to her will?”
“No.” Archer swallowed and looked his sister in the eye, unable to keep the truth buried any longer. “I am not worried that Lydia would be our mother; I am worried that it will be me. That I will be too weak to resist my urges. That if I give into what she makes me feel, I will becomeher.”
There was a beat of silence as Archer and Cora looked at each other, and then his sister nodded. “Dash, do you actually think mother ever… loved anything?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.” Cora sat down beside him. “What mother showed was never love. It was control. What she and father had, it was some not love. Infatuation, passion, obsession. But that is not love.”
“But that is what this feels like, Cora. I cannot stop thinking about her. Do you know why I have drunk myself senseless? Because if I could not walk, I could not give in to this urge to go to her. She is always in my thoughts. Whether it is as simpleas how I could make her smile, or just a memory of something totally mundane that she has said. I feel so out of control with her.”
Cora paused for a moment, as though weighing her words carefully. “Is it being out of control or knowing that if she leads, you can safely follow?”
Her words cut through him, and she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him in an awkward hug. “This is love. Giving without expecting something in return.”
“What if it’s too late, Cora? What if I’ve ruined everything with her? I let her go; I told her. I said it was not worth it—I know how that sounds, but I did not mean she was not worth it. I meant…” He trailed off as Cora squeezed him tighter.
“I am not the one you need to say this to. You need to talk to your wife,” Cora murmured and then gave him a wicked smile. “Though you really should shave before you see her—otherwise she might run for the hills.”
“Full of wit, as always.” Archer stood up and stretched, his back and shoulders making ominous cracking noises. He wrinkled his nose. “Though you are definitely right about the bath.”
“I’d burn those clothes if I was you.” Cora gestured to the roaring fire.
“Your Grace! Your Grace! Oh God, where is he?” Dotty came hurtling through the hall, glancing right past Archer.
“Dotty?” Archer frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“Your Grace? Oh, thank goodness, it is you! It is the Duchess.” Dotty clutched at a stitch.
“What is wrong? What happened to the Duchess?” His blood turned to ice.
“I think she has gone mad, Your Grace. She insisted on going for a carriage ride. I tried to stop her, told her there were no drivers, but she would not hear it.” Dotty wrung her hands. “I know that look, Your Grace. She would not have let them stop her.”
Archer was already moving, the maid struggling to keep up with her. “How long ago was this?”
“I ran here as fast as I could. It could not have been more than five minutes. Perhaps six,” Dotty panted.
Archer nodded. There was time. The cottage was closer to the stables, but if luck favored him, he would be able to find her. Cora was hot on his heels, and the pair of them hurtled through the door.
I have to find her. She is going to get herself killed. God. Not this!
“Have either of you to seen Iris?” Juliet called to them as they sped past.
Archer’s heart sunk even further, and he ran like the devil himself was chasing him, Cora beside him. They arrived in time to see the Phaeton pulling away, and his heart sank then rose when he saw it stop.
It was too far for him to yell, but if she just stayed still long enough. Screaming. The horse rearing. The Phaeton tumbling, two bodies hurtling from it.
“Lydia!” Archer screamed as Cora yelled, “Iris!”
They ran. The silhouettes—there were definitely two. “We must mind the river,” Archer shouted to Cora as they ran towards the figures. “It will be impossible to see in this.”
“Perhaps we should head for the pa?—”
