The world tilted slightly. “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”
“Gone,” Flora repeated gently. “His clothes. His gear. Nothing left in the room but rumpled sheets.”
Ruby stared at her. “No,” she said automatically. “He wouldn’t leave without telling me.”
Charlie stepped closer. “Ruby, no one has seen him all day.”
“No,” Ruby repeated, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. We’re going for a ride. That’s why I’m waiting for him.”
But a sick, hollow feeling was opening up inside her. She turned abruptly and began walking—then running—toward the stables.
She shoved the door hard enough that it banged against the wall and burst through, hurrying down the row of stalls. She stopped at one of them—the one in which the horse Evan had borrowed from the innkeeper in Edinburgh had been stabled.
The stall was empty.
“Oh, no,” she whispered. Her eyes roved over the stall as though trying to find evidence to the contrary, but all that she saw was used straw—and a bit of parchment tacked to the wall. She yanked it down and opened it. Scrawled inside was just one word.
Sorry.
Something inside her cracked. The shock came first—numb and disbelieving. Then the hurt, hot and immediate. And beneath it, something darker.
Anger.
He had stood in that manor house and told her he loved her. He had asked her to imagine a life together. He had kissed her as if she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
And now—
Sorry.
“You coward,” she whispered.
She crumpled the note in her fist. Heat flooded her face, humiliation burning through her veins. She fled the stable, bursting past Charlie and Flora and running back to the house. She pushed through the door and up the stairs, not stoppinguntil she reached her room. For a moment she simply stood there, shaking, thoughts tumbling through her head so quickly she barely registered them.
Then she moved.
She dragged a canvas bag from beneath the bed and began shoving her things into it with frantic, jerking movements. Dresses, undergarments, the few belongings she’d accumulated here. Tears slipped down her cheeks unchecked.
“Idiot,” she muttered, not sure whether she was referring to herself or Evan or both. “Idiot.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Ruby?” Charlie called.
“Go away.”
The door opened anyway. Charlie stepped inside, her expression filled with worry.
“We don’t know what’s happened,” she said softly. “He may not have left willingly.”
Ruby let out a sharp, broken laugh. “He took his clothes. His horse. And he left me a note that says sorry.”
Charlie flinched. “That’s not—”
“It is!” Ruby snapped, whirling to face her. “He’s gone! I feel it in here!” She thumped her chest.
Charlie’s eyes searched hers. “All right. But you don’t know why.”
“I don’t need to. He’s done this before. He runs. That’s what he does.” She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. “I can’t stay here,” she said, voice cracking. “I can’t sit at dinner and pretend. I can’t look at that manor house and—” She swallowed hard. “I have to go.”
“Go where?”
