“Don’t make me ask again,” Mrs Armstrong gritted out.
Tears threatened to spill, but Pearl bit them down. She wouldn’t fall into pieces in front of Mrs Armstrong. She grabbed a bag and stuffed a few warm clothes and her toiletries in it. Pain burned in her chest and in the back of her throat. Christopher, how could she leave him like that? She slowed the packing and glanced towards his room.
“Quickly!” Mrs Armstrong stomped a foot on the floor. “Don’t make me regret my generosity.”
Curse her. Pearl slid on a brown gown and her sturdy pair of boots. Tears blurred her vision. One day, somehow, she’d explain everything to Christopher, if the police didn’t arrest her. Maybe it was better if she left. Once the whole affair about her father was forgotten, she would be a free woman again.
Mrs Armstrong held the door open. “Out. And be quiet.”
Only the chiming of the grandfather clock in the dining room echoed in the silent corridor. Each tick sounded like a goodbye.
Pearl slogged downstairs, her satchel strapped on her shoulder. “Can I least say goodbye to Julia?”
“Don’t you dare. I’m sure you influenced that poor girl with your scandalous behaviour.” Mrs Armstrong waved her away.
The cold night air slapped Pearl’s face when she stepped into the backyard. Moonlight glinted off the white cobbles of the path that would lead her to the town and to the station. A fresh stab of pain pierced her. Everything was going wrong. It shouldn’t have ended like this.
Mrs Armstrong remained on the threshold, hands folded on her front, cold and hard like a statue.
Pearl pulled the hood of her coat over her head and started down the road. Her heart beat in her throat in a wild rhythm that seemed to beg her to go back. Christopher would hate her for leaving like this, but he’d hate her more if he knew her true identity. When they’d been making love, she’d loathed hearing him calling her Amelia.
It was as if he were loving another woman, and in a way, it was true. She wasn’t the woman he believed she was. She was a fraud, a wanted person, not sweet, aristocratic Amelia.
“Sneaking out like a thief?” Dorian’s voice coming from the trees bordering the road tore a gasp from her.
He was mounting a horse and looming over her from the edge of the road.
She must’ve been too absorbed in her own grief to hear him.
He raked a slow gaze over her, taking in her satchel. “You’re leaving.”
“I must.” She resumed walking, tightening her grip on the strap of the satchel. “Goodbye.”
“You’re going to break his heart. You’re going to hurt him. Badly.”
The words stopped her and stole her breath. This time she couldn’t hold the tears. They flowed down freely on her cheeks and chin.
A thud sounded, the noise of his boots hitting the ground as he dismounted. His footsteps approached.
His voice sounded low and gentle in the darkness. “Whatever Chris did to scare you away, he didn’t mean it. He can be a cold-hearted bastard when he wants, but he’s the best man I know, loyal to a fault, honest to the core. And I’m sure he loves you. He might not have realised it just yet, but I’ve seen how he looks at you. It’s the look of a man in awe of you.”
It was too much. She covered her face and sobbed. “I have to go. Believe me, I wouldn’t, but I have no choice. It’s not something he did. It’s something I’ve done.”
Awful, choking noises escaped from her mouth.
Dorian walked around her and stepped in front of her. “He’ll forgive you.”
She shook her head, wiping her face with the sleeve of her coat.
“I’ve never seen him so happy. When you’re with him, he’s the carefree man I knew when we were younger, before the worries and the war wore him down. You can’t leave. He’ll never recover.”
“If I stay, he’ll be worse.” It’d be like gutting him. “I can’t go back.”
“Do you love him?”
In other occasions, she would’ve found the question rude and would’ve replied with a ‘it’s not any of your business,’ but tonight was different. She couldn’t ignore the fluttery feelings dancing in her stomach every time Christopher was close, the strong attraction for him, or the fact that he made her feel safe and loved.
Swallowing past the knot in her throat, she nodded. “I do.”
