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She felt panic clutch at her chest as he stared at her in silence, smiling unsteadily, a strange, unfamiliar light glittering in his eyes.
Abruptly he stood up and cleared his throat. ‘I’m going to go back to the party. Make sure everything’s okay. And you need to get some sleep, Papi. It’s been a very long night for you. And this can wait until morning. We don’t want to push Miss Elliot into a decision she regrets.’
Her body tensed as he turned, but he didn’t even look at her as he walked out of the room. Pain and panic tore through her as she watched him leave. For one terrible, agonising moment she wanted to go after him and pull him back. Demand that he stay and explain. But she stopped herself. Laszlo had never been much good with words, but on this occasion he didn’t need to be. He didn’t need to explain anything. His actions were loud enough.
He didn’t want her to stay.
He didn’t want her at all.
* * *
It was nearly time to leave. The vardo gleamed in the late-morning sun. Gently Prudence ran her hand over the gold-painted scrolls and garlands and bouquets of flowers. It was truly a labour of love. For the craftsman who’d made it, at least. She bit her lip.
Slowly she walked up the steps, touching, feeling the wood smooth and warm beneath her fingers. Picking up a pillow from the bed, she closed her eyes and inhaled: woodsmoke and orange blossom. It was his scent, but even as she inhaled it seemed to fade. Opening her eyes, she crawled onto the bed and stared bleakly out of the window. From where she lay the castle seemed to fill the tiny square of glass entirely, blocking out the light.
Just as Laszlo had dominated her life from the moment she’d met him seven years ago.
Rolling onto her back, she closed her eyes.
They had come so close to making it work.
Yesterday, for the first time ever, he had opened up to her about so many things. His family...his fears.
Her breath caught in her throat. He had needed her emotionally—wanted her support. And she had let herself believe that it meant something, for it had felt as if something had changed between them. As if there had been some shift in the fundament of their relationship.
Her heart gave a painful lurch. But of course, as with so much of their relationship, nothing was what it seemed.
She shivered, remembering Laszlo’s face when Janos had called her one of the family. She could have ignored his reaction. Let it go. As she’d let so many other things go because she’d feared losing him. But she didn’t fear losing him any more.
On the contrary—what she’d feared most was that she wouldn’t be strong enough to leave him.
Her eyes grew hot and damp. It had been so, so hard the last time. She drew in a breath. But she had got over it eventually. And she would do so again. In time, and with distance between them. Which was why she’d gone to find Janos that morning and told him that she needed to go home for a few days. She’d used the excuse that she needed to talk through his offer with Edmund and he’d agreed immediately, as she’d known he would. Jakob had even pulled strings so that a seat had been found for her on a plane leaving that evening.
Opening her eyes, she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back her misery. Part of her wanted to stay. The part that felt as if it was disintegrating. But what would be the point? Her love wasn’t enough for Laszlo; she wasn’t enough for him.
She lifted her chin and the knot of misery in her stomach began to loosen. She was not about to crumble. Laszlo might not love her but she still had her self-respect. And if she wanted to avoid the same fate as her mother, diminished and worn down by unrequited love, she needed to get away from him.
That meant leaving Hungary. And never coming back.
It was the first time she’d acknowledged that fact—if not out loud then in her head. But she knew it was the right—the only choice she had. She needed to be where her judgement wasn’t skewed by her heart. That was why she was going home to her family.
She glanced up at the sky and frowned. And why she needed to start packing.
Back at the cottage, suitcase packed, she walked dully from room to room, checking for anything she might have forgotten. With a stab of pain she noticed Laszlo’s dinner jacket, hanging on the back of the kitchen door. He’d draped it over her shoulders when they’d left the party and she’d still been wearing it later when, dumb and still shivering from shock, she had let Janos get Gregor, the handyman and chauffeur, to escort her back to the cottage.
She lifted her chin. She would give it to him at lunchtime. Despite eating breakfast at the cottage, she’d resigned herself to the fact that seeing him one last time was inevitable. At least with Janos there there would be no risk of her losing control and throwing a bowl of soup in his face.
But at lunchtime Laszlo’s seat was conspicuously empty.
Janos was apologetic. ‘He didn’t come down for breakfast either. He’s probably with Mihaly,’ he said, trying to sound encouraging as Prudence tried and failed to eat the delicious lunch Rosa had made especially for her. ‘I’m sure he’ll be here any moment.’
But he hadn’t appeared.
Later, waiting at the airport, she felt almost sick with nerves, for part of her had stupidly hoped that he would come after her.
It was only when she was boarding the plane that she knew that it was really, finally over.
Glancing wearily out of the window, she watched the patchwork of green and brown fields disappear beneath the clouds. It was better that it had ended like this, with her on her own. There would be nothing to haunt her now, for that last evening in Janos’s study seemed to have fled her memory.
