HIM
I feel like I have the flu.
Waves of aching grip me periodically, breathing is difficult, and exhaustion is heavy on my shoulders.
True to her word, Mrs. Hobbs and Mr. Stephens announce Laura's imminent departure back to the north.
To her husband.
I barely speak to anyone. My head is underwater.
Self-pity is a dangerous thing.
I lay on my bed, staring at the unchanging ceiling. I don't have the energy to get up and close my window, even though the late summer heat makes me sticky and my clothes damp.
Every time I hear a noise from the house a stabbing pain shoots through me. She's leaving today, and every creak and thunk could be a door closing, a carriage departing.
Every second she gets farther away.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the tears that burn there.
Not even my door slamming open is enough for me to produce a reaction larger than a lazy glance to see who it is.
A furious Amber stands at the foot of my bed, and I can almost see the steam coming off her. She's an angry shade of red, and her eyes blaze hotter than the summer sun.
I can't bring myself to care.
Ignoring her, I sling an arm over my eyes.
It becomes much harder to ignore her when she takes a pillow, where she got it I have no idea, and starts hitting me with it.
"Hey! Amber—What the hell!"
It's more annoying than anything. She finally stops and steps away and I see her face. Tears flow down her cheeks and her hand seems to give up, the pillow slipping to the floor.
She looks so young.
"Amber—"
"You absolute ass."
She sniffs wetly, attempting to wipe her face with the back of her hand. She's glaring at me, looking like a feral wet cat.
I just blink at her, waiting for her accusations.
"She's gone."
My hand flies to my chest again, another unbearable wave knocking me back a step. I don't get a moment to process.
"See?" Amber is yelling at me now, flailing her arms wildly. "Look at your stupid face! You must care for her, I mean you wrote to her every week for three years!"
A familiar heaviness settles over me.
"Of course I care for her."
A new wave of emotion grips her and she rushes towards me, grabbing my shirt so hard I think it might tear.
"Then why? I thought you—" she spits the words. "You of all people were supposed to understand! I thought you were different."
Anger begins to bubble in me.
What right does she have to scold me for not begging a married woman to stay with me?
I feel my face twist with disdain.
"All I understand is she's going back to Thomas Prescott."
I spit my words too, especially his name. I say it like a swear, desperate to get it off my tongue.
"You—" She starts yelling before I'm even done, and then stops abruptly, reeling back. Anger and confusion warring on her face. "Who the hell is that?"
"Her husband." I respond bitterly.
She blinks at me once. Twice.
Sucks in a breath.
Her eyes search my face intensely, for what I don't know.
"Aleksi."
She says it like a warning. I just throw my hands up in surrender, unable to understand what the hell she's saying.
"Aleksi." She says again, like it means something. "You know. She said you knew."
The pain in my chest hadn't subsided since she told me Laura was really gone, and it's making me impatient.
"Dammit Amber I have no idea what you're talking about."
She sucks in another breath, one shaky hand going to her mouth.
"Oh god, you really don't know."
"Know what?" I snap.
"She was attacked." Amber says the words fast, like she used to, on an exhale so they sound almost like a gasp.
My blood turns to ice. And then fire.
I take a step towards her, my lips pulling back from my teeth. Despite everything, my urge to protect her, to avenge her, to destroy this unnamed threat is stronger than I've ever felt. No matter who it was, I'd be upset, but not like this. Not burning and murderous.
"Explain." The word is low and dark, terrifying.
"Before she first came here. At the place she worked before. He's… crazy. Obsessive and violent."
My stomach starts to sink, a chill sliding down my back despite the heat. A sense of foreboding grips me.
"Thomas?" My voice sounds strangled, broken.
"She didn't… give details about exactly what happened, but it's why she had to leave and come here. She didn't think he'd come looking for her."
No.
"He tracked her down when she was in Kingsward three years ago."
No.
"He… He found your letters to her."
Bile forces its way up my throat.
"He threatened her, and the people she cares about. Said he wouldn't stop. "
I feel like I'm standing on a beach, feeling the sand underneath me be pulled out to sea. I'm sinking.
"Adah helped her run away in the night, set her up in a new place with a fake name so he couldn't track her."
I don't need to ask. I know the answer. But I do anyway.
"Her husband?"
I hold my breath.
"She doesn't have one, it was just something to protect her."
A choking sob rips out of me, my stomach heaving. Desperation claws at me. I search for a foothold.
"Why didn't she tell Lord Welch? Lady Anna? They could protect her."
Amber is shaking her head sadly before I even finish.
"Aleksi."
I've never hated my name more. She says it like a parent would to a child before giving bad news. Comforting. Pitying.
I just mouth Amber's name, words failing.
"Lord Welch can't do anything. The man… he's a Duke."
Such silence in my head now.
Except one thing. One thing I again don't need to ask. I know.
"What's his name?" I say it like a command, flat and low.
She only stares at me, sympathy and sadness covering her.
Silence stretches between us, until finally, she says exactly what I know she will.
"Thomas Kensington, Duke of Aston."