And he wanted to make love to her.
Of course, he always wanted to make love to her. But this time, perhaps, she’d offer him the privilege of her consent.
The shadows that dogged his life had retreated. Verity had banished them.
He sat up, determined to find her. She must like him a little, trust him a little, to act as she had.
What a pathetic reflection on the great Duke of Kylemore that he placed such importance on this small concession.
Hope had been excised from his life since earliest childhood. But as he dressed in that quiet room, hope was the only cause he could find for the sudden lightness in his soul.
Kylemore entered the small chamber he’d chosen as his own, but she wasn’t there, nor had the narrow bed been used.
Perhaps reliving her unhappy story meant sleep had eluded her and she’d sat out the dawn downstairs. He was desperate to see her, to test if their strange intimacy survived the daylight. He was desperate to see her because away from her, he felt incomplete.
But the gloomy parlor was empty as well. Foreboding began to beat a doom-laden chant in his heart.
Where was she? She couldn’t have left him. Not after last night. Devil take it, she’d trusted him, cared for him, confided in him.
But before that, he’d forced her into his bed.
Of course, she’d eventually succumbed to desire, as she always did. A desire of the body, not the mind. Her mind had resisted him right to the end.
Then she’d held him through his terrors. Which meant they had at last moved beyond compulsion and misery, hadn’t they?
His answer to that question grew more hesitant as he searched the grounds. Heartsick and uneasy, he returned to the house. In the kitchen, Morag and Kirsty harangued Hamish in shrill Gaelic. Apparently, food and clothing were missing.
In an instant, Kylemore’s fragile hopes crumbled to ash.
“Has anyone seen madame this morning?” He cut through the argument, although he already knew what response he’d receive.
With a frown, Hamish looked past his voluble nieces. “The lassie isnae with Your Grace? She hasnae been down yet.”
Kylemore’s fears coalesced into bleak certainty.
She’d gone. She’d lulled him into relaxing his vigilance, then seized her opportunity to escape. Bloody fool he was, he’d forgotten that she was never less than clever, whether she was Verity or Soraya.
“Get Angus and Andy,” he said sharply, cursing her, cursing himself. “We’ll organize a search.”
If she’d gone as soon as she’d left him—and he had no reason to assume otherwise—she had several hours start. He had to find her before she left the glen. The dangers this harsh environment presented were hellishly real.
A quick trip to the stables assured him she hadn’t taken a horse. Given her fear of the animals, that was no surprise.
For the first time since he’d realized she’d abandoned him again, he felt faint optimism. If she was on foot, riders would have less difficulty overtaking her.
“Angus and Andy, you take the road over the range.” He didn’t modify the harshness of his tone. “Hamish and I will follow the loch.”
Only two routes led out of the glen—the mountain road and the path along the lochside to the coast. Verity already knew how difficult travel was over land. The loch presented an easier prospect until she reached the narrow passage between the mountains, where she’d need a boat. With any luck, he’d trap her there.
“Kate, Morag and Kirsty, check if she’s anywhere near the house. Perhaps she’s merely taking the air.” He already knew she’d run away. It was what he’d have done.
Curse him for a blockhead. Ever since he’d kidnapped her, he’d made sure she was watched. But last night had made him stupid. Now she could pay with her life for his stupidity.
Christ, he couldn’t bear to think she might die. Better he’d left her in Whitby than that. His gut clenched with guilt and despair.
He and Hamish rode westward. The day was fine and still, but such warmth often portended storms later.
For God’s sake, had she dismissed his warnings? Even men born here lost their lives in these mountains when the weather turned sour—as it did with alarming regularity.