Why would she decide to set him free now? After working so hard to get him? He couldn’t make sense of it. Why would she let him walk away without a word?
Because love sought is good, but given unsought is better. Shakespeare’s quote lodged itself in his brain and refused to leave it. Miranda had sought his love for as long as he could remember and had despaired of ever having it. She had always been there for him, waiting for him to claim her steadfast and loyal heart. She had become his bride to protect him from the consequences of his actions, only to discover that he had no memory of the deed. And she had sent him on his way without telling him, in order to prove that she had no intentions of binding him to her if he would rather be somewhere else.
Daniel closed his eyes and saw her face, heard her sharp-tongued replies, felt the surge of energy she gave him, the spark of desire that ignited whenever they were together. Miranda. He had always had Miranda. And he had always managed to disappoint her.
He looked up at Colin. “I think Miranda is afraid I’m going to let her down.”
“Are you?”
“No.” He smiled. “For once, I am going to exceed the Marchioness of St. Germaine’s wildest expectations.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“There are truths which are not for
all men, nor for all times.”
—Voltaire, 1694–1778
Daniel exited Colin and Gillian’s house some twenty minutes later, crossed the street, and called out to the driver. “Driver, have you a passenger?”
The driver doffed his hat and shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“No, sir.”
“Are you for hire?”
The driver shook his head once again. “No, sir. I’m a private coach.”
“Then, may I ask why you’re following me?”
“I’m not following you, sir.”
Daniel lifted an eyebrow at that falsehood. “Interesting, since I seem to run into you at every turn …”
“Perhaps you’ve mistaken my coach for someone else’s,” the driver suggested.
“Perhaps,” Daniel allowed, gesturing for the driver to lean down. “What is your name?”
“Yates, sir.”
“Well, Yates, am I to assume that as a private coach, you are in someone’s employ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Might I have the name of your employer?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, sir,” the driver replied.
Daniel paused. “I’m the Duke of Sussex,” he told him, “and there’s fifty pounds in it for you if you’ll be so kind as to return to your employer and stop shadowing me.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the driver answered as Daniel peeled off the pound notes and handed them up to him.
“Be off with you, then,” Daniel instructed. “And don’t let me catch sight of you or your coach again.”
“I can’t promise that, Your Grace,” the driver protested. “I work for a living, driving my employer to and from. We’re sure to cross your path now and again, as you gentlemen all frequent the same establishments.”