He had wanted her. She probably went into the marriage because he was familiar, and now she wanted a family. She demanded that he choose between justice and what they managed to form—not quite love, but more than friendship.
He had been working towards justice for years, he thought it would be an easy choice, but it turned out not to be. When she turned her back at him, he felt a hole in his chest.
Today, when she went with her luggage, the hole widened, leaving him hollow.
Seth burst in a few minutes later, looking more furious than he had ever been to him.
Red-faced, he flung his coat and threw it onto the floor.
“You absolute bastard. You mule-headed man!” he roared.
Alasdair should be shocked at his friend’s complete change in personality, but he merely grunted, “Evenin’, Seth,” while he stayed put in his chair.
Seth grabbed the empty whiskey bottle and glared at it. “Well, it looks like I’m too late. You can’t do this, Alasdair. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. If you truly want to destroy yourself, do it after you’ve cleared your father’s name or all these sacrifices are for naught. Not before.”
“Elizabeth left, Seth,” he whispered, not sounding like himself.
It felt like he and his friend had switched personalities for the evening. It might as well be.
“I am going to guess that you left her with no choice! She married you because you offeredprotection. You were a safe haven for her.”
Alasdair wondered if that was all he was to her. But for someone like Elizabeth, who had grown up afraid, it was everything.
“Ye ken I cannae let Kittridge win.” Alasdair growled, rising from his seat. “I meself daenae hae a choice in this. I cannae live another month pretendin’ me faither wasnae disgraced, tortured, and murdered! It’s been weighin’ on me chest for far too long. I cannae live me life properly till I’ve done somethin’ about it.”
“You could still fight Kittridge without putting Elizabeth aside,” Seth said, calming down a little.
He was still flushed and panting, but he was watching Alasdair as if he was more willing to listen now.
“She left. Of her own accord.” Alasdair’s tone was sharper now, more defensive.
He turned away, as though putting distance between himself and the guilt.
“I said that already, didn’t I? I’m nae the one who?—”
He broke off. The rest of the sentence caught in his throat.
I’m not the one who gave up.
I’m not the one who walked away.
Except… hadn’t he?
Seth exhaled, the sound short and bitter.
“There you go.” He pushed away from the edge of the desk, lifting his hands in surrender. “You know what you did. I don’t have to say another damn thing.”
And with that, he walked out, leaving Alasdair alone with the silence—and the truth.
For a time, Elizabeth thought that she’d finally found a place where she belonged without any limitations. Alasdair had made sure that she knew she had rooms in his home, both in London and in Scotland.
Now, she was back in a guest chamber at her sister Marianne’s home.
She sat by the window and wondered how the sky knew what she was feeling. It was overcast and grey.
“You need to eat,” Marianne cajoled, nodding at the tray of food and tea that she’d brought earlier.
Elizabeth had only taken a sip of tea, and that was it.