He loved her.
Of course he did. He could not live another day without hearing her laugh again, without tasting her lips. Without being worthy of her.
He staggered toward the exit, hand clutched to his side. He would not die here tonight. No. Not when there was so much left to say.
He had a wife to return to.
A life to reclaim.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Ineed to see Elizabeth,” he called hoarsely, leaning against the door to the Grisham London townhouse.
Alasdair knocked. He knocked hard, even though everything hurt.
It felt like forever, him trying to get into the house to see her. But it might just be the pain that made time stretch before him.
Finally, the butler opened it. He turned pale as soon as he saw the state Alasdair was in.
“Please. I need to see Elizabeth. I think me wife is here.”
The servant only hesitated a moment. Then, he let him in.
“Your Grace, please come to the parlor. I will ask someone to attend to you. Have you not seen a physician?” the butler asked politely.
“I need to see Elizabeth,” he insisted, even though he could not straighten himself to his full height.
The butler hastily turned around, and Alasdair wondered if he was on the way to get some help or find Elizabeth. He was not insane. He knew he needed both, but the latter seemed more urgent at the moment.
“Well, then,” someone called out from the dark corner of the parlor.
Alasdair turned to see Lady Grisham sipping tea and looking particularly smug. She had raised an eyebrow at him.
“Good evenin’, Lady Grisham,” he greeted even as he grimaced from the pain.
“Well, it seems that even ruined men do crawl back to what they’d abandoned,” she rasped, sneering at him.
Bloodied and hastily bandaged, Alasdair met the older woman’s gaze without flinching.
“I have nothing to be ashamed of before ye, Lady Grisham. But I canna say the same for Elizabeth. I’ve done her wrong. Yet, whenI think on it, it’s you who’s truly shameful in this house. Ye and your cruelty. Elizabeth deserves better.”
“How noble,” she mocked, as she rose to her feet. “Let’s be honest with each other. I know your kind. Elizabeth might be a beautiful girl, but she’d be nothing but a passing fancy for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” repeated Alasdair incredulously, pointing at himself. “Lady Grisham, ye daenae ken me, and ye certainly do ken me feelings for yer stepdaughter. Aye, I doubt ye ken anything about feelings at all.”
Her lips parted to retort, but then?—
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Elizabeth entered the parlor with Wilhelmina beside her. She halted when she saw him, and the color drained from her face.
“Alasdair?” she breathed, hand flying to her chest.
Did no one tell her I was here?Alasdair wondered.
Despite the pain, he gave her his full attention. Seeing her,finally seeing her, steadied him in a way nothing else could. The only reason he was still on his feet was the thought of reaching her. Of making things right.
Elizabeth crossed the room in seconds. Her right hand trembled as it hovered near the bruises on his face. He must have looked half-dead.