If a countess howling his name like a battle cry at a coaching inn caused a scandal, so be it. If they hauled her off to Newgate for jabbing interferers with a pin—well, this seemed unlikely. But wasn’t it convenient that she knew how to manage that, too?
Only one thing mattered.
She would shout down the walls of Jericho if that’s what it took to find him.
“MAGNUS!” She whirled. Why wasn’t shetaller? She wanted to be taller. The wind tugged her bonnet from her head. But this time her ribbons were secure.
And then it occurred to her: if she didn’t see him, he must already be aboard the coach.
And perhaps he was sitting inside, this man who had waited all of his life to bewanted, his heart shattered, believing she hadn’t come for him.
A cold horror gripped her.
She spun and elbowed her way through outraged people to get closer to the carriage. An employee of the inn was crouching to do a final inspection of the wheels.
“Excuse me, sir—I need to see whether my husband is aboard.”
“They all say that, madam. Where is your pass?”
“Well, I haven’t a pass for Rossington Station—”
“Then we can’t let you on the coach to look,” he said maddeningly reasonably.
“If you could just ask—”
“We have a schedule, madam.” He sounded nervous now. His eyes cut to a few red-coated soldiers standing on the perimeter. “Please step back.” He stood and spread out his arms as if to shield the carriage from her advances.
She was very close to panicking now. What if she was wrong after all? What if he’d sent her here so he could safely depart from another coachinginn? What if he’d never made it here at all because a slow cart had halted his progress?
She staggered back when someone jostled her roughly.
She righted herself and saw a rare clearing about the size of one person in the thicket of people. She instinctively plunged into it and pulled in another breath for another shout, her voice frayed now.“MAG...”
And suddenly, there he stood.
Everyone milling about, of course, cleared the way for him and the madwoman who’d been so desperate to find him.
He was an island in a gently heaving human sea.
She feasted her eyes. Held fast by a sort of beautiful terror and exultation. She pressed her knuckles against her lips to stifle a sob of relief.
He didn’t look surprised to see her. He was, however, as radiant as a lamp.
He paced to her at once and, without preamble, gently collected her with one arm and pulled her into his body. He wrapped both arms around her, enfolding her completely, andoh, thank God, this was home. Here in his arms.
He merely held her tightly a moment. One of his hands fanned the back of her head.
She curled her fingers into his shirt and clung. She could feel the relief in him as he released a huge breath.
“I wanted you to be able to choose,” he murmured into her hair.
“I know,” she replied. “So I chose. I choose you.”
She knew, too, that he’d wanted desperately to be chosen.
For a moment she just savored the feel of him breathing.
“Magnus?”