She pulled off the ring, crossed the room, and placed it on the table beside the bed, then turned to leave.
And prayed her husband would understand exactly what that meant.
Chapter 19
“Jocelyn!”
Rand slammed open the door of his townhouse and strode into the entry hall. It had been three full days since he’d left and the thought of what he might find at home terrified him as much as anything in war ever had.
“Jocelyn!” Richard called, close on Rand’s heels.
A heavy knot had lain in the pit of Rand’s stomach since he’d arrived at Worthington Castle the day before yesterday and discovered there was nothing amiss at all. Nigel was well, Richard had sent no note, and something was very, very wrong.
Rand strode to the foot of the stairs and struggled to keep a note of panic from his voice. “Jocelyn!”
“My lord.” Chesney appeared in the hall.
“Chesney,” Rand barked. “Where is Lady Beaumont?”
Confusion colored Chesney’s face. “She is not with you, my lord?”
“Does it look like she’s with me?” Rand snapped.
Richard laid a hand on his arm. “Rand.”
Rand drew a calming breath. “Forgive me, Chesney. Now.” He struggled to control his voice. “Explain what you meant.”
“Lady Beaumont left soon after you did. We thought”—the butler drew his brows together— “rather we assumed, given her comments, or lack of them, she was following you.”
“She’s been gone for three days then,” Rand said slowly.
Chesney stepped to a side table and opened the drawer, pulling out a folded paper and something else Rand didn’t see. The butler returned to face Rand and handed him the note. “This arrived for you shortly after her departure.”
Rand stared at the paper in his hand but couldn’t bring himself to open it.
“And ...” Chesney hesitated. “The maids found this in your room after she’d gone.” He held out Jocelyn’s ring. “We thought she’d left it behind simply for purposes of safety in travel.”
Rand took the ring numbly. It was cold and heavy in his hand. For the first time in his life he didn’t know what to do. His faculties had shut down. His mind no longer functioned. His heart barely beat. Dimly, in the back of his head, he noted he’d seen cases like this before. Men too thoroughly shocked to do anything more than stare. He’d never imagined anything would produce that effect in him.
Jocelyn was gone?
“Chesney,” Richard said quietly. “I daresay we could use some brandy.”
“It’s in here, Richard,” Rand responded without thinking and walked into the parlor, sinking into the nearest chair.
Jocelyn had left him?
Richard murmured something to Chesney, and a moment later the butler placed a large glass of brandy on the table beside Rand.
“Aren’t you going to read it?” Richard said gently.
“Yes, of course.” Rand unfolded the note. The single line seemed to swim before his eyes.
I have gone to Avalonia with Alexei.
Jocelyn
“What does it say?” Richard asked.
Rand held it out to him wordlessly.
Richard took the paper, read it, and blew a long breath. “Bloody hell. I am sorry.”
Rand stared unseeing at the ring in his hand. He vaguely heard the murmur of voices in the hall and scarcely noted Richard leaving the room.
Had she decided Alexei was the man she wanted after all? Was she going to accept his offer of annulment? Was everything between his wife and him a lie?
“I don’t believe it for a moment.” The new Lady Helmsley, Marianne, marched into the room, followed by her husband and her brother, Richard. She halted in front of Rand’s chair and glared down at him. “How could you think such a thing?”
“Come now, Marianne.” Richard blew a long breath. “As much as I hate to say this, all her life Jocelyn has been determined to marry well. A prince is what she’s always wanted and—”
Marianne whirled to face him. “You, dear brother, have not been around for the past year, and can scarcely say what Jocelyn wants and doesn’t want!”
“Well, she was prepared to marry that annoying prince in the first place. Wanted to, in fact,” Thomas pointed out. “I knew he was not to be trusted.”
Marianne turned on him. “That certainly does little good now!”
“You wouldn’t listen to me before,” Thomas said indignantly. He strode to the brandy decanter, poured himself a glass, and turned to Richard. “None of your sisters would listen to me about anything. Each and every one is stubborn and opinionated.”
Richard snorted. “Welcome to my life.”
Someone thrust the glass of brandy into Rand’s hand and he drank it absently.
“No!” Marianne glared at her brother. “If Jocelyn wanted to leave Beaumont, she would never do it like this. She would never sneak off leaving nothing more than a note. If she was going to do something so scandalous and, mind you, she, above any of us, has always been aware of the rules of proper behavior—”
The comments and accusations whirled around him and he could hardly hear the words through the roar of blood in his ears and the twisting pain in his heart.
“That’s true enough,” Richard muttered. “But if she was—”
“Let me finish, Richard,” Marianne snapped.
“What have you done to her?” Richard said in an aside to Thomas.
Thomas shrugged. “Don’t blame me. She was like this when you left her and charged me with her protection. It’s those blasted books she’s always reading. Damned independent heroines.”
Rand stared at the ring in his hand and heard her words...
I shall never take it off.
“As I was saying, Thomas,” Marianne said through clenched teeth. “If she were to do something like this, completely destroy her reputation and ruin her life, she would do in it a spectacular way. It would be her finest moment. A scandal London would talk about for years. Jocelyn has always delighted in being the center of attention, primarily because of her appearance—”
“She wears those spectacles now that you gave her,” Rand murmured.
“Really?” she said in surprise. “I never imagined—” She shook her head and continued her tirade. “At any rate, Jocelyn would do something quite dramatic and altogether memorable. She would not slink off in secret.”
“I’ll give you that, Marianne,” Richard said. “But still and all, you have to accept the possibility that she simply could not resist the lure of royalty and great wealth.”
“She left the ring,” Rand said slowly, hefting the bauble in his hand. “A woman interested in great wealth would not leave something so valuable behind.”
No matter how far apart we may be, know that I will always, always love you.
“She didn’t leave me,” Rand said as if waking from a dream, knowing without doubt, without question, it was the truth.
“Well, she is gone,” Thomas said apologetically.
“Marianne’s right on one count.” Rand got to his feet. “If she wanted to leave me for another man, this is not how she would do it. However”—he nodded at Marianne—“I don’t agree with your assessment of exactly how she would. From the start she has been honest with me, and if she wanted to end our relationship, she would be honest about that as well.”
He shook his head, his certainty growing with every moment. “She didn’t go with Alexei because she wanted to. I have no idea how he forced her cooperation, but I’m certain he did. The note that drew me to Worthington has his hand behind it. She would never do anything so cruel.”
“She has never been cruel,” Marianne said loftily.
“Rand.” Thomas’s gaze caught his. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not,” Rand said simply. “I trust her.” It was, he realized, a great leap of faith, but somehow he knew, as surely as he knew he would never give her up, he was
right. “Since the day we met, Jocelyn has done nothing to deserve anything less than my absolute trust and complete faith.”
“Do you think he’ll...” Marianne paused, unable to say the words.
“Hurt her?” Rand’s stomach clenched at the thought. “No.”
“However, she might hurt him,” Thomas said. “If she really didn’t want to go with him, she will be rather, well, peevish.” Thomas took a sip of his brandy. “I’ve seen her peevish before and it’s not overly pleasant.”
“Not at all.” Richard shuddered. “I don’t envy the prince, traveling across the continent with a peevish Jocelyn in tow.”
“I cannot believe the two of you.” Rand looked from one man to the other in disbelief. “This is my wife you’re talking about.”
“Come now, Rand,” Richard chided. “Don’t tell us you’ve never seen her peevish.”
“On occasion.” Rand glared. “But usually with just cause.”
“I’d call this just cause.” Thomas nudged Richard with his elbow. “She’s more or less been kidnapped.”
“She has been kidnapped,” Rand said.
“God save the prince,” Richard said under his breath.
“Stop it at once,” Marianne ordered. “There are far more important things to discuss than the state of Jocelyn’s temperament.”
She stepped to her husband, plucked his glass from his hand and drew a long swallow, then turned to Rand. “Now, it seems to me the real question, if indeed she is not with him of her own accord, is why the prince would want to take Jocelyn—”
“A peevish Jocelyn.” Richard raised his glass.
“—with him?” Marianne studied each man in turn. “Well?”
“She’s pretty?” Thomas said helpfully.
“No. That can’t be it.” Richard furrowed his brow.
“After all, the man’s a prince. He has his own country, a significant fortune—”
“No doubt with his own portrait on the money,” Thomas murmured.
“—and beautiful women probably fall at his feet. No.” Richard shook his head. “He would have no need to go to this much trouble. Dragging a peevish,”—he glanced at his sister—“or rather a reluctant Jocelyn across half of Europe.”
Marianne took a thoughtful sip. “He’d have to realize you’d go after her.”
“Of course I’d go after her. I’d never ... That’s it.” Rand smacked his palm against his forehead. “He doesn’t want her. He wants me.”
Richard smirked. “It was the dress, wasn’t it? It did complement your eyes.”
“What dress?” Thomas looked from Richard to Rand. “And whatever are you talking about?”
“The dress is of no importance.” Rand waved off the question. “What is significant is the current state of affairs in Avalonia. Alexei is embroiled in the type of political turmoil that has plagued his country throughout its existence, brought on primarily by fighting for power within the royal family. It’s possible he thinks with me by his side, he can quell the unrest peacefully, with a symbolic show of family unity. He did mention something along those lines.”
Thomas frowned skeptically. “Why would he want you?”
“Rand is a prince,” Richard said in the smug manner of someone who knows a secret no one else does. “A real prince. Alexei’s cousin. Jocelyn married her prince after all.”
“Aunt Louella will love the irony,” Marianne murmured, a stunned look on her face.
Thomas’s mouth dropped open. “You never told me.”
“You never asked,” Rand said firmly.
“It never came up in casual conversation.” Thomas glared at his friend.
“I don’t consider it important, Thomas, I never have.” He studied his friend. “I’m certain there are things about yourself you’ve never mentioned to me.”
“No. Nothing,” Thomas said, his manner disgruntled.
“Really.” Rand raised a brow. “Until recently, I never knew you wrote poetry.”
“Well, that’s entirely dif—” Thomas started.
“His poetry is very bad.” Richard said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t mention it either if I were he.”
“Well, you ... you ... you paint!” Thomas glared at Richard.
“Yes.” Richard grinned. “But I am very good.”
“You two sound like children,” Marianne said with a sigh and drained the rest of Thomas’s brandy. “And I’ve had quite enough.”
“And I do not have time for such nonsense.” Rand bowed toward Marianne. “Lady Helmsley.” He nodded at the men. “Gentlemen, I am off to recover my wife.”
“She is my sister.” Richard stepped forward. “I’m going with you.”
“I’m going too,” Thomas said quickly. “She was under my protection when all this began.”
Richard narrowed his eyes. “You have a new wife to take care of.”
“And you have a new daughter.” Thomas returned his brother-in-law’s stare.
“Oh go, both of you.” Marianne huffed. “You obviously see it as some kind of grand adventure. If you don’t go, neither of you will be of any use here whatsoever.”
“I warn you, however.” Rand’s voice brooked no nonsense. “This is not a game.”
“Of course not,” Richard said indignantly. “My sister’s life may well be at stake.”
“I certainly didn’t think it was a game.” Thomas huffed. “I have already been shot at, remember?”
“We’ll leave at once.” Rand turned toward the door.
“You most certainly will not.” Marianne shook her head firmly. “You’ll leave in the morning. You and Richard are both obviously exhausted. You’re bound to have some sort of mishap in your condition. My lord.” She laid a hand on Rand’s arm and met his gaze. “Rand. You will travel much faster if you are rested. It will do Jocelyn no good if you do not arrive safely.”
“Very well then.” He could scarcely argue with her. He’d been traveling in one manner or another for nearly a week now and he was, in truth, close to exhaustion.
“Besides.” Thomas drew his brows together thoughtfully. “We can’t just go off without due consideration. We need a plan.”
Marianne rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
“He’s right.” Richard nodded, obviously forgetting that Thomas’s plans were notorious for being rarely successful.
“Thank you,” Thomas said with satisfaction. “First of all, I think ...”
The conversation eddied about him but aside from an occasional nod or offhand muttering, Rand paid little notice. His own thoughts demanded attention.
He was determined to trust her. Determined to disregard any semblance of doubt. He suspected he would go mad otherwise. He hadn’t completely trusted anyone for a long time and he’d never loved before.
Even so, it was difficult to ignore the unanswered questions preying on his mind. Jocelyn’s departure was obviously planned; her behavior on their last night and morning together clearly indicated that.
There was no struggle involved, nothing amiss, according to Chesney when Jocelyn left. How had Alexei forced her to accompany him?
No matter how far apart we may be, know that I will always, always love you.
Jocelyn’s comment as well as her ring were a message to him as surely if she had written it in her own hand. A message to let him know that she did not leave willingly. That she did not betray him with another man. That she loved him. Of that he was certain.
He’d promised to slay dragons for her and climb mountains and catch stars. And he would no matter what the cost.
And she’d promised to do ... what for him?
Whatever I must. Had she? And at what cost? He didn’t know, wouldn’t know, until he found her. At the moment, the answers scarcely mattered.
Still, there was one question, and one question alone, he couldn’t get past.
What if he was wrong?
———
How long had she been cooped up in this blasted coach?
>
Jocelyn shifted on the leather seat and tried to find a comfortable position, which was next to impossible after four long days of confinement. At least at this point she was alone.
Until yesterday she’d shared the coach with an exceptionally nervous lady-in-waiting who Jocelyn couldn’t help but think of, if only to herself, as Lady Insipid. The woman was assigned to accompany her, probably to give a semblance of propriety to what Jocelyn had decided was nothing less than kidnapping.
Hers was one of three coaches escorted by half a dozen armed men on horseback in what amounted to a royal caravan. There were a few other ladies along and several gentlemen she assumed were royal advisers although she hadn’t actually met any of them. Even so, she was informed that most of the prince’s party and a substantial amount of their luggage would follow later. It was a question of speed, and indeed they scarcely ever stopped for anything other than to change horses, continuing to press onward even at night. This trip was no better than the one she’d shared with Rand and Alexei and not nearly as amusing.
Thus far Alexei had left her quite alone. She suspected his absence was partially due to that pale, frightened lady she’d been trapped with in there, who undoubtedly reported back to Alexei whenever possible that Jocelyn was not being at all pleasant.
Jocelyn snorted in disdain. Pleasant was not part of the arrangement. Besides, she’d never done a thing to Lady Insipid. Not really. Oh, certainly she’d snapped at the cowering creature whenever she’d opened her mouth to attempt useless chatter. And there had been a bit of a rant on Jocelyn’s part when the other woman mentioned offhandedly how kind and generous Alexei was. And there was that one moment when Jocelyn could take no more of her insistent attempts at conversation and had tried to throw her bodily out of the carriage. For goodness sakes, they weren’t moving all that fast and the lady probably would have suffered no more than a few bruises if she’d rolled when she hit the ground. Still, Jocelyn did give her credit for being surprisingly strong and rather agile as well for such a weak-willed little thing.
Jocelyn blew a long breath and gazed out the window, trying, as she had so often since leaving London, to see the road behind them. To catch any sight of a lone pursuing rider silhouetted against the setting sun. So far she’d seen nothing of any significance. She refused to consider the possibility that Rand would not come after her. He loved her and trusted her and he would not fail her. Still, ignoring the doubts that plagued her when she least expected them was not easy.
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