Chapter 17: The Letter in Her Hand

Alaric's POV

I woke in the chair at half past twelve, and the lamp had burned low.

The door to the bedroom stood open.

On the pillow there was a folded sheet with my name on it.

I read it standing, in her hand, down to the long bar on her t's.

I am sorry. I went to Edmund tonight. He was right about me.

It was signed Linet, with one n.

I saw that at once.

I had watched her sign the marriage lines and the deed.

She had left a dozen small notes on my desk, and she had never once got her own name wrong.

I knew what it meant.

I put the paper down on the bed and stood looking at it.

Then I told myself I was a fool for hoping.

That was the whole of it.

I had spent a year knowing she did not want me, and a few days thinking she might.

My mind went straight back to the old answer.

I asked the guardsman, in the passage, where my wife was.

"Gone out alone a little before midnight, Your Grace. In a grey cloak."

"Which way?"

"The east stair."

The east stair led to the chancellor's wing, and to the garden door, and to the road.

I did not ask which.

I took my coat and my boots and walked down into the dark garden.

I stood there until my hands were numb.

My grandmother found me at two, in a shawl and a nightcap, with Wynne holding a lantern behind her.

"Your door was open," she said. "The girl says the duchess went out."

"She has gone to Rook."

"Has she." Maud held out her hand. "Give me the paper."

I gave it to her.

She held it to the lantern for a long time.

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