Chapter Nineteen
Drew left London a little over three days ago. The weather had been fair in the capital and for most of his journey, but they’d headed into heavy rain with just under three hours until they would reach Derbyshire. With nothing else to do except be alone with his thoughts, he’d willed himself to relax as he reclined on one of the benches, while Barton lounged on the other.
Sleep wouldn’t come, for despite the need to arrive home, a sense of renewal and peace coursed through him. After reading that letter from his father, everything in his life had turned on its head. The whole of his thoughts had changed direction. Knowing that his father had struggled with the same issues that Drew did took his anxiety by a stranglehold. No longer did he think these problems he dealt with were unique to his situation.
Every peer went through the same.
The clarification that he needn’t be solely responsible for the lives of his brothers had taken considerable pressure off his shoulders. Why couldn’t he see it earlier when Sarah had spoken to him? It didn’t matter, for it was there now, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a difference those written words had made.
Father was proud of me the whole time, but because he’d never been taught to show his emotions, he couldn’t tell me.
He continued to marvel at the knowledge. Even more stunning was the fact that Finn would come out all right—without his help or his orders. Somehow, his brother had found the secret to living a somewhat balanced life—he hoped—which meant Drew needn’t feel anxious regarding the future.
No doubt Brand would discover the same, for at the heart of the matter, they three were Stormes, and like their namesakes, they didn’t back down in the face of adversity. Both his brothers would find their way without his inept interference. And if fate were kind, all three of them would stumble upon happiness and peace.
After everything.
Another piece of anxiety’s shell fell away from around his heart and chest. And if he were to follow in his father’s footsteps, he would risk ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him. His pulse thrummed faster at the thought of his wife. She’d been there all along, waiting for him to make the realization for himself, supporting him as he’d struggled, guiding him away from everything he’d designed to hold him back. She’d stared into his soul, past all the ugliness, and found him worthy all the same.
And he couldn’t wait to tell her—show her—how much she meant, how he was changing even now, bit by bit.
The shadows of the waterlogged twilight were beginning to give way to the inky darkness of the night. He nearly pitched to the floor when his traveling coach came to an abrupt halt. Would the rain never end?
“What the devil is going on?”
Barton picked himself off the floor and resettled onto his bench. “I’m not certain.”
The faint rumble of his drivers’ voices reached his ears, but he couldn’t discern the gist of the conversation. After throwing open a door, he turned up the collar of his greatcoat and vaulted out of the equipage. “Haines, what the deuce is the issue?” He made his way toward the driver’s box and the horses with Barton following. The rain pelted him, and he realized he’d left his hat inside the coach. Well, it wouldn’t do to retrieve it now.
“Looks like the bridge is washed out and the road ahead flooded.” The man came down from the driver’s perch. “Not unusual for this area. I’ve seen it happen a few years ago.”
A shout from the second driver caught Drew’s attention. “There’s a coach on its side in the creek up the way! I can see it through the trees when I stand.” He pointed off into the distance.
Drew looked into the direction but couldn’t see anything form his vantage point. “Damn this delay,” he grumbled into the rain. “How many miles to the next bridge?”
The grizzled Haines shrugged. “Might be four if the other bridge is washed out too.”
“That’s too much time.” Drew shoved a gloved hand through his dripping hair. He wanted to reach Hadleigh Hall as soon as possible, had to beg Sarah’s forgiveness, needed to tell her—
A faint feminine scream broke through his thoughts.
Bloody hell.“That doesn’t sound good.”
His valet nodded. “Almost is reminiscent of the countess’ voice.”
“Surely not, Mr. Barton,” the driver said. “She’s safe at home.”
I’ll wager she’s not.Guilt plowed into the worry building in Drew’s chest. No doubt she’d got it into her head that he was too much of an arse to change, and she’d decided to leave him. After she promised not to. He wanted to summon anger, but for the first time in a handful of years, that emotion wasn’t available to tap into. Only cold depression slithered through his insides, for if it were true, he’d done it to himself. I deserve her retreat.
“The one way to know for certain is to investigate. Haines, Barton, you’re with me. William, take our coach to where the other is disabled. Even if it’s not my wife, the occupants in that vehicle will need aide.”
Barton snorted. “When have you become so benevolent?”
I’ve stumbled upon a new perspective.“It’s something new I’m trying.”
Not waiting to see if they both agreed to the plan, Drew bolted forward off the road. His boot soles slipped and slid over the muddy ground as he followed the swollen creek through the trees. With every footfall, his heart beat in double time. Had she truly left him? Did she not believe in him? He huffed and wiped at the rain on his face. Hell, for years he hadn’t believed in himself. She’d only known him for a month, and for that, he couldn’t blame her.
But he wanted the chance to show her he was a different man. Or trying to be.