Free Divine by Nichole van

Hope. Hope.
    How long could he cling to the tiniest scraps of her?
    “Is there any clue, anything at all, in the late Mr. James Knight’s papers to indicate where he might have taken Miss Knight?”
    “No,” Arthur said, curtly. Perhaps too curtly. He was obviously still hiding something. “There is nothing, no help for it. Trust me, I have exhausted every avenue. It seems that our only option is to wait and hope.”
    Sebastian let out a shaky breath at the word again.
    Hope .
    He had nourished that beggar for so long. But with so little to sustain it and time running short, he wondered how long hope could last.
     

     
    The estate grounds
    Haldon Manor
    August 27, 1813
    Birthday in minus 43 days
     
    Four days later and Sebastian needed to make a decision.
    Arthur had provided no further information and seemed decidedly despondent over the situation. As her brother, he wanted to believe Georgiana was alive but had little hope of it.
    Today Sebastian had stolen out alone for an early morning ride across Haldon Manor’s fields. Should he wait here for another day or two, just to see if he could glean any more information?
    With sinking heart, Sebastian recognized there was most likely no more information to be had. The logical course would be to admit defeat and give up Georgiana for good. After so long, why wouldn’t she have contacted her brother if she were still alive?
    He had discussed options endlessly with Phillips the night before. Phillips was of the opinion that they should wait. There was time yet, and did Sebastian want to marry someone who wasn’t Georgiana?
    The answer to that was an emphatic no . She was the only woman he had ever wanted.
    But . . .
    The earldom was in need of those funds. And it was hardly sensible to endanger the livelihood of thousands because his heart ached for a woman who may or may not be alive. There was a greater good to consider here.
    He should probably just return to London and get on with finding himself a suitable bride. It was a dreadful prospect, but better to choose a bride himself than allow meddling women to do it for him.
    It had been a lovely reprieve to be tucked away at Haldon Manor, but any day now Sebastian anticipated women like Lady Michael and Lady Ambrosia to catch up with him. Somehow, despite all his efforts, they always managed to find him. As he rode, Sebastian kept glancing around, half-expecting women to come bursting from the trees at any minute.
    Which really put a damper on everything, as it was one of those rare summer days when all of England broke free of its regular gloom and burst out in glorious sun. Sunlit mist still swirled lightly on the ground, and the golden morning light turned lingering dew drops into a thousand dancing gems.
    Making the world fairy-kissed.
    Normally, Sebastian would have stopped to revel in the sheer unabashed exuberance of it all. Nature at her most unapologetic.
    He imagined Georgiana here as a girl, riding across these fields, gathering wildflowers in this meadow, just as she had in the meadow near Lyndenbrooke. He could almost hear her bright laughter.
    Forget-me-not.
    The ache in his chest burned with each breath. In and out.
    Would he ever be free of this obsession with her?
    Sebastian cut through the woodlands, passing the shuttered-up dower house—Duir Cottage according to the plaque beside the front door—and then continued out over the fields, turning back toward the gabled roof of Haldon Manor.
    Trying somehow to come to grips with saying goodbye to her. To chasing away all the hopes and dreams he had built.
    To reconstruct a world without Georgiana Knight in it.
    The prospect felt . . . overwhelming. Like severing a limb.
    Gah! He was becoming maudlin.
    Shaking his head to clear his increasingly morose meanderings, Sebastian topped a small rise.
    Lifted his head into the rising sun.
    And saw her .
    Standing like an apparition in the dissipating mist. Facing away from him. Golden hair a mass of curls pinned