Lord of Regrets Read Online Free PDF

the path, slush over frozen earth, toward the water. Crepuscular creatures scurried in the winter-bare brush that edged the way. With the early dark of winter, it felt far later than it was.
    He reached the cliff’s edge just as the sky turned to steel and the water shimmered in the diffused light of the full moon. That moon, tucked as it was behind swift-moving clouds, was not visible, but still, Marcus felt like howling.
    He’d been single-minded in his desire ever since he’d left London. He’d known it wouldn’t be easy.
    He led Juniper south, till he reached a passable way down to the beach. They picked their way over rocks and roots, over vegetation that clung in dark, sinister shapes to the cliff. When he reached the sand, the roaring of the North Sea echoing his thoughts, he let Juniper have his head and flew.
    Different. Natasha was different now; he knew that. She’d had to survive on her own, create a new identity and a new life. Yet those changes were merely the delicate hewing of life––the marble a sculptor chisels away to create a masterpiece, the platonic ideal waiting to be discovered. Just as he had loved her five years ago, he would love this more pure version of Natasha.
    Marcus had changed in five years as well. Heels driving Juniper on, wind biting at his cheeks, he clung to that thought. He knew what he wanted and he went after it. He let no one stand in his way. He was no longer the coward who lived in his grandfather’s pocket.
    …
    Natasha spent the afternoon and evening wondering if Marcus would come despite her demand that he not. It would be so like him to ignore her wishes, to force his will and impose upon her. However, she was older, stronger. She was not the same foolish girl who had fallen prey to his sweet words and sweeter caresses.
    With Mary gone for the night and Leona safely asleep, Natasha lay in her own bed, staring into the dark. Here, alone, she could admit to herself that the touch of his hand in the church had scared her. Even separated by the thin layer of her glove, it had carried intoxicating memories.
    And with Leona on her other side, they were almost like any other family attending church. Only, they weren’t. And the conversation on the way home from church had made it very clear. As her cottage was en route to the vicarage, Mr. Duncan had driven them home in his carriage.
    “Lord Templeton’s arrival seems to have upset you,” he’d said, and she had shied away from his probing words.
    She had known this moment would come. Mr. Duncan would never ask her bluntly what Marcus was to her, but he would want to know.
    “Yes. Yes, it has,” she had admitted.
    “Forgive me, Natasha, it isn’t my place, but as your reverend—” He’d broken off, shaking his head. “No, as someone who places your happiness in esteem, if you wish to confide… If I may be of assistance.”
    “Mr. Duncan, please.” The lie had swelled in her chest but she forced herself to think of it as if it were the truth. “I knew Lord Templeton before…” That was the truth. That she could say, awkwardly phrased as it was, with no guile. “But he was not a friend to me when I found myself alone and in a delicate condition.”
    When Mr. Duncan’s face had darkened in anger, she had realized what he assumed. If only that had been it, but Marcus had threatened so much worse. Would he have gone through with it? She wondered for the millionth time if she could have reasoned with him. If there had been another way.
    “What happens when we die?” Leona had interrupted then. She had been tucked between them, playing with the decorative tassels on her mittens, and Natasha had wondered what her daughter thought.
    “Well, when a human dies, he or she goes to heaven,” Mr. Duncan had answered. “If the person has been good.”
    “But do they keep their memory? Or do they forget?”
    Leona’s insatiable curiosity, her constant barrage of questions, seemed to be even greater whenever the