What could she do now? If she moved in any direction, it could be leading farther from home. If she stayed put, she’d make no progress at all. The day was brisk, and her habit was warm, but even that would not stop her from growing chilled if she were out here for ages.

How long would it take Basset to consider her lost? Or would he think she had run away? She’d certainly given him enough reason to suspect that, and with what she had confessed about Phillip…

She scoffed to herself, not bothering to keep the sound delicate when there wasn’t a soul for miles. Letting go of Phillip was proving necessary, but it was rather akin to letting go of dreams and childhood, of imagination and fancy. Yet none of those particular things reminded her of Phillip. He was all charm and flirtation, a ticklish version of romance that had brightened the dull and vapid life she had been living, but nothing he had stirred in her could compare with what she had experienced in the nights she shared with Basset.

But was that innate in the act alone? Or was Basset a factor himself?

She could barely stand the man, could be driven mad by his adept provocation, and yet sigh dreamily in contentment while wrapped in his arms those few moments before he left her bed.

There was something of that man in the eyes of the one she saw by day, but his reserve kept her at a distance. As did her own walls she’d built up in response to the raw vulnerability only he had ever seen in her. They had shared so much and yet so little, and every step felt a little less certain with him.

What a wretched, confusing beginning they had made of this marriage.

What a state she found herself in now.

Adelaide exhaled noisily to herself and took a moment to turn slowly about, looking in every direction for any sign of promise, any instinct of home, any possible course she might take.

Everything looked exactly the same: green, lush, rocky, and empty.

Cornwall was beautiful. And she was lost in it.

She was not one to weep, but this seemed like a moment one might do so. But until she had truly given up hope, she could not let herself lean entirely into despair. After all, it was entirely possible that she would stumble upon the correct path and manage to navigate the terrain sufficiently. It would not garner her any accolades with her husband, but it would at least show her stamina and resourcefulness, which surely must be admired when one lived in a remote place like Cornwall.