Page 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“ E velyn…”

His voice rang out, firm yet breathless, from the doorway.

She froze. The book in her hands slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor with a soft thud. When she turned, her eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, Robert could hardly breathe. She had never looked more beautiful.

A simple gown hugged her frame, and the light from the tall windows fell upon her like a benediction. Her hair was half-pinned, a few curls falling around her cheeks, flushed with shock. And in her eyes, he could see all the pain, surprise, and something he dared to hope was still love.

“I… may I have a moment?” he asked hoarsely with his eyes flicking briefly to the others in the room.

Cordelia’s mouth was slightly open in delight, and Hazel raised one stern brow at him before nodding. Matilda hesitated a moment longer, studying her sister, then silently tugged Cordelia and Hazel with her toward the adjoining room.

And then, it was only the two of them.

Robert stepped forward, slowly, like a man approaching something sacred. He wanted to ask her why she left without a word. He wanted to rage, to demand, to confess, but everything tangled together until he no longer knew where to begin. His heart thundered against his ribs.

“I…” His voice caught. He stopped in front of her, eyes searching hers. “I don’t know if I should ask why you left or tell you that I love you first.”

Evelyn blinked rapidly, her lips parted and trembling. So, he chose the truth.

“I love you,” he said, allowing his voice to reveal everything he was feeling at that moment.

“I don’t think I knew what love was before you.

Not truly. I didn’t believe in it, not after what happened to my family.

I lived in darkness for so long, Evelyn.

Revenge became my purpose, silence my companion.

I thought… I thought if I opened myself to anyone again, it would destroy me. That I would lose them, too.”

He took her hands, gently, reverently, as though they were made of porcelain.

“But you…” he continued, his voice faltering with the weight of everything he had never said, “you taught me to see the world with different eyes. You taught me warmth. You made me laugh again. You challenged me. You saw me, and you didn’t look away.”

Her eyes glistened though she remained still.

“I don’t want a life without you,” he said as his fingers tightened slightly around hers.

“Not one governed by fear or ghosts or what-ifs. I want a life with you. Whatever it looks like. Whatever you’ll allow me to give.

You said once you didn’t want to be controlled, and I swear to you, I never will. But I had to come. I had to tell you.”

He stepped back then, chest heaving slightly. His eyes burned, his heart thundered, but his voice remained quiet.

“I love you, Evelyn. I think I always have.”

And then, he waited. He waited even as the silence stretched between them, delicate and taut like spun glass. Robert watched her, his every breath a prayer, his every heartbeat thudding with the fear that he had come too late.

Evelyn’s eyes shimmered. Her hands trembled in his, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she reached up slowly, fingers grazing his jaw, her touch feather-light, as if confirming he was real.

“You love me,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

He nodded, not trusting his voice now that the words were out, bare and honest, beyond the armor he had always worn. Evelyn gave a soft, broken laugh, then a tear slid down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away.

“I told myself,” she said, voice wavering, “that you didn’t say anything because you didn’t feel it. That our arrangement had simply run its course. That it was over.”

“It was never just an arrangement to me,” Robert said at once, stepping closer. “Not after I met you. Not after I came to know you. It began that way, yes, but somewhere along the way, it became everything.”

Evelyn’s lip trembled again. “I left because I couldn’t bear to hear you say goodbye. Because if you didn’t love me, I… I couldn’t pretend to be indifferent. And I didn’t want to become someone who begged for scraps of affection.”

His hands came to cradle her face, and his forehead dropped to hers.

“You were never a scrap,” he said fiercely. “You are everything. The air I breathe. The future I didn’t think I could have. I was a fool not to say it sooner. I was afraid… but not anymore.”

He kissed her then, so very gently and reverently. Not out of passion but out of promise. His lips lingered on hers, as if sealing a vow he would never again be too proud or too broken to make. When they parted, Evelyn looked up at him, her tears now freely falling, but her smile radiant.

“You’re an idiot,” she whispered.

He grinned, relief washing through him like sunlight breaking through a storm. “You know, that is exactly what Mason told me.”

“Clever man,” Evelyn laughed and then pulled him into a fierce embrace, burying her face into his shoulder. He held her close, never wanting to let go.

From the other room, faint gasps and giggles could be heard. Cordelia’s voice carried, not very quietly, “Well, it’s about time.”

Hazel added dryly, “Indeed. I was beginning to wonder if I should lock them in a room together.”

Evelyn gave a muffled laugh into Robert’s cravat. He smiled, kissed the top of her head, and whispered against her hair, “Shall we go tell them I’ve ruined your elegant townhouse with declarations of love?”

She looked up at him, eyes gleaming. “Yes. But I think they already know.”

That was when the girl trio erupted back into the drawing room.

“There they are!” Cordelia squealed, clapping her hands and nearly bouncing on her heels. “Took you long enough!”

“I was starting to think we’d have to draw up another contract for you two,” Hazel said dryly though her eyes were warm with amusement.

Matilda pressed her hands to her chest, eyes misty. “Oh, thank heavens. I was so afraid…”

Robert barely had time to register the explosion of movement before Cordelia rushed forward and threw her arms around both him and Evelyn in an enthusiastic, if slightly chaotic, embrace.

“Careful,” Evelyn laughed, half-laughing, half-sputtering against Cordelia’s shoulder.

“Careful, my foot,” Cordelia said, pulling back just enough to grin up at Robert. “Do you know how unbearable she’s been since yesterday? Brooding and noble and packing all her things like a tragic heroine. We were about a minute away from writing to the theater to get her cast in a drama.”

“She’s exaggerating,” Evelyn objected, her cheeks taking on a pink hue.

“Only slightly,” Hazel added with a smirk, setting down a tray of newly poured tea she had somehow wrangled back into the room. “Though I must say, Your Grace, if you had any intention of showing up heroically, you chose the perfect moment to end this story with a happily ever after.”

“I try,” he said, smiling softly at Evelyn. Then, glancing back at the women with mock gravity, he added, “Though I must make a correction to your assumption.”

The room fell briefly still. They looked at him expectantly.

“This,” he said, gesturing gently between himself and Evelyn, “is not our happily ever after. Not yet.”

Cordelia gasped theatrically. “What?!”

Robert chuckled. “It’s only the beginning.”

There was a beat of silence before Matilda let out a small, delighted laugh, and Cordelia groaned, “Oh, now you’re going to be one of those romantic husbands. This is unbearable.”

“Let them be romantic,” Hazel said firmly though her mouth twitched. “They’ve earned it.”

Evelyn leaned into Robert’s side, her fingers threading through his. He glanced down at her and found her already looking up at him.

“Besides,” Evelyn said, “I quite like being at the beginning of something.”

Robert bent and kissed her forehead, murmuring, “So do I.”

Cordelia made a gagging sound, Hazel rolled her eyes fondly, and Matilda just beamed.

Robert looked around the little drawing room with the soft afternoon light warming the edges of the rugs and drapes, the scent of tea and rain still clinging faintly to the air, the company of the women who had become, in their own way, part of his life too.

That was when he thought, for the first time in years, that perhaps he had come home, not to a place but to her.

Matilda’s voice, gentle but edged with urgency, broke through the swell of laughter.

“Your Grace,” she said, stepping forward slightly, her smile faltering into something more solemn. “What happened with Laurence?”

The room quieted. Evelyn stiffened slightly beside him, her hand tightening in his. Cordelia and Hazel exchanged glances but said nothing, sensing the shift.

Robert met Matilda’s eyes. He saw the tension in her shoulders, the way she braced herself not just for the answer but for whatever storm might follow it.

“He’s in custody,” Robert said evenly. “The constables arrested him this morning.”

Matilda let out a soft breath and with it, a tremble.

“I gave them everything you told me, and they’ve taken possession of his study. The documents and letters you mentioned will be evidence enough to ensure the case stands. Once they begin sorting through the records, the scale of his schemes will become clear.”

“Will he… will he go to trial?” Matilda asked.

“Yes,” Robert said. “And he’ll answer for every one of his crimes, fraud, conspiracy, attempted murder.” His voice dipped, darker now. “And the deaths of my family.”

A silence settled over the room, heavy but not oppressive. Just the kind that followed the naming of something long buried and now unearthed.

Matilda slowly sank onto one of the chairs, her shoulders sagging as though she had been holding herself upright through sheer force of will.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” she whispered.

“It’s not over yet,” Robert said, softer now. “But it’s begun. Justice is moving now, and this time, no bribes or influence will stop it.”

She nodded, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Thank you. I didn’t think anyone would ever believe me. Not fully.”

“I did,” Robert said simply. “You brought the truth. And you gave me the choice I never thought I’d have—what to do with it.”

He felt Evelyn’s hand reach for his again. He glanced at her and saw the faint shimmer in her eyes as she gazed at her sister, the bond between them restored and healing.

Matilda gave a small, broken laugh. “And here I thought I’d be scorned and cast out.”

Cordelia, never one for stillness, flopped beside her dramatically. “You’ll only be cast out if you don’t help us finish packing Evelyn’s absurd number of books again.”

Hazel sighed. “Truly, they are heavier than the furniture.”

Even Matilda laughed, the tension breaking like sunlight through clouds. Robert let the sound wash over him, grounding him.

Matilda turned toward him, leaning in just enough, so he could hear her quiet murmur, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Robert, please,” he smiled. “But this is all because of you and your bravery to speak up.”

“Yes,” Evelyn smiled somehow sadly. “You didn’t give up, even after I turned my back on you.”

Matilda pressed her hand to her chest. “How could I give up on those I love the most?”

Evelyn wrapped her arms around her sister, and everyone gave them a moment. Though the past still lingered like a shadow at the edge of the room, Robert felt that finally, a bright future was unfurling before them, and they would be finally together, finally true.