Page 12 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

“Something did happen, didn’t it?” she asked.

He closed his eyes and sighed. The only way out at this point was through. “She did speak to me. I was unable to satisfy her.”

“How very mysterious.” She leaned forward, glancing down at the box and sealed letter on the desk. He’d left it where Elodia had placed it, untouched. Now he wished he’d hidden it in his drawer.

“What’s this?” she asked, reaching over and picking it up.

“I have no idea. Your friend left it here, even though I told her I couldn’t accept it.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Would you take it back to her?”

A’wei glanced up at him from the box she held in her hands. “She left it here for you?”

“Yes, but I asked her to take it back.”

“And what did she say to that?”

“She said,” he paused, wondering if it was better left private. Those words had stayed in his mind. It’s already yours. Some part of him already imagined she had been speaking about more than whatever was in that box. He didn’t want to think about that.

“What did she say?” Ada asked again.

“She said it was ‘already mine’.”

A’wei blinked for a moment, then lowered her eyes, staring at it with too much interest. “I think you should open it.” Her voice was soft but certain.

“A’wei.”

She stood and walked around the desk before handing it to him. “If I am correct in my guess, you will regret leaving it here.”

He let out an irritated sigh and snatched it from her, pulling impatiently at the twine and brown paper to reveal a small leather covered box. A queer feeling took up residence inside his gut as his throat went dry. Terrifying hope bloomed in his mind.

Was it? Maybe… Somehow, was this that thing… that thing he’d spent the better part of a year trying to let go of. He clenched his jaw and opened the lid. Immediately his hand came up to cover his trembling mouth as his eyes began to burn with tears.

There, nestled against the black velvet, as perfect as the day he had been given it over a decade ago, was his father’s pocket watch.

Somehow she’d found it. All the time he’d spent torturing himself with the idea of some asshole throwing it into the Thames, she had been keeping it safe for him.

Tears flooded his vision as he removed it from the case, his shaking fingers tracing the golden cranes dancing against the silver background.

The mother of pearl moon. He opened it to see his father’s initials engraved within. T.A.T. Thomas Alexander Thornfield.

Fùqīn , the word was a broken whisper in his mind.

He still remembered the pride and excitement he’d felt the day his father had passed it on to him.

It had been the last thing he’d given Richard before he and his mother had left for China.

Before the sea had swallowed them both. A shipment of items had returned ahead of them with spices, wine, lotus seeds, ink and brushes, but he had never seen their parents again.

His throat was on fire, his chest trapped in a vice-like grip.

It was here. After two years of secret despair, of shame, here it was.

Returned to him as if by divine intervention.

But it wasn’t divine at all, unless one could consider the actions of one woman as an act of God.

“Is that—” A’wei didn’t finish the question.

He nodded, unable to speak. There was too much inside him fighting to escape. A moment later, he felt her hand on his arm. He wondered if the ache in his chest would ever subside.

“I wondered… She must have found it the day we were kidnapped. She’d seen something in a pawnbroker’s window. After she bought it, she refused to say what it was. I never imagined she had found this.”

He picked up the letter she’d left behind and flipped it open.

Dearest Richard,

I apologize for returning this to you so late.

I didn’t mean to keep it from you for so long.

I know how precious it is and I wanted to make sure it was mended and perfect for you.

After that, I couldn’t find an opportunity with Ada leaving town and you leaving yourself.

I wanted to give you this and tell you how precious you are to me, how long you’ve had my heart and all my hopes for my future.

You are everywhere, in every step I take.

I love you for every smile you’ve given me, every dance, every kindness.

My sincere hope is that you will give me the chance to stay close to you and give you all the love you’ve kindled in me, and that you will find a space for me in your heart.

I will not be angry if you cannot return my feelings, I only couldn’t bear to hold onto them any longer.

I hope you are not angry with me, and I hope having this keepsake returned to you gives you ease and comfort, as you have given me hope and joy.

Yours forever,

Elodia.

She’d done it for him. All this time she’d only been thinking of him, and he had allowed his anger over someone else to hurt her.

Whether or not he returned her feelings, they had always been rooted in consideration for him, not arrogance or presumption.

It was almost uncomfortable reading those adoring words, seeing them laid out so boldly on the page, his father’s pocket watch heavy in his hand as a testament to the truth there in black and white.

Yes , he decided, there was some kind of divinity in her, something perfect and sacred and wonderful that would have driven her to do something like this for him.

For her to treasure his father’s gift and guard it when he couldn’t.

And he had nearly given it away a second time because of his refusal to accept her or her gift.

The image of her in this same room came to his mind and he saw her again as if for the first time.

Her voice soft and halting, her eyes were full of hope and tenderness.

I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.

He couldn’t decide which was more embarrassing to him, her candor or his response.

No one had ever spoken to him this way or thought of him in such a way, he was sure of it.

It was something he had wanted; after all, who didn’t want to be loved?

But he wasn’t exactly happy about it. He didn’t feel as he imagined he would.

There was no rapture, only unease and a feeling like she had made a mistake giving so much to him.

Was that the true source of his discomfort?

Who the hell do you think you are? Rachel’s voice appeared suddenly, sneering and all too familiar. He knew he was worth more than she was willing to give, but was he worthy of what Elodia offered so freely? Was it something he could accept and return?

I’ve been waiting.

Waiting for him. For how many years? Five?

Six? Throughout every word they’d spoken, every dance, every game, every smile and jest, she had been loving him quietly and hoping.

And what had he been doing? Treating her like a sister and giving his body at the very least to a woman who would have just as easily stepped over it if he was in her way.

It felt wrong somehow to accept her feelings now, like someone had offered him a silk embroidered handkerchief to clean mud off his hands.

Surely something so fine had a better use.

He’d never seen her as a prospect, knowing somehow in the back of his mind that she was worth far more than him.

She was so wonderful and so untainted by the world.

There had to be someone better, someone more worthy of her precious feelings.

Someone younger, less tainted, less foolish than he was.

He couldn’t help disappointing her hopes, but he could at least apologize for his words.