Page 106 of The Earl's Reluctant Artist

“I know,” Flick whispered. “But I was afraid. I still am.”

Silence stretched, broken only by the crackle of the fire. Eliza looked down at her hands, then up at the woman before her. The betrayal was bitter, but so was the sorrow in Flick’s eyes.

The duke broke the stillness. “You will not return to him. You will leave this place. Tonight, if possible.”

Flick’s head jerked up. “Leave?”

“You have done your part,” Tristan said. “What remains is ours to handle. Stay, and you will be hunted. Go, and you may yet have a life untouched by his ruin.”

He drew out a purse, heavy with coins, and set it on the table beside the ledger. “Take this. It will see you safely beyond his reach.”

Flick’s lips trembled. Her hand brushed the purse, then pulled back. “I do not deserve such mercy.”

The duke’s voice cut sharp. “This is not about what you deserve, Miss Ashcombe. It is about how you survive.”

Flick bowed her head, tears streaking her cheeks. She rose unsteadily. As she passed Eliza, she touched her arm with trembling fingers. “Forgive me. I never wished harm to you. I only wished to be seen.”

Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat. “Go, Miss Ashcombe. Make this choice the one you do not regret.”

Flick nodded once, clutched the purse, and left the room.

The door clicked shut. The air seemed to release, yet no one moved.

Eliza turned to Tristan. His eyes were still on the ledger, fury and something heavier etched into his face. She stepped closer, her voice soft.

“I am sorry. I am sorry for what my brother has done to you. To all of us.”

At last, Tristan looked at her. His expression was hard, but not cold. The firelight showed the weight of betrayal, yet also the faintest crack of something gentler.

“Eliza,” he said quietly, “this is not your burden. It is his. And now it is mine to answer.”

She felt tears sting her eyes. “Still, I cannot help but feel …”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Do not take his shame upon yourself.”

Her breath caught. She reached out, hesitating, before resting her hand lightly against his arm. “Then let us face it together. Whatever comes.”

For a moment, he did not move. Then his hand covered hers, warm and steady. His voice dropped, almost a vow. “Together.”

Eliza drew closer, the fire’s glow at their backs. Their embrace was quiet, but full, the kind that needed no words. For the first time in weeks, the fear loosened its hold.

They would stand, not alone, but side by side.

And Marcus’s shadow would no longer be enough to break them.

Chapter 28

The carriage wheels hummed against the rough road. Tristan sat stiffly, arms folded across his chest, the weight of the ledger still burned into his mind. The firelight from last night seemed to follow him even now and every line of Marcus’s forgeries replayed in his head.

Even the lies sat heavily against his chest as he drew a slow breath.

This is no longer only about land. It is about the people who depend on me. And about her.

Across from him, Gideon watched him with a soldier’s sharp eyes. At length, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You are grinding your teeth again, my lord,” he said flatly.

Tristan blinked. “Am I?”