Robert said nothing. His eyes scanned the brittle pages, his fingers tracing names and seals that had haunted his dreams for over a decade. Then, the Viscount spoke again.
“It was true,” he said bitterly. “The royal lineage. Some ancient, dusty claim through a second cousin thrice removed. Forgotten by everyone except me.” He sank into the chair, defeated. “I was twenty. You were ten. And your family stood in my way.”
Robert’s head snapped up.
“If your family had died, and there were no heirs,” the Viscount continued, his voice low and venomous, “I had enough men in court, clerks, stewards, fools happy to take coin, to smooth over the lines of inheritance. I would have had the title. The land. Everything.”
“I needed a proper seal, of course, if I were to set out righting these wrongs. What allowed me to steal of Eleanor’s father was mere servant complicity. A footman, who worked there temporarily, was easily blackmailed into procuring the seal for me. I kept it on my person just long enough to cast a mold of it in wax, then it was just a matter of casting the replica in metal.”
His voice broke with twisted nostalgia. “I commissioned the robbery and the murders. Simple, clean. But your bloody housekeeper got clever, hid you away with some of the staff. By the time I found out you were alive, it was too late. The paperwork was unraveling. I couldn’t claim anything. I couldn’t get near you, although I tried to, but you’ve locked yourself away in that manor house, refusing to allow any visitors.”
Robert’s stomach turned. The roaring in his ears grew louder.
“And then,” the Viscount sneered, “you had the audacity to return from the dead. At one point, I considered simply setting your home on fire, and making sure no one was left alive… to finally end what had been started a long time ago. But it would have been such a shame to ruin that manor house.” She scoffed, then added. “And you didn’t just come back from the dead but with Evelyn.MyEvelyn. I wanted her. I thought she was a pliant little thing, but she wouldn’t bend.” He gave a bitter laugh. “She always looked at me like she could see right through me.”
Robert’s voice came out quiet and dangerous. “So I lost my family. My entire life. For your chance at my title?”
The Viscount met his gaze and spat at his feet.
“I would do it again,” he snarled. “And I’d make damn sure you stayed dead this time.”
Robert moved before he even realized it. His fist slammed into the Viscount’s jaw then into the ribs, stomach, cheekbone. The chair tipped over with a crash. Robert followed him to the ground as his fists pounded into flesh, every strike a release of grief and agony bottled for fifteen long years. The Viscount tried to shield himself, but Robert struck again and again.
He saw red. He felt the bones shift under his knuckles. He heard nothing but the ghost of his brother’s laughter, his mother’s soft hum, his father’s proud voice, all torn away.
But then, he saw Evelyn. He saw her face, calm and radiant. Her hand pulling his. Her voice telling him to follow his heart.
That was when his arm stilled mid-swing. Breathing heavily, Robert stood. His chest heaved, fists bloodied. The Viscount groaned beneath him. His face was swollen, his lip split, and his eye already darkening.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor.
The butler appeared at the door, gasping. “My… My Lord, is everything?—?”
Robert didn’t even look away from the broken man at his feet.
“Fetch the constables,” he cut him off. “Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Evelyn folded a gown with care, her hands trembling only slightly as she laid it into the open trunk. The sound of a drawer closing echoed softly behind her. Matilda was helping though the silence between them stretched taut like a drawn bow.
Evelyn smoothed her hands over the silk of the next gown. “You don’t have to help, you know,” she said lightly though her voice lacked conviction.
Matilda didn’t respond right away. She was wrapping a shawl with deliberate precision before placing it beside the other neatly packed items.
Finally, she looked up, her brow furrowed. “Why are you doing this?”
Evelyn paused with her hands resting on the edge of the trunk. For a moment, she couldn’t find her voice.
Then, with a small sigh, she spoke quietly. “We had an arrangement, Matilda. Robert and I. From the beginning. We were to spend a month together, after our wedding. Once he uncovered the truth about what happened to his family, I believed that arrangement might change, but he didn’t say anything. So, now, all that is left if for us to go our separate ways. Discreetly, of course. We’d remain married in the eyes of society but nothing more.”
Matilda turned fully toward her, eyes wide with disbelief. “But… Evelyn. You love him.”
Evelyn smiled faintly, a sad sort of smile, and folded another chemise with practiced grace. “Yes,” she said softly. “I do.”
“Then why…” Matilda’s voice cracked. “Why would you leave?”
“Because he hasn’t said anything,” Evelyn replied, her voice calm but edged with pain. “Not a word about what he wants. About us. He has what he needs now. Closure. Justice. And I… I was just a part of the journey that got him there.”
