Matilda stared at her, helpless. “But you hoped.”
Evelyn nodded, slowly. “I did.” Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric she held. “I hoped that somewhere along the way, something would change. That maybe… maybe he’d look at me not as a partner in an arrangement but as someone he wanted to stay.”
Tears pricked at the corners of Matilda’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “You’re just going to leave without speaking to him?”
“It would be too painful,” Evelyn said quietly. “To see him. To say goodbye and still walk away. I couldn’t bear it, Matilda. Not now. Not after everything. So, I’m doing what’s best for both of us. I just want him to be happy. Even if that life doesn’t include me.”
Matilda crossed the room and hugged her fiercely. Evelyn didn’t resist. She closed her eyes and let her sister hold her, swallowing down the grief pressing hard against her chest. Then, they simply continued packing, as if that didn’t symbolize the end of Evelyn’s happiness.
The soft rustle of gowns being folded and the occasional snap of a trunk latch were the only sounds that filled the room. Matilda worked beside her in silence, her movements quiet and methodical, but Evelyn’s hands slowed with every item she packed. Her mind, however, would not still.
She kept thinking of him.
Robert… his voice, his quiet smiles, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her. The way he’d kissed her forehead before charging off into the night, fury burning in his gaze, purpose in his stride. Her chest ached at the thought. Had he slept at all? Had he eaten?
She didn’t know. And the not-knowing gnawed at her.
Her fingers lingered on the last of her belongings, which was a ribbon he had once tucked behind her ear during a walk in the gardens, laughing as the wind tried to carry it away. She held it for a moment longer than necessary then laid it atop the others and closed the trunk with finality.
“That’s everything,” she managed to muster.
Matilda gave her a look, hesitant and searching, but Evelyn offered only a small smile. “Go on ahead. Wait for me in the carriage. I’ll be only a few minutes.”
Matilda hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Evelyn said gently. “I just need to write a note. Something for Robert. He deserves… something. I don’t know if I can make it a proper goodbye but at least an explanation.”
Matilda opened her mouth to argue but then closed it again. With a nod, she slipped from the room. Evelyn stood alone in the quiet chamber, her eyes sweeping over the space that had become a home, however briefly.
She moved to the writing desk by the window, the one with the ink-stained blotter and the neatly stacked stationery she often used to write to Cordelia and Hazel. She took up a sheet of cream-colored parchment, dipped the pen in ink, and paused.
Her heart beat a little faster.
She assumed he was still with the constables, handling the legal unraveling of the Viscount’s crimes. There must have been a tangle of lies and bribes to sort through. That was why he hadn’t returned, why he hadn’t come to her, why he hadn’t said anything.
It had to be.
She touched the tip of the pen to the paper and began to write carefully and sincerely, words she wasn’t sure he’d ever truly hear.
My dear Robert,
By the time you read this, I will be gone. Please do not take this as a farewell born of bitterness or regret, for it is not. Rather, it is the only way I know how to preserve what we had without clouding it with awkward goodbyes or unspoken questions.
When we married, we did so with an understanding. A shared purpose. We would walk together only for a while until the shadows of the past allowed you peace. I never expected anything beyond that.
The wordsbut I hopedlingered in her mind, demanding that they be included in the letter, but she refrained from doing so. She didn’t want to make it overly emotional but rather practical, just as he himself was.
I only ask that you be happy. Whatever form that happiness takes, be it vengeance fulfilled, peace restored, or a new chapter begun, may it be yours, and may it be full.
And if, in some quiet corner of your soul, you ever think of me, I hope it is with warmth. I will think of you with the same.
Yours—gratefully, quietly, and always with affection,
Evelyn
When she finished, she folded the letter and sealed it, pressing the wax with her signet ring. Her hands trembled slightly as she addressed it.
To Robert.
