She placed it on the desk where the housekeeper would see it the moment she entered. Then, with one last glance around the room that had witnessed both her heartbreak and her hope, Evelyn turned and walked out.
She dared not look back.
Robert burst through the front doors, the echoes of his boots crashing through the entry hall like thunder. Rain still clung to his coat, misting the polished floors as he strode through the house with purpose.
His heart was racing not with fury this time but with the need to see her, to tell her everything. That it was over. That justice had been served. That he could finally look ahead and that he wanted to look ahead with her.
He crossed the foyer and called her name once then twice.
“Your Grace?” the housekeeper’s soft voice halted him as he passed the staircase. She stepped forward, her hands folded over a sealed envelope.
“She asked me to give this to you,” the woman said with her eyes downcast. “She left it in her room. I… I thought you should have it right away.”
Robert stilled. His breath caught in his chest as he reached out and took the letter. He read it once. Then again. And again. By the time he looked up, the housekeeper was gone, and the silence pressed in like a stone weight.
He slumped into the nearest chair in the drawing room, the parchment slipping slightly from his fingers. His hand braced his forehead, his eyes shut tight against the burn behind them.
She was gone.
She had told him before that she never wanted to be controlled, that she would never let a man define her life. He’d admired that fire in her. After all, he had fallen for it without even realizing it.And yet… in his silence, in his delay, he had failed to tell her the one thing that mattered.
That he loved her.
He loved her more than his revenge. More than the bloodline and legacy he had clung to for so long. More than the haunted memories that had ruled him.
And now, she was gone.
He stood suddenly, the letter crumpling in his hand as he walked into his study. The fire had gone out in the hearth. He tossed another log in then struck a match. The flames caught with a sputter, illuminating the room in flickering gold.
He sat at his desk and tried to focus, to think of documents, of titles, of the next steps with the Crown’s lawyers. But all he could see was her. His mind was plagued was her laughter dancing through his hallways, her fingers skimming across the backs of his books, her voice, soft but unyielding, telling him exactly what she believed in.
He leaned back in his chair, the paper still clutched in one hand, and stared at the fire. He had respected her wishes. He forced himself to do so. But now that he had, he wasn’t sure how to live without her.
Robert sat in the chair far longer than he meant to. Evelyn’s letter lay open on his desk, the ink beginning to blur where histhumb had pressed too tightly over the words. He read it again, slower this time, feeling as each line resembled a blade sinking deeper.
I only ask that you be happy.
But she was his happiness. And he had been too late in saying so.
The study felt stifling now, heavy with her absence. Her voice echoed in every corner of the house, in the drawing room where she had read beside the windows, in the halls where her laughter had lingered, in the bedroom where she had once told him she would not be a shadow of a wife. And now, this house was nothing but a shell echoing with everything he had lost.
He rose abruptly. The chair scraped against the floor. His coat was still damp from the storm the night before, but he didn’t care. He grabbed it from the stand, his cravat loose, fingers trembling as he fastened the buttons. He couldn’t stay here, surrounded by reminders of what could have been. He needed to clear his mind, to think, to act, before he let another moment slip through his fingers.
“Mason,” he muttered under his breath, already reaching for the door.
Within minutes, his horse was saddled. The wind bit at his cheeks as he galloped down the muddy lane toward his friend’s estate, a hard and urgent rhythm pounding under him, the only thing matching the rhythm in his chest.
Mason’s home stood warm and lit, like a welcoming beacon. Robert barely waited for the stable boy to take the reins before striding to the front door and rapping his knuckles hard against it.
Moments later, Mason himself opened the door, his eyes widening at the sight of Robert: disheveled, grim-faced, and wet from the waist down.
“God’s teeth, man, what happened to you?” Mason asked, stepping aside. “Come in before you freeze to death.”
Robert stepped in, brushing past him, dragging fingers through his hair. He paused only once, long enough to say in a low voice, “She’s gone.”
Mason blinked. “Evelyn?”
Robert nodded once, sharply. “She left this morning. Thought it was over. That our arrangement was done. And I…” He stopped, exhaling hard, jaw clenched. “I let her think it was.”
