Her lips curved as she sank into the chair, feeling the ghost of her past self stir. They were alone, no prying eyes or sharp tongues, and Nathaniel’s easy confidence was infectious. For a moment, it almost felt like the old days—two partners sharing a quiet morning before throwing themselves into their work. Except, before, they didn’t have servants. They had prepared the meals themselves and served themselves. Now, the entrance of the butler, followed by a footman and a maid carrying a tea service and plates of food, momentarily threw her off.
“Leave everything on the table, Wilson,” Nathaniel said to the butler. “Lady Greystone and I will serve ourselves.”
He had used her title on purpose. To remind the staff she was the mistress of this house. Or maybe to remind her as well. She seemed to need more reminding than the staff.
The butler supervised the staff as they set out the breakfast and then, with a small bow in their direction, left the room.
“See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
“I didn’t have to do anything. You gave the orders.”
“You’ll get used to it. You can be very commanding when it suits you.”
She simply smiled and lifted the teapot to hide her unease. She had never backed down from any challenge, but in this field, she had suffered the worst defeats of her life.
The days that followed settled into an unexpected rhythm. With no further leads in the investigation, deciphering the documents became their primary focus. And a frustrating task it was, for no matter what they did, the code remained stubbornly elusive to break.
Nathaniel spent most evenings at their Kensington townhouse, their time divided between poring over thewidow’s documents and tangled sheets. His presence felt both comforting and unsettling, the reawakening of a marriage that had never quite died. They debated ciphers over tea, shared knowing smiles over dinner, spent their evenings reading and knitting in their cozy library, as they did before, and touched each other with an intimacy that was both familiar and yet edged with something fragile and new.
But then, just as she was beginning to believe this delicate balance might hold, the summons came.
He had convinced her to spend the evening at his townhouse, claiming he had to attend to some business. After an admittedly sumptuous dinner, they retired to his study, another one of the rooms he had re-decorated to fit his taste. It was comfortable and cozy, in the same style of their small library at home. He was going through his correspondence while she knitted in the armchair by the fire when a soft expletive from him caught her attention.
She looked at him. “Is something the matter?”
“Yes. Problems at the estate. The steward informs me there’s a blight affecting the crops. And my mother claims she’s taken ill and that my presence is required.” He waved a sheet of paper in his hand, presumably the letter from his mother. “I’ll have to visit Greystone.”
Alice’s stomach sank. Of course, it was his family. It was always his family. She lowered her gaze to her knitting, her fingers tightening on the needles. “In the middle of a mission, Nathaniel? Really?”
“It should only take me a couple of days. I’ve ignored Greystone for too long, Alice. They’re my responsibility.” His voice was calm, but she heard the note of weariness there.
“And I’m not?” The words slipped out sharper than she intended, and she immediately wished she could take them back. God, she sounded so needy! So whiny. This was not whoshe wanted to be. It was not who she was. But it was the person she transformed into around his family. She hated it, even as she felt herself slipping into the same patterns that had torn them apart before.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He stepped closer, crouched by her chair, his hand closing over her tightened fists, massaging the back of her hand to get her to loosen her death grip on the needles. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. Come with me to Greystone.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “So I can subject myself to your mother and sister-in-law again? I’d rather not.”
“It would be different this time. I’ll talk to my mother and Louisa, and make it clear I won’t tolerate any disrespect towards you. I’ll support you, like I should have done before. Let me make up for the mistakes of the past.”
She shook her head. “You can promise that now, but when we’re there, it’ll be the same. They won’t be openly hostile. It will be subtle. I’ll feel their derision, their condescension and contempt. I’m not cut out for life as an aristocrat, Nathaniel. I don’t want it.”
His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking. “I didn’t want it either. I was happy with my life, with our life. But my brother died, and I was thrust into this role. I had no choice but to give up my work, my home, my life. Must I give up my wife as well?”
He had stood while he spoke, and his posture was rigid, fairly vibrating with anger and another emotion she recognized in herself—the yearning and frustration of trying to reconcile two worlds that didn’t match. She stood as well to face him.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t want to give you up.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To be who I am. Here. With my work.”
“That is no longer possible, Alice. At least, not the same way it used to be.” He exhaled wearily, and hung his head as he rakeda hand through his hair. “Just as I wasn’t given a choice on whether to accept this title, as my wife you don’t have a choice either. This is our life now. If you want me, you will have to accept my aristocratic self and all the responsibilities that come with it. We can make it a good life. I will help you, support you. Defend you. But you have to choose it. You have to be willing to fight by my side. If not, we might as well continue with the divorce.”
The words hung in the air between them, ugly and heavy. Her heart plummeted to the bottom of her feet. She didn’t want to lose him again. Not after they had reconnected. After the bliss they had shared in the past few days.
But she had this conviction that embracing this part of his life would mean losing herself and losing him in the end, regardless. She needed to think. Needed to get to the bottom of her fear. The root of her reluctance.
“I understand.” Her voice came out raspy. Choked. She cleared her throat before continuing, “I don’t want to lose you, Nathaniel. If nothing else, please believe that. But I have to figure some things out. I need some time. Can you give me some time?”
