The French doors connecting the terrace to the main house slammed with enough force to make her jump, anda moment later she recognized the figure storming towards her through the gardens.
A growl rose from Archie’s throat, but she put her hand out to stop him from moving. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he snarled, but she shook her head.
She swallowed hard and turned to face the man she loved. “I need to do this.”
Archie’s spine was stiff, a solid buttress for her to crumble against or allow her to soar to cathedral-like heights. “Would you like me to go with you?”
“No. I’ll face him alone.” She pulled back and met his cautious gaze. “He can’t hurt me anymore.”
Her feet didn’t believe her sanguine words, dragging with each step towards her former husband, meeting at the edge of the wild fields surrounding the hives and the manicured gardens.
She held his gaze with a boldness that surprised her. She was his equal now, not in the eyes of society but in the bedrock of her soul.
Blotchy pink stained his cheeks as he glared. “What in the devil are you doing here?”
Familiar tremors began climbing up her legs like insidious vines, but she stepped forward, snapped them in twain. “I came to say goodbye.”
He scoffed, his nose wrinkling as though he smelled something putrid. “You said everything in that sham of a trial—”
“I didn’t come for you. I came for the bees. They’re free now, as am I.”
His eyes narrowed. “Then get off—”
“I have far more to say.” She didn’t stutter, and to her amazement, he froze. Helistened.
“I wanted to be a perfect wife for you. The p-perfect mother for your sons. A single kind word, an acknowledgement of my humanity, would have meant the world.”
His nostrils flared, but he remained silent.
“I asked myself what I could have d-done to make you happy, but there was nothing. And I would have let that continue if it hadn’t been for our children.” She stepped closer, the fire in her belly growing to a conflagration, ready to consume him, to reduce what lingered of their relationship to ashes. “You are still and will forever be their father. Reggie will be the next marquess. And because of that, you can never be rid of me. You will never forget me, never be able to ignore me. But I can and will ignore you.”
“You fucking bitch,” he snarled, spittle flying from his lips. “How dare you—”
“I dare,”she hissed, “because your cruelty did exactly what you didn’t want—it made mefearless.And nothing you do or say can touch me anymore.”
With one last glare, she turned, carried her trembling body away from her former husband, her former life, away from the tidy gardens and into the wild of Archie’s arms.
“Christ, I’m proud of you,” he said, his lips pressing to her temple as he rubbed her back.
A sob escaped, and she leaned against him for a moment longer. “I’m proud of us,” she whispered.
He held her until they were in the carriage and she sobbed, tears of relief, of gratitude, of grief. Of the pain of stitching herself back together, knowing better days awaited her, if she was brave enough to grasp them.
Epilogue
Eight months later
Archiepacedacrosstheparlor floor twice more, wiped his palms down his thighs, and sat on the settee. He’d faced more difficult meetings than this. Last week, he had argued a case in front of the high court without a quiver in his voice or a tremble in his hand.
But not since the trial had the rest of his life hung in the balance.
With one last steadying breath, he opened his eyes to face Reggie and Matthew. “Thank you for meeting with me.”
Matthew’s features twisted in concern. “Are we in trouble?”
The innocent question punched the air from his lungs, and he chuckled. “No, you’re not in trouble.”
“Areyouin trouble?” Reggie was always more astute than his brother.
