He saw the moment his presence registered.
For a heartbeat—just one—her eyes softened. Shock. Recognition. A flicker of the girl who once loved him with her whole soul.
But the moment vanished.
Her spine straightened.
Her hand shifted from the child’s fingers to her shoulder, easing the little girl slightly behind her skirts.
Her expression froze into something cold and unyielding.
He whispered her name without meaning to.
“Violet…”
At the sound, her lips thinned—just barely—a flicker of hurt and refusal.
Her voice, when it came, was soft, almost flat—but it cut deep.
“You have no right to my name.”
Nathaniel’s head snapped toward him, surprise flaring across his face.
Before William could speak, the child caught hold of Violet’s skirt and gave it an urgent tug.
“Mama, the shore is waiting!”
Her bright, eager voice burst through the tension. She turned to Nathaniel with an enormous grin, her whole face alight with excitement.
“Goodbye, Mr. Hamilton! Thank you for letting Mary and Emily come with us!”
Nathaniel bent slightly, his voice warm.
“And thank you for taking them along, Miss Lily. Do bring me back a fine shell.”
Lily.
His daughter’s name was Lily.
“We will!” she chirped.
Nathaniel straightened as Violet turned back to him. He took her gloved hand and bowed over it, brushing a courteous kiss across her knuckles—an old-fashioned gesture, perfectly proper, yet gentle enough to twist something painfully inside William.
“Thank you for taking the girls,” he said. “Anna is away today, and your kindness lets me attend to my guest.”
He inclined his head in William’s direction.
“They’re always welcome to join Lily and me, my lord,” Violet replied, her tone courteous but cool. “We shall see you in a few hours.”
Nathaniel smiled. “Take your time.”
Violet gave a polite dip of her head.
“Good day, my lords.”
And then she walked past William without a single glance, Lily skipping beside her.
The sunlight followed them down the path until they disappeared beyond the gates.
