Alistair struggled to convince himself that this was the right decision. He told himself that their paths were never meant to intertwine in that way, that she already believed herself to belong to someone else, or perhaps to no one at all. He wouldn’t blame her; after all, he was merely a man bound by duty and obligation.
Perhaps I could never truly give her what she wants.
Yet, the memories tugged at him, unrelenting. Her eyes, those expressive hazel pools, sometimes hinted at a deeperconnection, a flicker of something more profound that he dared not interpret.
As he sat there, the quill slipping from his grasp, he felt a deep ache in his chest. It was a pain he had never known before, a longing so intense it made his breath hitch. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to rise, to run after the carriage, to pour out his heart, to tell her that she was the sun in his otherwise shadowed life. The thought of her leaving, of her being out of reach, struck him like a physical blow.
Alistair leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his tousled dark hair, frustration boiling within him. How could he have let her slip away? The realization of his love for her crashed over him like a wave, relentless and consuming.
He closed his eyes, envisioning her radiant smile, the way she lit up a room, and the moments they shared that now felt like distant dreams. How would he navigate this existence, filled with the echoes of what could have been?
The thought alone sent a shiver down his spine, and he opened his eyes to the empty room, feeling more alone than ever before laying his head to rest.
Seconds passed before a sudden knock sounded on the study door, sharp and urgent. Alistair lifted his head from the cool surface of his desk, blinking away the haze of his thoughts.
“Whoever it is, go away. I must be alone for some days,” His tone was weary, laced with frustration as he rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the remnants of his melancholy.
Silence followed, and he let out a breath, glad for the solitude once more. However, just as he began to sink back into his swirling thoughts, another knock echoed through the room. This time, it was accompanied by Evie’s determined voice. “Brother, it is urgent.”
Alistair hesitated, the weight of indecision pulling at him. The last thing he wanted was to face a possible relentless probing when his heart was already heavy. But he straightened up, steeling himself. “Come in,” he finally called out.
The door swung open, and Evie strode in with an intensity that caught him off guard. Her green eyes sparkled with a mix of concern and indignation as she approached his desk, her footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet study.
“Is something the matter?” Alistair asked, raising an eyebrow at the fierce expression etched across her features. He leaned back in his chair, trying to project an air of nonchalance, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
“Why didn’t you stop Cecilia from leaving?” she demanded, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, her tone heavily accusatory.
Alistair feigned ignorance, shrugging slightly. “I don’t see why I would. What sort of question is that?”
Evie scoffed, her hands dropping to the table, palms flat against the polished wood. “You’re not one to play coy, Your Grace. I can see it in your eyes—you and Cecilia are in love, and you acted like a coward, letting her leave without doing anything about it.”
Her sharp words pierced through the study, and all went silent, the truth of her statement settling heavily in the room. Alistair felt exposed under her gaze, as if she could see straight through the facade he had carefully constructed.
He had never had his sister much less anyone speak to him in this manner. Surprisingly, it did not fill him with rage. He no longer had any fight in him. The weight pressed down on him, and he looked away, unable to meet her fierce stare.
Perhaps I am.
“Brother! You need to do something!” Evie’s voice sliced through the silence again, filled with urgency. “Please, don’t give up like this!”
Alistair stared at her, caught off guard by the fierce intensity of her gaze. Her dark hair framed her face, a stark contrast to the soft floral dress she wore. Despite the frustration etched on her features, he could see the concern lurking just beneath the surface.
He couldn’t help but smile, a flicker of warmth breaking through his melancholy. “You’ve changed, little sister. The Evertons have really affected you,” he paused, “You’re more open now.”
Evie’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned in closer, her expression unwavering. “That’s all well and good, but what are you going to do about this situation? You have to go after Cecilia!”
Alistair shook his head slowly, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. “You’re wrong about one thing, sister. Cecilia doesn’t love me.” To his surprise, his voice cracked slightly as he spoke, revealing the vulnerability he had been trying to suppress. “It’d be foolish to try anything. Even if I had to make her fall for me, I do not know where to start.”
Evie’s features softened, but her resolve remained. “For a man so powerful and intelligent, you’re incredibly dense about matters of the heart,” she quipped, a teasing lilt in her voice that belied the seriousness of the situation.
Alistair winced, narrowing his eyes at her bluntness. He wasn’t used to this side of his sister, and it threw him off balance. He opened his mouth to respond, but she pressed on, her tone urgent.
“Cecilia is leaving for Scotland soon, Alistair. If you do nothing now, you’ll live the rest of your life heartbroken, knowing you never even tried.”
The world seemed to stop at Evangeline’s words.
No.
No, it can’t be true.
