Nathaniel could not speak. Not yet. The ghosts Jasper left behind were not so easily exorcised. But his hands were tied— Jasper remained her husband, though he was entirely unworthy of the role.
The room eventually emptied; each person lost in thought.
That night, Nathaniel sat at his desk, candlelight flickering as he composed a letter.
Mr. Finch—
Come to Bramblewick tomorrow at noon. Abigail will decide what is to be said, and if it is to be said at all. You will abide by our terms, or you will not speak to her at all.
-Lord Nathaniel Browning
He folded it, sealing it with a heavy sigh.
Sleep evaded him and Grace both that night. They lay beside one another in silence, hands entwined, whispering their fears into the dark.
.
Chapter 28
Jasper's horse trotted along the tree-lined road to Bramblewick, its hooves muffled by the thin layer of snow that sat on the road. He sat tall and impeccably dressed, but his polished exterior barely concealed the nerves twisting in his gut. The letter from Lord Nathaniel had arrived at first light, and he'd wasted no time. He rode straight into the village after inquiring at his leased home as to where he might find what he required, and was duly directed to the local seamstress’s shop..
Inside, shelves brimmed with charm—homespun cloth, polished buttons, and rows of hand-crafted rag dolls. The scent of lavender hung in the air.
The seamstress had made small talk. Hoping to gauge what she knew, Jasper casually mentioned the doll was for the Duke and Duchess of Everly's granddaughter."She's a quiet one, the little miss. She is going to love this doll," the seamstress lovingly said as she handed Jasper his purchase.
The rag doll wore a soft pink dress, with a white lace bonnet perched atop its head. Brown yarn peeked out like wild curls beneath the hat, and a painted face smiled faintly from the white cotton. It reminded him of the dolls his sister used to cradle, though hers had been far more intricate.
He had also commissioned a stuffed rabbit toy, the seamstress said one could be made for him in a few days time.
Now, with the doll carefully tucked into his jacket, Jasper dismounted at Bramblewicks entrance. The doorman greeted him without expression and ushered him inside.
The morning room glowed with filtered light. Grace and Nathaniel sat side by side on one settee, dignified and still. On the other, Philip and Sophia, visibly pregnant, nodded a quiet greeting. But Abigail was nowhere to be seen.
He took the high-backed chair they gestured to, grateful for the support.
A maid entered with a gleaming tea cart, setting down the tray with precision. Teacups clinked, porcelain chimed. Grace poured for them all, then set her cup aside. She folded her hands in her lap and looked directly at him.
"Nathaniel told us you stopped by a few days ago," she began. Her voice was composed but cool, like water just starting to ice over. "Looking for our daughter."
Jasper nodded once. "Yes, ma'am."
"You told him, and Philip as well, the story of what happened. Why you did what you did." Her lips tightened. "Out of loyalty- evidently misplaced loyalty- to your sister, you said."
He flinched at the tone. "Yes."
"I was appalled by what Charlotte did," she continued, her voice steady but flat. "The lies. The manipulation. But I was doubly appalled by whatyoudid to Abigail—by the choicesyoumade. We may not yet know everything, but what wedoknow is enough to leave us utterly horrified."
Jasper's brows furrowed. "I... I don't understand. You say you're not aware of everything that transpired. But surely—Abigail told you?"
Grace's face went rigid. But it was Nathaniel who answered.
"No," he said quietly. "That is precisely why we wanted to speak with you first. Before Abigail joins us."
Jasper's heart thudded.
"You've told us what happened from your side," Nathaniel went on, voice low but firm. "Let me show you what happened after you drove away from Graystone Hollow."
He reached into his coat and retrieved a folded letter; the paper softened at the creases. He handed it to Jasper.
