Then her gaze dropped to the doll. Slowly—mechanically—she reached out and took it from him. No words. No reaction. She simply held the toy in front of Emmeline's tear-streaked face.
And the crying stopped.
The little girl blinked through the blur of tears, let out a delighted squeal, and clutched the doll with both hands. She babbled and cooed, waving it around with newfound joy.
Jasper backed away and returned to his seat.
Grace didn't speak. She couldn't trust her voice. She hadn't expected Abigail to take the gift—certainly not from him. But then again, Abigail would walk through fire if it meant making Emmeline smile. Grace knew that as surely as she knew her daughter's heartbeat.
Now Emmeline sat content in Abigail's lap, teething on the doll's stuffed arm, swinging it playfully. Abigail hadn't looked away. Her eyes were still locked on Jasper.
Then Jasper spoke again.
"Abigail," he said gently.
Abigail glanced down at Emmeline—checking that she was soothed—then lifted her gaze again.
"I've been..." He exhaled shakily. "I've been all kinds of idiotic. And I am so deeply sorry for what I did to you."
Good, Grace thought. Don't you dare try to explain it away. Don't you dare make excuses.
"I have no defense. No excuse for what happened," Jasper went on, his voice low and rough with shame. "But I want to tell you everything. Everything that happened before our wedding. And after. I don't believe for a moment that it will undo the pain I've caused you... but I know you deserve the truth."
A stillness followed. For a moment, Grace thought Abigail might turn away again.
But then, astonishingly, Abigail turned—not toward Jasper.
Toward her.
Her mother.
Grace's throat tightened. She met her daughter's eyes. They were clouded, frightened, asking something silent.
Grace nodded gently.
I'm here, it said. Whatever he says, I'm here.
And Abigail turned back to Jasper. She gave him the smallest of nods.
He had his opening.
Now came the truth.
Chapter 30
Abigail shifted slightly in the armchair; one arm wrapped protectively around Emme's waist—just enough to steady her daughter. Emmeline giggled softly. Her doll's cotton dress was rumpled from eager little fingers, and she tugged at its tiny bonnet with fierce concentration as she sat nestled safely in her mother's lap.
Across the room, Jasper sat, hands clasped, shoulders stiff, as if afraid to breathe too loudly.
She didn't understand why he was here.
Her family had told her the day before that Jasper had come to Bramblewick, intending to speak with her. She hadn't believed it. Not really. It had been a long time since she'd truly thought of him, not since the fog had settled over her mind.
Once, he had been her everything. Her sun. Her moon. Her stars. Her world, wrapped in promises of love and forever.
And then he was gone.
He'd turned on her with cruel words and crueler silence, abandoning her without explanation. She had waited at first, desperate for clarity—for something to make sense. But none came. Only silence.
