But she—she did not know what to feel. Not yet. Not fully. Everything Jasper had said pressed against her, heavy and unrelenting. Guilt. Truth. Betrayal. Regret.
And so, she did the only thing she could.
She shut the door of her mind. Quietly. Carefully.
Her eyes grew unfocused. Her thoughts less sharp.
Until eventually, she receded into the safety of her own mind.
Chapter 31
"Good day, Your Grace."
Abigail's final words cracked through the drawing room like the snap of a carriage whip. The door closed behind her with the softest click, and the room held its breath.
Then—one long, collective exhale.
Sophia bowed her head and began to cry quietly, one hand resting protectively on the gentle swell of her belly.
Nathaniel's voice was tired, strained. "Now that you've told her," he said, eyes locked on Jasper, "it's time for you to leave."
But Jasper remained kneeling, fists curled against his knees. His eyes were raw, rimmed red, as though sleep hadn't touched him in days.
"You expect me to leave? After that?" His voice cracked—not with anger, but with something jagged, bewildered. "After how she responded—after seeing my daughter for the first time?" He shook his head, barely catching his breath. "I've been searching for Abigail for months, terrified she was dead. And now—now I find her, and I discover I have a daughter. And you want me to just walk away?"
Grace said nothing. Philip's jaw clenched.
"I love her," Jasper said hoarsely. "I know I made a mistake, but I love her. I never could've anticipated that Charlotte—my baby sister, who I've looked after since our parents death—would lie like that. She told me she didn't want to live. Sheclaimed she lost the baby because I didn't believe her. I—" He broke off, dragging a trembling hand through his hair. "Why would my own sister do that? She had to know it would destroy everything."
Philip stood abruptly, the legs of the sofa scraping loudly against the floor.
"You could have believed me," he growled. "You could've believed Sophia when she told you what you already knew to be true about your sister." Sophia let out a sudden sob. The hand not resting on her swollen stomach clutched a handkerchief to her face. "I told you Charlotte was trying to trap me. Trying to force my hand. You and I have been like brothers since we were boys. Why would I lie about that? Why would Sophia?"
He took a step forward. "And then you took it out on Abigail. My sister. You married her. You bedded her. And then you shattered her. God, Jasper—you're lucky I didn't demand satisfaction or call you out publicly."
He jabbed a finger toward him. "You let your sister ruin everything. You chose her lies over my truth, and Abigail has paid the price. She isn't the same. You've eviscerated her."
Philip turned and helped Sophia to her feet, wrapping a protective arm around her as she leaned into him, still weeping. He guided her from the room without another word, her muffled sobs fading into the hallway.
Jasper rose slowly, the room spinning faintly around him.
Grace and Nathaniel remained seated—rigid, silent. The weight of all that had happened pressed between them.
"I have a daughter," Jasper whispered, as if the words might anchor him. "And I hadn't even met her until today. When I found Greystone Hollow empty, I feared Abigail had died. And now..." His gaze swept over the familiar faces before him—people who once toasted with his parents at Christmas, who helped him learn to ride, who watched him grow. "Now even youlook at me as though I'm filth beneath your shoes. I don't blame you."
Still, neither Grace nor Nathaniel spoke. So he pressed on, his voice low, desperate.
"My sister told a lie so foul I couldn't imagine it false. And I believed her. I let that belief burn everything good in my life to ash. I feel as though I've been walking through hell. But if there's any way back—any chance—I have to try. I need to fix what I've broken."
Grace stood, slowly.
"You want to fix it?" Her voice trembled with barely restrained fury. "You think you can help Abigail become herself again? That the three of you—Abigail, Emmeline, and you—can play at being a happy family?"
She stepped forward, eyes burning. "Try to see it from our side, Jasper. The last time we saw Abigail, she was radiant—newly married, smiling so widely I thought her face might split. She was thrilled, especially about the wedding tour you'd planned. She told us it was a surprise—something you'd been hinting at during the preparations—and it filled her with joy. Then, after a month of silence, we received a letter from you saying neither of you would be attending Philip and Sophia's wedding because Abigail was unwell. And then... nothing. No return address. No way to reach her. Just silence."
She shook her head bitterly. " We contacted every property we knew your family owned, andreceived nothing. We were sick with worry. Then, months later, a stranger writes to us—not you—and tells us our daughter was abandoned in a crumbling manor by her husband. That she is ill. That she's a shadow of herself. And that this stranger—not her husband—is the one caring for her."
Jasper flinched.
