Alex accepted the note and studied the seal. There was no crest, only a single pressed mark. A circle with no center, like something watching, without ever being seen.
His brows lifted.
He broke the seal and opened the page. As his eyes moved down the paper, his jaw set.
He handed it to Barrington. Georgina, standing just beside them, leaned closer.
You’re following ghosts. Step back. Others have vanished for less.
The handwriting was sharp and tidy but unfamiliar. Barrington flipped the sheet and looked for more. Nothing.
“That’s not a warning,” he said. “It’s a threat.”
Georgina stepped closer to the fire. “It’s anonymous. No seal. No sender. No signature.”
Alex met her eyes. “But someone knows what we’re doing. And they want us to stop.”
Barrington set the paper on the mantel and watched the edges curl in the heat.
No one spoke for a long moment.
Then Alex turned to Barrington. “We shift to Ravenstock. Fewer eyes, more control.”
Georgina glanced between them. “It’s not fortified.”
“No, but it’s less exposed politically,” Barrington said. “And you’ll be more comfortable there. We’ll bring Kenworth and two of my men. They’ll assist Mrs. Hemsley with the household and keep watch.”
“I won’t be coddled,” Georgina said.
“You won’t be,” Alex replied. “But you’ll be protected. That’s notthe same thing.”
She didn’t argue. Not because she agreed with the reasoning, but because she could sense it wasn’t truly negotiable.
Kenworth cleared his throat from the doorway. “In that case, I’ll tell the men to start packing. I assume we’re taking the good teapot?”
That broke the tension, just enough.
“I’ll follow after sunset,” Barrington said. “There’s one more message I need to send.”
Georgina nodded, already turning toward the door. “I’ll prepare Mrs. Hemsley for guests.”
Alex walked her to the threshold. Outside, the last of the sun caught the edge of the horizon. The quiet stretched between them again, but it carried purpose now, anticipation threaded with care. She could feel the words he wouldn’t say settle in the space just before the door.
“You’re not alone in this,” he said.
She nodded once. “Neither are you.”
He didn’t watch her go. He went with her.
By the time the carriage was ready, Kenworth had issued orders, and two of Barrington’s men were already mounting up. Georgina stepped inside, her folio pressed to her chest, and Alex followed without hesitation.
The ride to Ravenstock was quiet. Not the silence of uncertainty, but of understanding. Of readiness. When the wheels found rhythm over the road, their shoulders brushed once. Neither drew away. The quiet between them was less like distance, more like promise, an unspoken pact sealed in motion.
And as the lamps were lit at the manor, and Mrs. Hemsley appeared in the doorway with a furrowed brow and a warm welcome, the wheels of their plan were already in motion.
Ravenstock had once held only memories. Tonight, it held the future.
Chapter Twenty-Two
