Simms and Barrington tore through the wreckage. A hand emerged. Then a shoulder. And then Alex. He staggered into the light, covered in grit and blood, limping but whole.
Georgina ran to him.
She didn’t speak. Just wrapped her arms around him and held on. The world might have been burning around them, and she would still have known that feel, the warmth and quiet strength of him, the proof that hoping had never been in vain. The strength in her grip wasn’t relief. It was determination. He had come back to her. She would not lose him again.
He murmured her name like a vow, and her breath hitched as tears traced paths through the dust on her cheeks.
He bent to kiss her, not possessively, not even gently, but with the aching relief of a man who thought he might never feel this again.
She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, and in that gaze was everything. Fear, fury, and forgiveness. She didn’t let go. She wouldn’t. Not now. Not ever.
He leaned his forehead against hers and let out a faint, battered breath. “That’s twice now,” he rasped. “You’re going to make a habit of this.”
Her laughter turned to tears, brief but unshakable.
Behind them, Simms helped drag Everly from the wreckage. His coat was torn. His expression was blank. His hands were shackled.
Barrington approached, his jaw set. “He’ll talk now. If not to us, then to Parliament. This ends the Shadow Order.”
Alex didn’t take his eyes off Georgina. “No. This ends their hiding.”
Carver stood nearby, covered in grit, his sleeves torn, his hands raw from the dig. He hadn’t rested. He hadn’t stopped.
Alex faced him. “You saved more than one life today.”
Carver gave a nod, nothing more.
The wind stirred through the trees. Dust still hung in the air.
They survived. They had him. And in the fragile hush that followed, with dawn breaking over the ridge, it was, just for that breath of time, as if light had finally chosen their side.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The sun hadfully risen by the time the coach rumbled up the drive. Alex’s horse, reins looped and trailing, was tied to the back of the coach. He’d chosen to ride beside her, not ahead.
Ravenstock Manor stood quiet, dignified, and unaware of the night’s violence. But the stillness didn’t last. As the wheels crunched to a halt, the front door burst open.
Mrs. Hemsley descended the steps at a near run.
“Thank the Lord,” she breathed, eyes fixed on Georgina. “I told them you’d come home.”
Georgina stepped down with care, one hand still linked with Alex’s. Her face was pale, drawn with fatigue and smoke, but her gaze remained steady.
“I’m all right,” she said softly. “We’re all alright.”
Behind her, Simms and Barrington dismounted. Everly, bound and bloodied, was hauled from the second conveyance and immediately flanked by two of Barrington’s men. He didn’t speak. He didn’t look up. His coat was torn, his expression unreadable.
Eliza appeared at the door with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She stared at Georgina as if trying to reconcile the woman before her with the image she had feared.
One of the Brigade stood aside, and she saw him. Everly.
Her face changed.
Georgina caught her breath. “Eliza—”
But Eliza stepped back without a word and vanishedinto the house.
Barrington nodded to Simms. “Put him in the cellar. And don’t take your eyes off him.”
