He halted, his brow furrowing. “What is it?”
She took a deep breath, her slender fingers fidgeting with the lace at her wrists. “I... I have already taken matters into my own hands. You see, I am married now. To the Duke of Langley.”
Mother reached out and patted Nicolas’s hand. “See dear, all is well.” She turned toward the door. “And look, here is our tea. Do sit, and cease this talk of duels.”
“Indeed, your sister is Duchess Langley, now.” Father beamed at her before returning his attention to Nicolas. “No lasting harm has been done.”
Nicolas blinked, his mouth falling open in shock. “Married? To Rafe? But how... when?”
“It happened rather quickly,” Joslyn said, her cheeks flushing. “Rafe learned of Lord Forge’s scheme and offered to help. We married three days ago, in a private ceremony.”
Nicolas’s mind reeled. Relief surged through him, followed by gratitude—an unexpected reprieve from the chaos. His sister was safe, her future secured. He sank into a nearby chair, running a hand through his tousled hair. He had questions—lots of questions—but they could wait for now.
“Good God, Jos.” He shook his head. “You have certainly been busy while I’ve been away.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “I could not wait for you to rescue me this time, dear brother. I had to act quickly.”
He nodded, his heart swelling with pride and affection for his clever sister. “And Rafe? He truly did this to protect you?”
“He did,” Joslyn confirmed, her lips curving into a soft smile. “He is a true friend, and now, a devoted husband.”
Nicolas stood, embracing his sister tightly. “Then I owe him a great debt of gratitude. Where is he now? I must thank him properly for safeguarding you when I could not.”
Lady Quinton watched her son as the conversation about Joslyn’s marriage wound down. She noted the slight slump of his shoulders, the faraway look in his gaze. Something was amiss with her youngest, and she was determined to uncover it.
“Nicolas, darling.” She moved to sit beside him on the chaise. “While we are all overjoyed about Joslyn’s fortunate match, I cannot help but notice you seem... distracted. Is something the matter?”
Nicolas startled, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on his thigh. He swallowed hard, his gaze darting around the room before settling on his mother’s concerned face. The weight of his emotions, held in check for so long, suddenly felt unbearable.
“I...” he began, his voice low and laced with sorrow. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Mother, I fear I have made a terrible mistake.”
Mother placed a comforting hand on his arm. “What is it, my dear?”
He closed his eyes, Emily’s face swimming before him. Her warm gaze, the gentle curve of her smile, the way her chestnut hair caught the sunlight, and his heart clenched painfully.
“I think I have fallen in love.” The words spilled out before he could stop them, as if saying them made the feeling all the more real. “With Lady Emily Fairchild. And I left her behind, thinking... oh, I do not know what I was thinking.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I did not even say goodbye.”
A collective gasp echoed through the room, and Nicolas opened his eyes to find his family staring at him in varying degrees of surprise and delight.
“Nicolas, that is wonderful news.” Joslyn clapped her hands together. “Except for the part about leaving with such haste. But I am certain she will forgive you.”
Father chuckled. “Well, well. It seems our boy has finally been tamed. And by such a wonderful lady. She will be a credit to our family as well.”
Nicolas swallowed, the weight of his family’s expectations settling over him. Could he be the man Emily deserved? He exhaled a slow breath.
“I fear you have gotten ahead of yourselves.” Nicolas shook his head, a rueful smile playing at his lips. “Tamed? Hardly. But changed, certainly. Emily... she is unlike anyone I have ever known. Her kindness, her strength, her ability to find joy even in the face of adversity... she is remarkable.”
Mother squeezed his hand. “Oh, my darling boy. I can see how deeply you care for her. Yet you look so forlorn. Surely this is cause for celebration?”
Nicolas sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I fear I may have ruined everything when I left her as I did, and now... well, I am uncertain she will have me.”
“Nonsense,” his father interjected, his voice firm but kind. “Lady Fairchild is every bit as remarkable as you say. She will understand your haste to aid your sister. And if she truly returns your feelings, she will welcome you back with open arms.”
Joslyn nodded enthusiastically. “Father’s right, Nic. You must not lose hope. Tell us more about your time with her—I want to know everything about how she captured my brother’s elusive heart.”
As he spoke of Emily—her kindness, her spirit—he realized how deeply she had burrowed into his heart. How every small thing she did had slowly unraveled the man he had been, leaving him bare before her.
He described her charitable works and her gentle spirit, the way she cared for him and befriended him, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The love and support of his family surrounded him, buoying his spirits and kindling his hope for a future with Emily by his side.
