Mother reached across the table, squeezing Eden’s hand. “We only want your happiness, my dear.”
Eden blinked, momentarily stunned by the sincerity in her mother’s voice. It reminded her of a rainy afternoon when she was twelve, soaked to the skin after chasing a runaway foal through the paddock. She had expected scolding, but instead found herself wrapped in a warm towel and an even warmer embrace, her mother murmuring, “What matters is that you are safe.” It was the same tone now, laced with that familiar blend of worry and love.
“I know,” Eden whispered, tears stinging her eyes.
* * *
That evening, Gabriel stood in the grand entrance of Thornton Hall, rolling his shoulders back as he drew a slow, deliberate breath and brushed a speck of lint from his sleeve with more care than necessary. He had rehearsed this moment during sleepless nights and restless mornings, shaping and reshaping every word. Still, uncertainty clung to him. Would they recognize the man he had become, the one who had shed his former recklessness in pursuit of purpose, of honor, of her? His pulse quickened beneath the crisp linen, a silent echo of the storm within. He wore his finest dark blue coat, his boots polished to a mirror shine, his cravat tied with painstaking care.
Yet it was not his appearance that occupied his mind. He thought of the first time he truly saw Eden—not as a girl trailing behind her older brother, but as a woman standing tall in a sunlit orchard, her laughter spilling like light through leaves. It had caught him off guard, that sudden realization, and stayed with him through war zones, quiet exile, and sleepless nights. And now, standing in the home that once felt so far from reach, he carried that moment like a talisman—proof that love, real love, had found him despite all else.
He had pledged himself to her in public and in private. Now he would do so before her family with the formality she deserved.
The butler ushered him into the drawing room, where Thomas and Lady Pavington awaited. Eden stood at a respectful distance, her hands clasped tightly before her, her gaze fixed on Gabriel with a mixture of pride and fear.
Gabriel bowed deeply, his hand briefly curling into a fist at his side, before he forced it to relax. A subtle gesture not missed by Eden, whose breath caught in her throat. Thomas’s gaze narrowed, and Lady Pavington’s lips pressed into a line, unreadable yet watching with keen interest. He hesitated for the barest moment, aware of the air grown still and weighted with expectation. “My lord, my lady.”
Lady Pavington inclined her head. “Lord Blackstone.”
Gabriel cleared his throat, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I come before you tonight to ask for Lady Eden’s hand in marriage. Your blessing means a great deal to me, and to Lady Eden.”
Lady Pavington studied him with a sharp, assessing gaze, as if searching for a glimpse of the boy he once was beneath the polished poise of the man he had become.
Gabriel felt the heat rise beneath his cravat, a faint dampness at the back of his neck. His fingers twitched at his sides, betraying the calm he tried to project.
“You are aware of the consequences of this union?” she asked.
“I am,” Gabriel said without hesitation. “I am aware of the risks, the whispers, the burdens. I accept them all, and vow to protect Lady Eden.”
Lady Pavington’s mouth tightened. “And you would bring those burdens upon my daughter?”
Gabriel stepped forward, his voice ringing with conviction. “I would shield her from them with my life. I would bear every insult, every slight, if it meant she could walk by my side.”
Lady Pavington’s expression softened.
“Words are easy,” she said. “Actions are what matter.”
Gabriel met her gaze unflinchingly. “Then judge me by my actions. I have loved Eden in silence, in secrecy, and now openly. I seek no alliance of convenience and have no need for an elevation of status. My only desire is to make Eden my wife, because without her, my life would be a hollow thing.”
Lady Pavington pressed a hand to her chest, her eyes glistening with quiet emotion.
A long silence fell.
Eden held her breath, willing her Mother to see what she saw. To understand the depth of Gabriel’s love.
Finally, she rose from her chair and crossed the room until she stood before Gabriel.
Mother extended her hand.
Gabriel held it firmly, a breath he had not realized he was holding easing from his chest, tension unwinding like a tight cord at last cut.
“You have my cautious blessing,” she said. “But know this.” She arched an elegant eyebrow. “Hurt her, and there will be no corner of England where you can hide from me.”
Gabriel’s mouth curved in a faint smile. “I would expect no less, my lady.” He brought her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before meeting her gaze. “Thank you.”
Lady Pavington crossed to Eden, gathering her into a fierce embrace. For a heartbeat, Eden froze, then melted into her mother’s arms, the tension that had wound itself around her shoulders finally loosening. A wave of emotion surged within her, gratitude and sorrow mingling with a fierce, aching love.
“We will stand by you,” she whispered. “Come what may.”
