* * *
Gabriel paced before the hearth in the library, his steps quick and uneven, as though he could out-walk the storm raging in his chest. Each turn on the rug echoed with the weight of his fears. What if Thomas refused to give his blessing in earnest? What if Eden’s family never truly welcomed him? Perhaps the damage he had caused was simply too grave to overcome.
The worst-case scenarios played like ghosts before his eyes. Eden in tears, their future unraveling, the door to Blackstone closing before it had fully opened. Each step across the library rug was a silent plea for acceptance, a prayer that he had proven himself worthy not only of Eden but of the family he was to join. He stiffened at Thomas’s entrance but stood his ground, meeting his gaze.
Thomas had scarcely spoken to him since the night of the midsummer festival, and now his wedding to Eden was on the horizon. He did not blame Thomas, but he desperately wanted his approval. His blessing. He wanted his friend back.
Thomas crossed the room and extended his hand.
Gabriel stared at it in disbelief for a beat before clasping it.
“Take care of her,” Thomas said quietly.
“With my life,” Gabriel said, his voice rough, his gaze unwavering, though a slight tremble passed through his hands, betraying the weight of what he offered.
Thomas nodded. “I believe you, and therefore you have earned my blessing.” He hesitated, then added, “I am truly pleased to welcome you to the family. To call you brother in truth.”
Gabriel’s eyes burned. “Your blessing means more to me than you will ever know.” He grinned. “And it is my honor to call you brother.”
Thomas clapped him on the back, hard enough to make Gabriel stumble.
“Good,” Thomas said, his voice suspiciously hoarse. “Because you are family now.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, Gabriel stood on the sun-warmed steps of Blackstone Manor before a gathered assembly of villagers, tenants, and local gentry. The air was thick with midsummer scents, lavender, cut hay, and the distant tang of roasting meats. A light breeze stirred the trees and brushed across his face. News of his courtship with Eden had spread, and curiosity had drawn a crowd. Neighbors, skeptics, and well-wishers alike, each bearing witness to the new chapter he and Eden were about to begin. Children perched on stone walls, wide-eyed, and elderly matrons clutched walking sticks with white-knuckled anticipation. All waited to see whether the once-disgraced marquess could win back the community’s trust.
Gabriel’s heart pounded as he looked out over the sea of expectant faces. For a moment, doubt surged. Was he truly worthy of their trust, their faith? These were his people. The people who had seen him at his lowest, who had whispered about his failings. The people who counted on him. And now they waited, watching. He caught Eden’s eye where she stood with Lady Pavington and Thomas. Her smile a beacon of encouragement that steadied his breath and reminded him of how far he had come.
He drew a deep breath and stepped forward.
“I come before you,” he began, voice carrying strong and steady across the lawn, “not merely as the Marquess of Blackstone, but as a man who has erred, learned, and returned with a heart full of purpose.”
The crowd quieted, leaning in.
“Blackstone Manor will not fall into decay,” Gabriel continued. “It will be restored. Revitalized. And it will stand as a testament to new beginnings, not old mistakes.”
Murmurs of approval rippled through the crowd.
“I pledge to invest not only in the manor and my tenants, but in the village that shaped me, and in the people whose faith I now strive to earn anew,” Gabriel said.
Cheers erupted, loud and heartfelt.
A child’s voice rang out from near the fountain, “Hurrah for Lord Blackstone!” Laughter followed, good-natured and free, as if a long-held breath had finally been exhaled by the entire village. Gabriel caught the eye of a middle-aged woman near the front—Mrs. Weatherby, who had once refused him entry to the parish meeting. She gave a small, respectful nod, her lips twitching in a reluctant smile. It was a benediction.
Gabriel smiled, his chest swelling with pride and hope. He thought of the long road behind him—the regret, the redemption—and how close he had come to losing everything that mattered.
He looked directly at Thomas and Lady Pavington.
“And,” he said, his voice thickening with emotion, “I pledge myself to Lady Eden Thornton with honor, devotion, and eternal gratitude. As my marchioness, she will be the jewel of Blackstone.”
Eden pressed a hand to her heart, tears glistening in her eyes.
As the crowd erupted into applause, Gabriel descended the steps to join her.
He took her hands in his, the late afternoon sun casting a halo around them.
“Eden,” he said, a mischievous grin tilting his lips, “will you vow to love me forever?”
