Madeleine Sophie Charlotte Hunt!
A war drum.
Sebastian’s jaw locked.
He knew that tone. Had heard it in parlors and ballrooms, dressed in silk and smiles, but no less cruel for the mask it wore. It was the voice of the Ton when a girl stepped out of line. When she didn’t behave. When she dared to feel. To want.
And Maddie—his Maddie—stood right in the center of it.
She spoke. Something about an avalanche. Her voice trembled—ah, her voice. But she was trying. He could hear it in every syllable, every shaky breath. Trying to explain and make sense of something senseless to people who would never understand. At least, he saw no understanding on her family’s faces.
Should a father not have pulled his daughter into his arms? And her mother? Should she not have cared less about what it looked like and more about the fact that his daughter had survived? Her brother. No words.
Sebastian’s grip turned brutal. The leather reins bit into his palm. His horse nickered softly, shifting again, but he didn’t loosen his hold.
And Paisley…
Sebastian’s breath left him in a quiet, vicious hiss.
The man only worked on his nerves.
He didn’t need to see the man’s expression to know what it would be. The look of a man who’d already calculated how this moment could serve him.
If Lady Ashley hadn’t intervened, he would have stepped up and carried her off, consequences be damned.
It was the first moment Sebastian breathed. Not fully. Not deeply.But enough. Enough to keep him from marching into the hall and dragging Maddie back into his arms like a lunatic. But he could only stare helplessly as Maddie left, leaving her stunned mother and scowling family behind.
And him.
It all happened so fast, as if he entered a dream. But not like at the lodge. A nightmare.
Confound it.
He needed a plan.
Not a fight.
How many years had she spent learning to swallow her voice just to survive?
The reins creaked under his grip again.
He hadn’t protected her from this. Hadn’t even prepared her for the storm they were riding into. But he would. Starting now. Even if he had to smile through gritted teeth and shake the devil’s hand to do it.
She was going to walk out of this house with her head held high. As his. And no one—absolutelyno one—was going to make her feel unworthy again.
Not if he had breath left in his body.
Because if there was one thing he knew now with unrelenting clarity, it was this: he wasn’t leaving this place without her. Not as a memory. Not as a mistake. Not as the girl who slipped through his fingers because he couldn’t hold his ground in front of her mother.
He needed to secure her as soon as possible.
Thomas cleared his throat behind them. “A beer?”
Sebastian didn’t even glance his way. “Not now. I want to see to Maddie’s comfort.”
It wasn’t a lie. It was just the wrong truth.
What he meant—what he couldn’t quite say aloud at the moment—was that he couldn’t bear to be apartfrom her just yet. That every second she stood within arm’s reach felt like borrowed grace, and the moment he let her go, the world would snap back into shape and remind him that he was not the one in control.
