“Papa!”
Edward pushed himself upright at once, disoriented by the gray light filtering through the curtains. “Julian? What is it?”
Julian crossed the room in three uneven strides and thrust the letter toward him. “She’s gone,” he sobbed. “She left. She promised she wouldn’t leave, and she did.”
The words did not make sense at first.
“Who has gone?” Edward demanded, already knowing the answer before Julian forced it into the open.
“Miss Fenton.”
The name struck like a physical blow.
Julian thrust the letter into Edward’s hands, his small fingers trembling.
Edward unfolded it quickly, forcing himself to focus despite the pounding in his chest.
My dearest boy—
He read every word. She had written of bravery and music, of promises kept in the heart even when distance intervened. She told Julian he must trust his father. That he must keep playing the piano. That she would carry him with her always.
There was no bitterness in it. No anger.
Only sorrow.
The door opened softly behind them.
Edward did not look up at first. He finished the final line addressed to his son before lowering the page.
Clara Bennet stood just inside the room, pale but composed, another sealed letter in her hand.
“For you, Your Grace,” she said quietly.
Edward rose at once and crossed to her, taking it with fingers that felt far steadier than he was. He recognized the handwriting instantly.
He broke the seal without ceremony.
Edward,
Forgive me for the manner of my departure. I know it lacks the courage you have always shown me, but if I had faced you, I would not have found the strength to go.
You gave me shelter when I had nowhere to stand. You believed me when doubt would have been easier. You treated me not as a burden, nor as a scandal to be managed, but as a person worthy of protection and trust. I will carry that kindness with me for the rest of my life.
What has happened these past days has confirmed what I feared most—that my presence in your household brings danger and ruin too close to your door. I cannot bear to seeyour name entangled further in whispers meant for me. You have endured enough speculation, enough grief. I will not be the cause of more.
Julian deserves a life unaffected by gossip. He deserves joy without explanation, friendship without question. If my absence spares him even a portion of what the ton is now saying, then it is a small sacrifice compared to what he has already lost.
As for William and the truth surrounding my parents’ deaths, I will not abandon that pursuit. The information you uncovered has given me direction where once there was only fog. For that, I am more grateful than words can express. I will follow the thread until it leads to certainty. If there is justice to be found, I will find it.
Please do not think I leave in anger. I leave in affection deeper than is wise to admit. Ashford has been the first place in years where my sleep was not ruled by terror. My nightmares lessened there. My laughter returned there. That is because of you.
And because of him.
Tell Julian that I expect to hear of every new piece he learns on the pianoforte. Tell him his mother would be proud of the boy he is becoming. Tell him that bravery does not mean never being afraid—it means continuing even when you are.
You once told me you would do anything to keep me safe. Allow me, just this once, to do the same for you.
Lady Victoria is a good and kind woman. She would make a gentle mother for Julian and a steady partner for you. I hope you will not think me presumptuous for saying so. I wish for you both a future unmarred by my past.
