But Melanie disagreed. It was important, yes, and she was thankful that everyone was alright, but that was not all that mattered. “What happened?” she asked again, her fingers tightening around his. “Just tell me?”
Harry hesitated, but only for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was low and, of course, deliberate.
He told her an almost unbelievable tale about Goldie’s father, the Duke of Crossings. It involved Goldie’s older sister, Gardenia, and it involved Caroline and Lord Helton, along with a few other gentlemen who were friends to Reed—and to Malum, though he didn’t say as much outright. It even involved that horrible nursemaid, Mrs. Green, who hadn’t, as it turned out, been sent by the agency. Whenever Melanie tried interrupting with a question, he went silent, so eventually, she gave in and simply listened.
After a while, she found herself content just to study him, her heart filling with overwhelming affection at the smallest of things. The way his eyes tracked hers, the faint movement of his mouth as he considered his words, the shadow of barely-there whiskers that hinted at an overdue shave. It was enough simply to watch and listen, almost believing that he was hers.
Dearly. Passionately. Desperately…
“The bad news,” he said at last, looking both frustrated and a little guilty, “is that we lost Northwoods.” He looked away briefly before continuing. “He managed to board a ship boundfor America. We’ve already sent someone after him, but…” His shoulders were bunching up with the tension, his jaw ticking. “America’s bloody massive. He’d be a fool to come back to England, but the man deserves to rot in jail just as much as Crossings. I should have known. I should have realized what he was capable of before?—”
“But why?” Her throat burned, but she couldn’t hold back. “Why you?”
Malum’s gaze dropped, then a faint, almost bittersweet smile tugged at his lips. “The crown would never pursue a duke, and I needed… I need him behind bars.”
“But why?” Her thoughts churned. Why would he take on such a monumental burden? Why risk everything for something that didn’t even seem to touch him directly?
His silver eyes flicked back to hers. In his eyes, she felt he was baring emotions that had been buried for years. “So my brother can come home,” he said softly.
The words hit her like a revelation. She studied him, her chest aching at the quiet pain in his voice. It wasn’t enmity that had driven him—it had been love. A deep, unyielding loyalty that she understood all too well.
The name formed on her lips before she could stop herself. “Reginald Preston? But he was lost at sea?—”
“No.” Malum shook his head, the motion slow, deliberate.
He paused, his gaze distant, as though recalling a bitter memory. “Before my father died, he gave Reggie an ultimatum: learn to captain a ship while overseeing some ‘special shipments,’ or be cut off entirely.” His jaw ticked. “Reggie wasn’t even twenty. By the time he realized what those shipments actually were, it was too late. He was already in too deep, with no way out.”
Harry exhaled. “When he wrote to me asking for help, I made arrangements—ensured it looked as though he’d drowned.It was the only way to protect him.” He met her gaze, looking almost… vulnerable. “We’ve kept in touch, and now… he’s finally free.”
“So this wasn’t about revenge?”
“Not at first.” The corner of his mouth lifted, a hint of self-deprecation in his expression. “But Crossings slipped through my fingers too many times. I didn’t act when I should have. If I’d just stopped him—if I’d taken him out—or realized Northwoods posed such a real danger, I might have prevented what happened to your father, your family…” His voice faltered as he dropped his gaze. “I made too many mistakes.”
“No.” Melanie touched a fingertip to his lips, her voice hoarse but resolute. “You are not a murderer.”
She saw his throat work as he swallowed hard, the weight of his emotions so heavy she could feel them.
“You saved me,” she added, her words raw and uneven.
“No.” His silver eyes lifted to hers, filled with a torment she wanted so desperately to ease. “You saved yourself.”
“Maybe,” she rasped, her throat burning with the effort.
But in the silence that followed, she remembered the way her brother had looked to Malum, the way Helton and the others had fallen in line without hesitation. She’d seen it in the chaos of the fire—the steady, commanding presence that had rallied people, even in the face of despair.
And then there was his voice. She could still hear it, the way it had cut through her fear on that trellis, refusing to let her give up.
He wasn’t just any man. He was a force—a leader who made the impossible seem within reach.
Her lips trembled as she looked at him, her heart aching at the burden he carried. “You didn’t just save me, Harry. You saved everyone who needed you. That’s what you do.”
He swallowed again, obviously struggling to dismiss the responsibility he felt for all of it.
Melanie’s lips curved into the faintest smile, her voice soft but teasing. “It’s my job to keep you from blaming yourself, isn’t it?”
Harry stilled, surprise flickering across his face. Then doubt crept in, so quickly, she almost missed it.
“If you want it to be,” he said after a beat, his tone low, almost uncertain.
