She glanced toward the door where the boys had vanished, a small, defiant smile touching her lips. “But I wanted Brook to smile again. I wanted him to feel powerful in a house where he had felt like a victim. If I told you, he wouldn’t have gotten hisrevenge. He needed to see her be the one who was afraid. He needed to be the one to chase the ‘monster’ away. “
Rowan stared at her, the silence stretching between them. “Lucy?—”
“I know what you’re going to say, but it wasn’t just about Brook’s revenge,” Lucy added. “If I had simply confronted her, a woman like Judith would have denied everything. She would have called Brook a liar or a difficult child, and it would have been her word against a boy’s. Also, if I had come to you privately and you had broken it off based on a ‘rumor,’ she would have left here in a fit of vitriol. She is a woman of immense influence, Rowan. She could have poisoned your reputation across every ballroom in London before you even had a chance to court someone else.”
She looked at the shattered crystal on the floor. “Believe me, I had thought about all of the options. By doing it this way, she was the one who fled. She is the one telling people the house is haunted. It makes her look flighty and superstitious, not like a woman scorned. It was the only way to protect you and the boys simultaneously.”
Rowan listened, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. He took a long, slow breath, the tension finally leaving his shoulders.
“I understand your logic, Lucy,” he said quietly. “Perhaps you are right about the fallout. But you should have still come to me first. Regardless of the scandal or the ‘suitability’ of the match, my sons’ safety is my primary responsibility. I would have ratherfaced every wagging tongue in the Ton than have you or Brook believe for one second that I would prioritize a title over my own flesh and blood.”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “We are supposed to be partners in this, aren’t we?”
Lucy felt a pang of genuine guilt. Seeing the raw honesty in his eyes, she realized that in her haste to be the ‘fixer,’ she had underestimated the man standing in front of her. She had treated him like a client to be managed rather than a father who loved his children.
“I am sorry,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to the lapels of his coat. “I apologize, Rowan. I should have trusted you with the truth the moment I heard it. I suppose I’ve spent so much time being the one trying to fix things that I forgot you are more than capable of protecting your own.”
Rowan let out a breath that sounded like a final, weary surrender. He stepped back, the distance between them feeling suddenly vast and cold.
“Well, it’s over, Lucy,” he said. “I know it has been over two weeks, but I won’t hold you to the deal. I won't make you stay, and I certainly won’t make you marry me just to satisfy some desperate deal we made in a moment of madness.”
Lucy blinked, her heart giving a strange, painful tug. “Rowan?—”
“No,” he interrupted, raising a hand to silence her. He walked toward the window, staring out at the sprawling gardens that Judith had so flippantly planned to tear apart. “This was a hopeless endeavor from the start. I thought I could simply replace a piece of the puzzle, find a woman with the right lineage and the right temperament, slot her into the role of duchess, and everything would be mended. But look at the cost. My son was slapped across the face.”
He turned back to her. “My sons are terrified of the woman I brought into their lives. You are exhausted from playing a part that isn’t yours. I will not look for a wife anymore. I don’t need one. If the price of a duchess is the safety and happiness of my children, then I shall remain a widower for the rest of my days.”
He leaned his weight against the mantle, looking defeated. “You are free, Lucy. Truly free. I’ll have the carriage readied for you and your aunt. You’ve done more for this family than I ever had the right to ask, even if the match ended in a haunting.”
The finality in his tone was like a door slamming shut. He wasn’t angry anymore; he was just... done. He had given up on the idea of a partner, and for some reason, the thought of Rowan facing the silence of that massive house alone made Lucy feel more distressed than his fury ever had.
“You don’t mean that,” she said softly. “You think you can do this all alone?”
“I have to,” he replied, not meeting her eyes. “Because clearly, I am a poor judge of character, and I refuse to put Brook, Daniel, or Anthony through another Lady Judith.”
Lucy watched him, her mind racing. She thought of Brook’s trembling hands in the library, Daniel’s desperate need for an audience, and Anthony’s silent, simmering rage. Most of all, she thought of how they spoke of their late mother. How they had wished they knew her. Felt what it was like. Rowan was trying to be the lungs, the bones, and the skin of this family all at once, and he was suffocating under the weight of it. He was too proud to admit he was drowning, and he was too scared to let anyone else into the water.
He was ready to give up, to retreat into a life of cold duty and quiet halls. A strange, reckless heat rose in Lucy’s chest. The logic of the matchmaker, usually so precise and detached, suddenly tangled with something far more primal and protective. Before her brain could veto the impulse, the words were out.
“I’ll marry you.”
The sentence hung in the air like a physical object. Rowan froze. He didn’t move for several seconds, his back still turned to her, as if he were certain he had misheard. Even Selina, who had been hovering by the sideboard, let out a tiny, muffled squeak of surprise.
Rowan turned slowly, his brow furrowed in utter bewilderment. “What did you say?”
“I said I’ll marry you, Your Grace,” Lucy repeated, her voice gaining strength even as her heart hammered against her ribs. She took a step toward him, her chin tilted up. “You said you won't look for a wife anymore because you don’t trust your judgment and you don’t want to bring a stranger into your sons’ lives. Well, I am not a stranger anymore, and I love your sons. The boys trust me. I know their favorite hiding spots, I know which one needs a firm hand and which one needs a quiet word, and I already know exactly how you take your tea.”
Rowan stared at her, his dark eyes searching her face for the punchline of a joke that wasn’t coming. “Lucy, you cannot be serious.”
“I am perfectly serious,” she countered, the plan forming in her mind even as she spoke. “But we will make our own deal. A business arrangement, if you will. I will be your duchess. I will manage this household, I will ensure your sons are protected from the ‘Judiths’ of the world, and I will stand beside you at whatever dull functions the Duke of Langridge must attend.”
She took another breath. “In exchange, I will continue my work. I will not be a decorative ornament locked away in the country. I will keep my matchmaking business, I will keep my own income, and I will continue to live my life with the freedom I’ve earned. We will be partners, Rowan. You get the help you won’t admit you need, and the boys get a mother who actually cares for them.”
She paused, her gaze softening just a fraction. “I won't bother you. You can have your silence, your study, and your solitudewhenever you wish. You already have your heirs, so we do not have obligations to fulfill. We don’t have to pretend there is... anything else between us. It will be a perfect, professional union.”
Rowan’s gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before he looked back into her eyes, his expression unreadable. He didn’t move. He stood as still as the statues in his gallery, his gaze boring into Lucy with sharp wariness. He let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-scoff.
“A business arrangement?” he repeated, his voice low and raspy. He began to pace the length of the rug, his boots crunching on a few stray shards of crystal that hadn’t yet been cleared. “Lucy, you are talking about a lifetime. You are talking about binding your name, your reputation, and your very life to a man you’ve spent the last three weeks arguing with.”
