“By cutting herself off entirely?”
“By allowing us to exist separately. I visited in secret, when I could. Nicholas knew who I was, but he understood Margaret’s reasons for keeping quiet. He never spoke of me because Margaret asked him not to.” She pressed her lips together, fighting for control. “I was there when Oliver was born. I was there for his christening, his first steps, his first words. I have loved that boy since the moment I first held him, and I willnotabandon him now. Not to you. Not to anyone.”
Thaddeus was silent. His gaze remained fixed on her face. Then he moved—not toward her, but to the chair behind his desk. He lowered himself into it slowly, heavily, as though the weight of her revelation had become a physical burden.
“You truly care for him,” he said at last.
“More than anything in this world.”
“And your sister—Margaret—she trusted you. Trusted you to keep the truth of your family name away from him, protect his reputation?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you here now?”
Maribel looked away, toward the windows where autumn light spilled across the carpet in pale golden squares.
“Because my sister is dead,” she said. “And the promise I made to her matters less than the promise I made to myself the moment I learned Oliver had been given to you.”
“What promise?”
She met his eyes again. “That I would not let him grow up believing he is unworthy of love.”
The words hung between them.
Thaddeus’s hands lay flat upon the desk, his fingers spread as though bracing against something. The silence stretched, broken only by the distant sound of a servant’s footsteps in the corridor beyond and the soft pop of the fire in the grate.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed. The hostility remained, but something else had crept in beneath it—a weariness that aged him beyond his four-and-thirty years.
“You understand what you are asking. The position you are placing us both in.”
“I understand.”
“Your reputation will suffer. What little social standing you retain will be further diminished. Lady Eleanor may not be able to shield you from the consequences.”
Maribel’s chin lifted. “I have survived my father’s disgrace, my family’s ruin, and my sister’s death. I suspect I can survive a few more whispers.”
Thaddeus studied her. His fingers drummed once against the desk—a single, restless movement—before going still.
“Very well.” He pulled a sheet of paper toward him, though he did not take up his pen. “If I am to agree to this arrangement—and I have not yet said that I will—there must be terms. Conditions. Boundaries that will not be crossed.”
“I expected nothing less.”
“First.” He held up a single finger. “Your role in this household will be strictly defined. You are here for Oliver’s benefit. You will attend to his care, his education, his… emotional needs—all the things you believe I am incapable of providing.” His mouth twisted. “You will not interfere in the running of my household, my estate, or my personal affairs. Is that understood?”
“Understood.”
“Second.” Another finger rose. “There will be no familiarity between us. You will address me as ‘Your Grace’ or ‘sir.’ I will address you as ‘Lady Maribel.’ We are not friends. We are not confidants. We are two people bound by circumstance and obligation. Nothing more.”
Maribel narrowed her eyes, but she inclined her head. “As you wish,Your Grace.”
“Third.” A third finger. “You will make no claims upon Oliver’s future. His guardianship remains with me. Any decisions regarding his education, his prospects, his eventual situation in life—those decisions are mine to make. You may advise, if I seek your counsel. You may not dictate.”
This one cut deeper. Margaret had wanted choices for Oliver—real choices, not the constrained paths of rank and expectation. But Maribel stood in this room with nothing to bargain with except her own willingness to endure.
“I understand.”
“Fourth.” Thaddeus rose from his chair and rounded the desk, coming to stand before her once more. This close, she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, and the disparity in their heights—in their positions—pressed upon her like a physical weight.
