I will see you. Always. And I will not hide. I will not forget this gesture, nor will I allow them to take you away from me.
He would not hesitate for a moment longer. He would find Lady Phoebe and share his soul, his heart, and everything he possessed with her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Phoebe sat on the edge of her aunt’s narrow bed, the sunlight streaming weakly through the thin curtains.
Her fingers idly traced the hem of her plain gown, and the quiet of the country estate pressed around her like a weight. She had grown used to the stillness, to the sense of being removed from everything she loved—and yet, the emptiness gnawed at her.
A knock came at the door. She startled and jumped slightly as the stillness was broken.
“Lady Phoebe,” said the maid outside, “you’ve a visitor.”
Phoebe’s heart leapt. Surely it must be Genevieve. She hurried to the door, hope fluttering in her chest, only to freeze in shock.
Standing in the hallway, calm, confident, the very embodiment of controlled composure, was Sebastian.
Her lips parted, and for a long moment, she could not find words. “Sebastian…” she finally breathed.
Before she could move, the door behind him burst open, and her aunt Celia stormed in, skirts rustling, eyes wide with scandal. “Phoebe! Your parents specifically forbade any visitors! They warned me that someone might come looking for you and I swore to them that I would not let anyone trespass.” Aunt Celia glared at the Duke, clearly not understanding who he was or why he had audaciously invaded her home. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
Sebastian stepped forward slightly, so that he loomed over Aunt Celia. “I will not leave without seeing her. I must speak with Lady Phoebe immediately.”
Her aunt’s face blushed with indignation. “You have no right”
For a few seconds, he only responded with a glare, needing to suppress what he wanted to say. He clenched his teeth so hard the pressure carved his jawline into a sharper point.
Sebastian did not need to speak, At the storm in his sea-green eyes, her aunt took a step back.
“I am the Duke of Talwyn. And I have come for Lady Phoebe. I will speak to her alone.”
Phoebe’s mouth fell open. She glanced at her aunt, then at Sebastian. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Your Grace,” her aunt said, suddenly adjusting her posture. Her voice shifted to politeness laced with awe. “I—I did not realize… forgive me. I only…” She hesitated, frowning, unsure how to proceed.
Sebastian’s emerald eyes swept over her aunt. Phoebe could see that Sebastian was sizing her up, trying to measure how much fuss she would kick up before leaving them in peace. “I require only a private word with your niece. If you would be so kind.”
Her aunt blinked, then sighed, clearly defeated but eager to placate him. “Of course. Of course, Your Grace. I apologize for…detaining you.”
She backed out of the room, fussing with her skirts, and closed the door behind her.
Phoebe turned fully toward him, heart pounding, words catching in her throat. “I?—”
Sebastian reached into his coat pocket and drew out a small, familiar silver pendant. Her eyes widened, and she stepped toward him.
“My necklace?” she whispered. The sight of Sebastian holding her grandfather’s pendant was almost too good to be true.
He held it out, his expression unreadable. “I thought it best that I delivered this to you myself. Too precious to risk it being lost or delayed. I wanted you to have it… safely.”
Phoebe clutched it to her chest, feeling the cool metal against her warmth. “How? how did you...”
“The trail was not difficult,” he said softly. “Your parents lack imagination and I did not have to look far to find where they sold your belongings.”
He stared at her and she thought she could see the longing in his eyes. “I could not allow someone else to deliver it. And selfishly, I did not want another soul to see the joy in your eyes when you once more beheld your most precious possession.”
Phoebe’s hand lingered on the pendant, gripping it, then she stepped back slightly, struggling with her feelings. “Thank you for this. For coming here. I know that things between us were left unresolved or at least I feel like they?—”
“I needed to speak with you,” he interjected, his voice low, urgent. “Honestly, finally. Unmasked. Truthfully. I did not act in a timely manner before and now… now look where we are.”
