“Yes.” Nathaniel rose from his chair, his gaze sweeping the room. “I have given a great deal of thought to the concerns you have raised during your visit, Lady Crane. About the household. About the children. About Miss Collard.”
Serena held her breath.
“And I have come to a decision.” Nathaniel’s voice was steady, certain. “A decision that I believe will address your concerns while also honouring my own responsibilitiesandwishes.”
He crossed the room to where Serena stood, taking her hand in his. She saw Lady Crane’s eyes widen, saw Sir Harold’s mouth drop open, saw the children’s faces transform with hope and confusion.
“Miss Collard has done me the honour of agreeing to become my wife.”
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then Lady Crane exploded.
“This is outrageous! This is exactly the kind of impropriety I warned you about! You cannot seriously intend to marry your governess—”
“I can, and I do.” Nathaniel’s voice cut through her protests like a blade. “Miss Collard is the woman I love. She is the woman who brought this family back from the brink of despair. She is the woman my nieces and nephew adore, the woman my brother’s wife would have been proud to call sister. And she will be my marchioness.”
“Society will never accept—”
“Society will accept what I tell them to accept.” Nathaniel’s eyes were hard. “I am the Marquess of Greystone. My family has held this title for centuries. If I choose to marry a woman ofintelligence, compassion, and impeccable character, society will adjust.”
Lady Crane turned to her husband, her face purple with rage. “Harold! Say something!”
Sir Harold was quiet for a long moment. Then, slowly, he rose from his chair.
“I think,” he said carefully, “that Lord Greystone has made his position clear. And I think—” He paused, looking at the children’s hopeful faces, at Serena’s tearful smile, at Nathaniel’s unwavering determination. “I think Eleanor would have approved.”
“Harold!”
“No, Elspeth.” Sir Harold’s voice was firmer than Serena had ever heard it. “I have gone along with your schemes because I believed you were acting in the children’s best interests. But I see now that you were acting in your own interests—your wounded pride, your anger at being passed over in Edward’s will. That is not a reason to destroy these children’s happiness.”
Elspeth looked as though she had been struck. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am entirely serious.” Sir Harold moved to stand beside Nathaniel, his expression resolute. “I will not support your letter to Sir Edmund. I will not support any challenge to Lord Greystone’s guardianship. And I think—” He took a deep breath. “I think it is time for us to return to Bath.”
The room erupted.
Rosie let out a shriek of joy and launched herself at Serena, wrapping her small arms around her waist. “You will be our aunt! You will stay forever!”
Samuel was smiling—actually smiling—for the first time since the Cranes’ arrival. “Congratulations, Miss Collard and Uncle Nate.”
And Ella—fierce, guarded Ella—walked across the room and hugged Nathaniel so tightly he staggered.
“I knew it,” she whispered against his chest. “I knew you would fight for her.”
Lady Crane stood alone, her face a mask of fury and humiliation. For a moment, Serena almost felt sorry for her—this woman who had wanted so desperately to matter, to be needed, to have the family she believed she deserved.
Then Lady Crane’s eyes met hers, and the hatred there extinguished any sympathy.
“This is not over,” Lady Crane said, her voice low and venomous. “You may have won this battle, Miss Collard, but society has a long memory. You will never be accepted. You will always be the governess who trapped a marquess into marriage. And one day—one day—you will regret this choice.”
“Mayhap,” Serena said quietly. “But I think I shall take my chances.”
Lady Crane’s lips thinned. Then, without another word, she turned and swept from the room.
Sir Harold lingered a moment longer. “I apologise,” he said to Nathaniel. “For everything. I ought to have stopped her sooner.”
“You stopped her when it mattered.” Nathaniel extended his hand. “That is what counts.”
