Hannah gnawed her bottom lip, and Eoin instantly felt a stab of guilt. He hated seeing her without her confidence. But he was struggling so hard to regain his own.
“I—” Hannah swallowed audibly and then began anew. “I wanted to tell you that I spoke with my parents and my cousin in the carriage ride here. We want you to decide how to handle this situation as long as you stop your aunt from causing further harm. We will not seek for her sins to be publicly aired.”
Eoin had girded himself for more disappointment. He hadn’t expected this. “But your family has sought justice for years. I’ve always understood that, Hannah.”
“The perpetuator is dead,” Hannah pointed out. “I should have recognized that long ago.”
“Your family suffered because your father and uncle were simply trying to survive. My grandfather insisted that they receive extreme punishment for poaching a few hares. In contrast, my aunt has confessed to killing people to obtain wealth and power.” Confusion doused Eoin. “Why would you not demand that she receive the strongest sentence possible?”
“Eoin, do you know why my father never pursued the rumors about the Aucourtes?” Hannah asked.
Eoin paused, thinking about what Hannah had told him. “He didn’t want to jeopardize the Black Sheep, since it was still a relatively new establishment. I imagine your safety and your mother’s also played a role in his decision.”
Hannah nodded. “He cared more about the people in his life than he did about old wounds, even extremely painful ones.”
“But revealing my aunt’s perfidy will only ensure the Black Sheep and your safety,” Eoin pointed out, still immensely befuddled.
“But you, Eoin—you are one of those people who I care about. Quite ardently. I do not wish to harm you. I never did. My father, my mother, and Sophia, they all recognize your importance to me. We mutually agreed that you would decide the fate of the Purveyor if they turned out to be your family member. As I said, our only stipulation is that Eliza can no longer wreak harm. But you may keep her villainy quiet.”
He was important. To Hannah. Enough that she would entirely give up her pursuit of the Aucourtes simply to preserve his feelings.
Eoin felt shaky—as if a single touch would cause him to crumble. Such fragmentation would not be destructive but transformative. Did he have the bravery to emerge anew?
“You were not swayed by Aunt Eliza’s tale?” Eoin asked as he struggled to fully comprehend the fact that Hannah and her family would sacrifice so much just for him.
“I can understand, to an extent, the desperation that she experienced at the hands of her father and husband. I witnessed what my cousin Charlotte endured when she was almost forced to wed Hawley, but Charlotte never hurt others in her bid for freedom. I cannot condone the suffering that your auntknowingly wrought. She deserves punishment, Eoin.” Hannah began to reach for him, but she snapped back her fingers before they could touch him.
She’d always been like that, offering him comfort even before he, himself, realized that he needed solace. No wonder he’d come to love her so readily. She was spirited yet immensely kind and compassionate—the perfect companion to his reserved and overly analytical nature.
“I agree that my aunt needs to face the consequences of her behavior.” For the moment, Eoin chose to focus on the external problem rather than the emotions bubbling inside him.
“I could send Aunt Eliza to one of my remote properties and hire guards to watch her,” Eoin said. “But she is exceedingly clever, and I would not be surprised if she could revive her operations while under observation. And we are at war. If she has sold important information that would put our soldiers and sailors at risk, we must adequately warn the military. I see no choice.”
“Your aunt may very well be right. The king may not reward you for your honesty,” Hannah pointed out.
“Unlike my grandfather, I don’t view my reputation by how others perceive me,” Eoin said. “If I am to value myself, I must make choices that I think are right. I cannot in good conscious try to hide my aunt’s crimes when they can continue to injure people.”
To Eoin’s surprise, he noticed a sheen in Hannah’s eyes that didn’t come from her lantern’s glow. “That is why I could not help but fall in love with you. I could never abide peers, but you are a true noble, in the original sense of the word.”
“You… you fell in love with me?” Eoin’s heart swelled in his chest to the point that it almost physically hurt. He yearned to gather Hannah into his arms, but the curve of the stairs made that nigh impossible.
Hannah clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t have burdened you with that.”
“It’s not a burden,” Eoin said quickly. He could manage to lean a few inches and kiss her. But an audience lurked upstairs, and his emotions were a frightful mess. “I… I… love you too.”
It was surprising how hard it was to say those words.
“Is that why you asked me to marry you?” Hannah asked. “Not because of my reputation?”
“I am not sure if I can properly separate the two,” Eoin admitted as his stomach simultaneously fluttered with joy and twisted into knots, leaving it a wretched mess. “I know that I wished to keep you by my side regardless, but I also do not want to be the cause of your name being sullied. I would have eventually proposed marriage, but the gossip spurred me to act more quickly.”
“And here I am, rushing things again with my questions.” Hannah grinned, her smile not as bright as usual but still a true one.
“I must admit that I am a muddle right now,” Eoin confessed.
Hannah reached out, and this time did pat his arm. The simple gesture sent a rush of warm comfort rushing through him.
“You have endured more than your fair share of emotional revelations these past few days.” Hannah gave him an additional squeeze. “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss our relationship when things are more settled. I am impulsive, but I know you need time to employ your logic. And I will always find the patience to wait for you, darling.”
