Good.
She crept down the servants’ staircase, heart pounding wildly.She had done this dozens of times before, but tonight it felt more important than ever.The back door gave a quiet groan as she eased it open.The cool night air slapped her cheeks, but she wrapped the cloak tighter around herself and stepped into the darkness.
Normally, she did this at dawn.The streets were quiet at this hour, but not empty.A carriage or two rumbled far off.A watchman’s distant call echoed through the square.
Bea kept to the shadows, moving quickly and determinedly toward Gutter Lane.
Toward the printshop.
Toward the place where she had created half her destruction, and where she would now attempt her redemption.
Her boots struck the cobblestones softly, rhythmically.
Fear gripped her.But beneath it—beneath the terror, beneath the guilt, beneath everything was resolve.
She had hurt him.She had doubted him.She had wounded him in a way she could not undo.
But she had one thing left.One weapon she understood better than anyone.Her art.Her truth.Her heart.Tonight, she would put all three into his hands.
After jumpingfrom the hackney near the corner, she reached the printshop, breathless, a thin sheen of sweat cooling on her neck despite the chill.It was dark, of course, but the slot was always left open for deliveries.
Her hands shook as she eased it open and slipped her drawing inside.
The air around the shop smelled of ink, metal, and stale heat from the press.Familiar, comforting, and terrifying all at once.
“Please let him see this.”Her voice cracked.“Please let him understand.”
She hesitated one last second, then turned and fled into the night.
When she reachedher house again, Bea’s heart was racing.She paused on the steps and looked back.For the first time since her courtship with Nicholas had begun, she knew she’d done the right thing.
She had fought for him.For herself.For both of them.For the truth.
Whatever happened tomorrow?—
It would be a beginning.
Or an end.
But not silence.
And Beatrix Winslow, the same young woman who had once hidden behind ink and anonymity, finally understood?—
If she wanted something, truly wanted it, she had to be brave enough to put her heart on the line.Even if it shattered.
