Page 153 of The Betrothal

The pairs around the room all took up their positions as Seb rose, helping Ben up from the floor and planting a sweet kiss on his mouth.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered against him.

“Seconded,” I agreed before sneaking off to check on the students.

The class largely got it, the roll was easier than the escape, but better a back-up plan than nothing.

Seb and Ben had disappeared by the time the last of the class had left. I quietly sprayed the mats and wiped them down. The advertising signage read ‘conflict resolution guidance’. But if people chose to stay late when my men and I happened to be training to escape attackers, then so be it.

Collecting my phone from the sideboard, I slipped my rings onto my wedding finger.

Black, white gold and yellow gold – one for each of my men.

I closed the door to the gym and searched the offices either side, turning off the lights with a sigh.

The last office in the east wing was one the programme leads used.

A pair remained.

“Hey, Eli, Ellie, are you not done for the day?”

They both looked up from their screens.

“There’s a few bits of paperwork for the next scheme; I didn’t want to overlook anything.” Eli smiled. Ellie watched on quietly.

“How many applications did we get?” I asked. Alex was always hush-hush about it. I knew he felt a heavy sense of guilt that we couldn’t help more of the kids.

“Hundreds.” Eli wore the same wounded look that Alex did when he talked about the number of kids coming out of the care system without placements, something that ultimately forced them into national service.

“When are we finished with the rooms upstairs?” We’d been converting the wings into living spaces. The west wing was full of workshops on the ground floor, teaching rooms and communal spaces for the apprentice and leavers programmes we had set up. The east wing had become a more specialised passion project.

“Couple of months, maybe? I told Alex we could house the kids at the cottage if we experience any more delays, but you know Alex.” Ellie frowned.

“You could all stay in the manor with us. There’s a ridiculous amount of space still.” I smiled warmly.

“Thanks, Izzy, but we will have the pods up well before they arrive. Alex is just being Alex,” Eli reassured me. The twins could tap in for one another with such ease I wasn’t sure there wasn’t some truth to the twins-reading-minds rumours.

“I can’t wait.” I really couldn’t. “We’ve got a meeting with social services next month to finalise everything. They’ve been working with Ben on suitability, he’s really quite pleased. And if this works, we want to build a new block.”

Eli’s face lit up. “You’ve offered dozens of teens an alternative to the NSCTA. The cottage is full of people who are ageing out of the programmes, plus the neurodivergent pods and the space for the social workers. You’ve done so much already. It’s a shame Alex can’t be as happy about it as we are.”

Ellie grumbled agreement.

I grimaced. “Until everyone has a choice, or a safe space, there will always be more to help.”

Ellie nodded. “Don’t let him overlook what you have already achieved.”

I offered her a huge smile. “That would be a ‘we’, and I got it! Don’t work too late!”

They didn’t reply because we all knew if they said they wouldn’t it would be a lie. Alex needed to talk with them, but first I needed to talk with him.

I worked my way outside and through the orangery. We’d separated both wings from the main house after the renovations were finished and we set up the foundation. The aim had been to give as many opportunities to children in care as we could. The money I’d had left to me would have absorbed what we needed to build the training suites and convert the wings a hundred times over, but it turned out there were unending levels of support for what we wanted to do, so the donations kitted the place out and let us take on twice the number of ageing-out apprentices that we planned for in year one. And that was before the big plans we had for the future. The social care system was one thing, and my knowledge of family policy proved useful, but I was setting my sights higher. Bigger.

But right now, the bigger thing my sights were set on was over six-foot tall, built like a bull and stubborn as hell.

I called out into the house, weaving through the kitchen and the library, up the stairs and towards our suite in search of them.

I let myself in and the door silently closed behind me. My fingers brushed over the glass frame on the console table, the torn half of The Blue Castle presented carefully inside.