Chapter 30
She set down the pen and stared at the letter, tears blurring the words she had written.
This was right. This was necessary. This was the only way.
She would leave tonight, while the household slept. She would take nothing but her small travelling case and the memories she would carry forever. She would disappear into the darkness and never look back.
It would destroy her. But it would save them.
And that, in the end, was all that mattered.
***
Nathaniel could not sleep.
He had tried—had lain in his bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, his mind churning with plans and contingencies that all seemed to lead nowhere. Elspeth’s threat hung over him like a sword, and he could see no way to deflect it that did not involve sacrificing something precious.
Finally, giving up on rest, he rose and pulled on his night-robe. Perhaps a book would help. Perhaps the familiar comfort of the library would quiet his racing thoughts.
He was halfway down the corridor when he saw the light.
It was coming from the library—a soft glow that suggested someone had lit a lamp within. At this hour, it could only be one person.
Serena.
He should turn back. Should return to his room and leave her to whatever solitary contemplation had drawn her to the library in the middle of the night.
They had agreed to maintain distance, to give Elspeth no ammunition.
Being found alone together at this hour would be exactly the kind of evidence she was looking for.
But his feet carried him forward anyway, drawn by a force stronger than caution.
He pushed open the library door—and stopped.
Serena was standing by the writing desk, her back to him, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. On the desk before her lay a sheet of paper, and even from across the room, Nathaniel recognised it for what it was.
A letter.
A resignation letter.
“No.”
The word escaped him before he could stop it—a raw denial torn from somewhere deep in his chest. Serena spun around, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wide with shock.
“Nathaniel. I didn’t—you should not be here—”
“Neither should you.” He crossed the room in three long strides and snatched the letter from the desk, his eyes scanning the words she had written. “You cannot do this. You cannot leave.”
“I have to.” Her voice was broken, barely above a whisper. “Don’t you see? I am the problem. I am the evidence Lady Crane needs. If I go, if I disappear, she has nothing. She cannot accuse you of impropriety with a governess who is no longer here.”
“And what of you?” Nathaniel’s voice was harsh with pain. “What becomes of you, Serena? You disappear into the night, alone, with no references, no prospects, no—”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me!” He crumpled the letter in his fist, his whole body shaking with the force of his emotion.
“You matter to me. Do you think I could live with myself, knowing I let you sacrifice yourself for my sake? Do you think I could look at the children every day, knowing they lost you because I was too cowardly to fight for what I want?”
“This is not about what you want. It is about what they need.” Serena’s voice cracked. “They need a guardian who is above reproach. They need a home that is not tainted by scandal. They need—”
“They need you.” Nathaniel reached out and grasped her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Rosie needs you. Samuel needs you. Ella needs you. And I—” His voice broke. “I need you, Serena. I cannot do this without you. I do not want to do this without you.”
“Nathaniel—”
“I love you.” The words came out fierce, desperate. “I love you, and I will not let you walk away. Not like this. Not because some vindictive woman has decided to make our lives miserable.”
Serena was crying openly now, tears streaming down her face. “What choice do we have? She is determined to take action. To destroy your reputation, your guardianship, everything—”
“Then let her try.” Nathaniel’s jaw set with sudden determination. “Let her write her letters and make her accusations. I am done hiding. I am done pretending. If Elspeth wants a fight, I shall give her one.”
“What do you mean?”
Nathaniel stepped back, his mind suddenly clear. He knew what he had to do. Had known, perhaps, since the moment he saw Serena’s resignation letter. He had simply been too afraid to admit it.
But he was not afraid anymore.
“On the morrow,” he said, “I shall announce our betrothal.”
Serena’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“I will stand in front of Elspeth, in front of Sir Harold, in front of the entire household, and I will announce that I intend to marry you. That you are not merely my governess—but my future wife. That our connection is not scandalous; not inappropriate; not evidence of unfitness. It is simply love.”
“Nathaniel, you cannot—the scandal—”
“There will be scandal regardless. Elspeth will see to that.” Nathaniel’s voice was steady now, certain.
“But a man who marries the woman he loves is not the same as a man who carries on an illicit affair with his governess. One is romantic. The other is sordid. If we are courting—if we are planning to marry—then everything changes.”
“But I am still a governess. I am still beneath your station. Society will never—”
“Society may go hang.” Nathaniel took her hands in his, his grip warm and sure.
“My brother was brave enough, and he was happy. Deliriously, completely happy. He told me once that the only opinion that mattered was his wife’s, and that as long as she loved him, he could face anything.
” He squeezed her fingers. “I want that, Serena. I want to face anything, as long as you are beside me.”
Serena stared at him, her tears still falling, her expression a mixture of hope and terror.
“You would do that?” she whispered. “You would face scandal, face society’s disapproval, face everything—for me?”
“I would do far more than that.” Nathaniel raised her hands to his lips and kissed them gently. “I would burn the world down for you, Serena Collard. If you will let me.”
She laughed—a wet, broken sound that was half sob, half joy. “That sounds rather extreme.”
“I am rather extreme when it comes to you.”
“Nathaniel.” She freed one hand and pressed it against his cheek, her touch impossibly tender. “Are you certain? Once such an announcement is made, it cannot be recalled. Whatever happens with Lady Crane, whatever happens with society—”
“I am certain.” He turned his head and kissed her palm. “I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”
She was quiet for a long moment, her grey eyes searching his face. Then, slowly, she smiled—a real smile, bright and tremulous and full of hope.
“Then yes,” she said. “Yes, I will marry you. Yes, I will stand beside you. Yes, I will face whatever comes, as long as we face it together.”
Nathaniel felt something break open in his chest—a flood of joy and relief and love so overwhelming he could barely contain it. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, feeling her heart beat against his.
“Together,” he repeated. “Always together.”
They stood like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, the resignation letter forgotten on the floor where it had fallen from Nathaniel’s hand.
Tomorrow would bring battles. Tomorrow would bring Lady Crane’s fury and society’s judgment and a thousand complications they could not yet foresee.
But tonight, there was only this: two people who had found each other against all odds, clinging to the love they had built, ready to fight for the future they deserved.
Tomorrow, they would face the world.
Tonight, they had each other.
And that was enough.
***
Morning came too soon.
Serena woke in her bed, feeling different. Lighter. As though a weight she had been carrying for weeks had finally been lifted.
She was going to marry Nathaniel.
The thought was terrifying and wonderful in equal measure. There would be scandal, yes. There would be whispers and judgment and closed doors. But there would also be love, and family, and a home where she truly belonged.
She dressed carefully, choosing her best gown and pinning her hair with more attention than usual. If she was going to face Lady Crane’s fury, she would do it looking her best.
When she descended to the breakfast room, she found the household already assembled.
The Cranes sat on one side of the table, Lady Crane’s expression smug and satisfied, Sir Harold’s uncomfortable.
The children sat on the other side, Ella tense and watchful, Samuel silent, Rosie clutching Marianne with white-knuckled fingers.
And at the head of the table sat Nathaniel.
He looked up as she entered, and something passed between them—a silent communication, a shared understanding. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and she knew: this was the moment.
“Good morning, Miss Collard,” he said, his voice carrying clearly through the room. “Pray, sit down. I have an announcement to make.”
Lady Crane’s expression sharpened. “An announcement, Lord Greystone?”
“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 responsibilities and wishes.”
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 of intelligence, 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.”
They shook hands—a brief, formal gesture—and then Sir Harold followed his wife from the room.
And just like that, it was over.
Serena stood in the breakfast room, surrounded by the family she loved, and felt tears streaming down her face.
“Miss Collard is crying,” Rosie observed, her voice worried. “Why is she crying? Isn’t she happy?”
“I am happy, sweetheart.” Serena laughed through her tears, gathering Rosie into her arms. “I am so very, very happy.”
Nathaniel crossed to her side and pulled them both into an embrace, his arms wrapped around Serena and Rosie together, Samuel and Ella pressed close.
“We did it,” he murmured against Serena’s hair. “We actually did it.”
“We did,” she agreed. “Together.”