Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Phoebe sat on the edge of her aunt’s narrow bed, the sunlight streaming weakly through the thin curtains.
Her fingers idly traced the hem of her plain gown, and the quiet of the country estate pressed around her like a weight. She had grown used to the stillness, to the sense of being removed from everything she loved—and yet, the emptiness gnawed at her.
A knock came at the door. She startled and jumped slightly as the stillness was broken.
“Lady Phoebe,” said the maid outside, “you’ve a visitor.”
Phoebe’s heart leapt. Surely it must be Genevieve. She hurried to the door, hope fluttering in her chest, only to freeze in shock.
Standing in the hallway, calm, confident, the very embodiment of controlled composure, was Sebastian.
Her lips parted, and for a long moment, she could not find words. “Sebastian…” she finally breathed.
Before she could move, the door behind him burst open, and her aunt Celia stormed in, skirts rustling, eyes wide with scandal.
“Phoebe! Your parents specifically forbade any visitors! They warned me that someone might come looking for you and I swore to them that I would not let anyone trespass.” Aunt Celia glared at the Duke, clearly not understanding who he was or why he had audaciously invaded her home.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
Sebastian stepped forward slightly, so that he loomed over Aunt Celia. “I will not leave without seeing her. I must speak with Lady Phoebe immediately.”
Her aunt’s face blushed with indignation. “You have no right”
For a few seconds, he only responded with a glare, needing to suppress what he wanted to say. He clenched his teeth so hard the pressure carved his jawline into a sharper point.
Sebastian did not need to speak, At the storm in his sea-green eyes, her aunt took a step back.
“I am the Duke of Talwyn. And I have come for Lady Phoebe. I will speak to her alone.”
Phoebe’s mouth fell open. She glanced at her aunt, then at Sebastian. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Your Grace,” her aunt said, suddenly adjusting her posture. Her voice shifted to politeness laced with awe. “I—I did not realize… forgive me. I only…” She hesitated, frowning, unsure how to proceed.
Sebastian’s emerald eyes swept over her aunt. Phoebe could see that Sebastian was sizing her up, trying to measure how much fuss she would kick up before leaving them in peace. “I require only a private word with your niece. If you would be so kind.”
Her aunt blinked, then sighed, clearly defeated but eager to placate him. “Of course. Of course, Your Grace. I apologize for…detaining you.”
She backed out of the room, fussing with her skirts, and closed the door behind her.
Phoebe turned fully toward him, heart pounding, words catching in her throat. “I—”
Sebastian reached into his coat pocket and drew out a small, familiar silver pendant. Her eyes widened, and she stepped toward him.
“My necklace?” she whispered. The sight of Sebastian holding her grandfather’s pendant was almost too good to be true.
He held it out, his expression unreadable. “I thought it best that I delivered this to you myself. Too precious to risk it being lost or delayed. I wanted you to have it… safely.”
Phoebe clutched it to her chest, feeling the cool metal against her warmth. “How? how did you...”
“The trail was not difficult,” he said softly. “Your parents lack imagination and I did not have to look far to find where they sold your belongings.”
He stared at her and she thought she could see the longing in his eyes. “I could not allow someone else to deliver it. And selfishly, I did not want another soul to see the joy in your eyes when you once more beheld your most precious possession.”
Phoebe’s hand lingered on the pendant, gripping it, then she stepped back slightly, struggling with her feelings. “Thank you for this. For coming here. I know that things between us were left unresolved or at least I feel like they—”
“I needed to speak with you,” he interjected, his voice low, urgent. “Honestly, finally. Unmasked. Truthfully. I did not act in a timely manner before and now… now look where we are.”
He gestured vaguely to their surroundings. The room was cramped and spartanly furnished, and she knew the Duke was uncomfortable being here.
Phoebe’s chest tightened. “I did not expect you to act out of haste before.” She swallowed a heavy sigh.
“You told me that you loved me, you asked me to marry you, but I also knew that we would not simply elope and leave all our worries behind us. I understood that there were matters which still required your attention and…”
“My attention,” Sebastian said the words bitterly.
“My attention should have been focused on you, Phoebe.” His jaw clenched.
“How could I have let them steal from you?” He waved his hand at her necklace.
“How could I have taken my eyes off you long enough for your parents to spirit you away and hide you in this place?”
It was clear that Sebastian was taking too much of the blame on himself, and Phoebe wanted to comfort him.
“No one could have talked sense into my parents,” she said softly. “I tried to tell them that we were engaged. I…”
“But I should have been there when you made that announcement. I should have been standing by your side. I abandoned you. I let my fears and worries…my concerns for my own obligations clouded my judgement.”
He ran a hand through his long hair and made the auburn locks stand slightly on end.
“All the masquerades, all the games, the charade of the Duke… they were necessary for my life. But you saw me. Beyond the mask, beyond the title. And yet I hurt you. I left you to suffer on your own. I am sorry for that, truly.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “You made me feel alive, and then you left me wondering if any of it could last. I have been gone from London for almost a week. I have sat here day after day wondering if you, or Genevieve, or anyone would ever find me again. So, why come now, Sebastian? Why bring my necklace and say these things?”
“Because I can no longer stand not being honest,” he said, taking a small step closer.
“I would have come sooner, if I had been permitted. I have secrets, Phoebe. You know this. You have known since the moment we met that there were forces at play in my life that required me to keep my identity closeted.”
“And you waited to come for me because…”
“I had to be sure it was safe to tell you my story…my whole tale… my truth.”
Phoebe nodded. “Now? Now you will share your secrets with me?”
“Yes,” he breathed. Sebastian gazed deeply into her eyes.
“I am a spy for the Crown. I have spent years navigating danger, protecting lives… always knowing attachment is perilous. I wore the mask, the charm, the facade, but none of it mattered when I was around you. You saw past it, and you deserve the truth.”
Her gaze faltered, heart hammering, mind whirling. “You are a spy? But surely… Oh, Sebastian. I never… never would have dreamed.” She clutched the necklace so hard that the pendant bit into her palm. “And you risked everything to come here?”
He exhaled deeply. “The risk was worth taking. I will not let you be trapped by their decisions, by your parents’ will, by circumstance. I came because I had to, and because I want you to choose, with full knowledge, freely.”
Phoebe swallowed hard, trembling, but she found her voice. “And now I know everything?”
Sebastian reached slowly into his coat, drawing out a small, worn manuscript. The leather binding was soft, marked with creases from frequent handling. He held it out to her, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Genevieve gave this to me almost a week ago,” he said quietly. “She told me you wrote it. That it was yours, meant for her as a gift. And yet, while reading it I saw so much more. It showed me your heart, your mind, the truth of your soul.”
Phoebe’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching in her throat. “My writing?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Yes,” he said, kneeling carefully before her.
The gesture was solemn and humble. “You wrote what you could not say aloud. What you could not express in a world that had you constrained by expectation and propriety. And in those pages… I saw you. Not the Phoebe the world expects. Not the dutiful daughter, the quiet observer, the girl bound by her family’s will.
I saw the real Phoebe. The Phoebe who dares, who dreams, who loves with honesty and courage. ”
Phoebe felt a tear prick the corner of her eye, the heat of emotion rising in her chest. She wanted to reach for him, to touch, to collapse into the safety of his arms, but something in the stillness demanded she hold herself steady and savor the weight of his words.
“I have spent my life behind walls, behind masks,” he continued, voice low, resonant, vulnerable.
“The Duke of Talwyn, the charmer, the man who moves among society like a shadowed actor; I am all these things. But you… you have seen beyond it. You have seen me. And it terrifies me, and it delights me, in equal measure. Because in seeing me… you have given me the most glorious gift: the possibility of being known, and of being loved despite the truth of who I am.”
He paused, letting the words hang in the small room; his gaze fixed on hers. Phoebe’s breath was shallow; her pulse thundered in her ears.
“I have faced danger, deception, loss… and yet never have I felt so exposed, so alive, as when I read your words. They pierced every wall I have built around my heart, every mask I have worn to navigate this world. They reminded me of what I want—what I need—and it is you, Phoebe. Only you.”
Phoebe’s hands trembled at her sides. “Sebastian…” she breathed, unable to summon more.
He stared up at her. “I have abandoned certainty and ease, risked my safety, my reputation, everything I have known, because you deserve the truth. You deserve a choice that is entirely yours, unbound by fear or obligation. And I,” his voice caught, a rare crack in his otherwise measured tone, “I want to be the man who stands beside you for the rest of your life. I want to be the one you can trust, the one you can love, the one who will cherish you as you deserve.”
Phoebe’s lips parted, tears brimming, and she shook her head slightly, overwhelmed by his honesty, his intensity, and the gravity of the moment they shared.
“Phoebe,” he said, lifting her hand gently between both of his, “I kneel before you not as the Duke you know in society, but as the man who has loved you in secret, who has waited and hoped for this chance. I kneel before you because I am powerless in your presence… powerless to resist you, powerless to hide what I feel. And I kneel because I am asking you, with all that I am, with all that I have, will you—”
He swallowed, the words thick with emotion, “will you marry me, Phoebe? Will you give me the honor, the joy, and the challenge of loving you, of sharing your life, of choosing one another freely, without the interference of masks, society, or expectation? Will you let me be yours, wholly and without reservation?”
The room seemed to narrow. The sunlight slanted across his face, highlighting the fire in his eyes, the warmth in his cheeks, the awe in his expression.
Phoebe’s heart thundered in her chest, and yet, at that moment, she knew the answer. She felt the weight of her parents’ decisions, the sting of exile, and the longing that had never dulled. But, above all, she felt the undeniable truth of her own desire.
“You asked me to marry you before, Sebastian. I accepted you then. Completely. Wholly. Without any reservation. I knew that I wanted to be with you then, but you… you were not so sure that you would have me,” she told him, and he listened without interruption, on one knee, eyes locked on hers, every inch of him present, accountable.
“I should never have hesitated, my love,” Sebastian breathed. “I should have claimed you that night. I should have told that world that you were mine.”
“I believe,” she said softly, “that when you promised the first time, you were moved by the thrill of the moment. You got swept away in the bliss we found in that garden. How do I know that this proposal… this time… you mean to really and truly make me your wife?”
“I will never leave you again.” Sebastian said those simple words and nothing more. As he made that vow, Phoebe could feel the air around them ripple, and she knew that was all she needed to hear.
Finally, she whispered her reply, “I… I will have you. I accept you, Sebastian. I will marry you.”
Relief, warmth, and something deeper surged through her. He rose, scooped her into his arms, and kissed her with a tenderness that made her world collapse into his.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she returned, clutching him tightly.
Sebastian nuzzled his lips into the side of her neck and Phoebe inhaled deeply, appreciating the chance to smell his soft, warm baked apple scent once more.
“I have not brought a ring,” he murmured against her earlobe.
Phoebe’s left hand uncurled, revealing the glinting silver pendant. “Then this will do,” she said. “This gift is more precious than any ring.”
Sebastian pulled away from her just slightly and held out his hand so she could drop the necklace into his palm. He smiled at her as he fastened it around her neck once more, and they kissed again.
Softly, fully, with a depth that spoke of shared secrets, confessions, and newly claimed freedom, two hearts unmasked at last.