Chapter Seven #2
“All right,” he said finally. “If you truly want to help, then…yes. I would appreciate it.”
Relief flooded Ashley’s features, followed quickly by determination. “Where should we start?”
They began with the obvious items—the jewelry box on the nightstand, a few books Raven had given Kitty, some letters. Ashley handled each object with respect, never asking intrusive questions, simply helping him sort things into piles: items to keep, items to donate, items to discard.
As they worked, the oppressive atmosphere of the house seemed to lift slightly. Having Ashley here, treating this painful task as simply another problem to be solved together, made it feel less like a betrayal and more like…closure.
“Tell me about her,” Ashley said suddenly, carefully folding one of Kitty’s shawls. “Not about how she died, but about who she was. What made you love her?”
Raven paused, a cameo brooch in his hand—he’d given it to Kitty on her birthday. “She was…uncomplicated. Honest about what she wanted and what she felt. No games, no pretense. Just herself, completely and unapologetically.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Ashley said quietly. “Yet for young ladies, it’s hard to be oneself. Society can be very unforgiving.”
“It was wonderful.” He set the brooch in the ‘keep’ pile—he’d donate it to one of the girls from Madam Chloé’s establishment who’d been Kitty’s friend. “She made me feel accepted. Not judged for my title or my fortune or my connections. Just…accepted.”
“For whom you are,” Ashley said, and something in her tone made him look up sharply.
“Yes.”
She met his eyes directly. “Everyone deserves that, Raven. To be accepted for who they truly are, not just the face they show society. Or the way society thinks of them. All is never what it seems.”
“Like you. I’m seeing you more clearly. Your scandal shouldn’t have defined you.”
The weight of his words hung between them, loaded with meaning he wasn’t quite ready to examine. Instead, he cleared his throat and returned to the task at hand.
They worked in companionable silence for a while longer, until most of Kitty’s personal effects had been sorted.
The room looked bare now, stripped of the small touches that had made it hers.
Soon it would be just another property on the market, the memories contained within these walls scattered or packed away.
“Raven?” Ashley’s voice was hesitant, and when he looked up, she was twisting her hands together nervously. “There’s something I need to say. Something I should have said weeks ago.”
His chest tightened with apprehension. “What is it?”
“I want more from our marriage.” The words came out in a rush, as if she’d been holding them back for too long. “Not more money or more status—I want children. A family. I want to be a real wife to you, not just the woman who manages your household and accompanies you to social events.”
Raven felt the air leave his lungs. Of course she wanted children—what woman didn’t? It was the fundamental purpose of marriage, the expected outcome of any union. He’d known this conversation was inevitable, had been dreading it since their wedding night.
“Ashley—”
“Please, let me finish.” She took a breath, steadying herself.
“I know you didn’t choose this marriage.
I know we were forced together by scandal and circumstance.
But we’re married now, and we have to find some way to make it work.
I can’t spend the rest of my life in this…
this limbo. Married but not married. An obligation you’ve accepted. ”
The echo of his own thoughts about Kitty—about being accepted for himself—struck him forcefully. Was that how Ashley felt? Like he valued the fact he’d avoided a scandal but not her person?
“It’s not that I don’t want you,” he said carefully. “You must know that’s not the issue.”
“Then what is the issue?” She moved closer, her expression open and vulnerable. “Why do you keep such careful distance? Is it Kitty? Are you afraid that being with me would dishonor her memory?”
“No,” he admitted. “It’s more than that.”
“Then tell me. Help me understand.” She reached out tentatively, placing her hand on his arm. The contact sent heat through him despite the innocent nature of the touch. “Whatever it is, Raven, we can face it together. But I can’t fight shadows. I need you to be honest with me.”
He looked at her hand on his arm, at the trust implicit in that simple gesture. She was offering him something Kitty had given him—acceptance without understanding all the details. Faith that whatever he revealed wouldn’t make her turn away.
Could he risk it? Could he risk losing the fragile peace they’d built by admitting to desires that might shock or disgust her?
“I need time,” he said finally. “To think about how to…how to explain certain things.”
Disappointment flickered across her features, but she nodded. “How much time?”
“Not long. Just…let me settle this business with the house. Clear away this part of my past properly. And then we’ll talk. Really talk, about what we both want from this marriage.”
“And you’ll be honest with me?” Her eyes searched his face. “No more polite distance and careful avoidance?”
“I’ll try.” It was the best he could offer. “I promise I’ll try, Ashley.”
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “All right. I’ll wait. But not forever, Raven. I’m twenty-two years old. I want children.”
The practicality of her statement made him smile despite the tension. “You’re hardly at death’s door.”
“No, but I’m not getting any younger either.” She squeezed his arm gently. “And neither are you. Don’t waste what we could have by holding onto what we’ve lost.”
The wisdom in her words struck deep. Wasn’t that exactly what he’d been doing? Clinging to memories of Kitty while denying himself—and Ashley—any chance at happiness in the present?
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I have been holding on too tightly. To this house, to my grief, to my fear of…of moving forward.”
“Then let’s move forward together.” Ashley’s smile was tentative but genuine. “Starting with finishing this task. What else needs to be done?”
They spent another hour working through the remaining rooms, and with each item sorted, Raven felt a small measure of his burden lifting.
Having Ashley here, treating Kitty’s memory with respect rather than jealousy, made the process of letting go feel less like betrayal and more like the natural progression of grief.
As they prepared to leave, Ashley paused in the doorway, looking back at the now-bare rooms. “She must have been very special, to inspire such devotion.”
“She was,” Raven agreed. “But she’s gone. And you’re here. I need to remember that.”
“I’m not asking that you forget her,” Ashley corrected gently. “Just make room for new memories alongside the old ones.”
He looked at his wife—this woman he’d married out of obligation, but who was revealing depths of understanding and strength he hadn’t expected—and felt something shift in his chest. Not love, not yet.
But the beginning of respect, of genuine appreciation for who she was rather than simply what she represented.
“Thank you,” he said. “For coming here today. For not making this harder than it already was.”
“We’re partners, Raven.” She took his arm as they descended the stairs. “Or at least, we’re trying to be. Partners help each other, even with the difficult things.”
As they stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight, Raven decided. He would sell this house, as he’d promised. But more than that, he would try—truly try—to build something real with Ashley. She deserved that much. They both did.
“Let’s go home,” he said as he handed her into their carriage. “The house should sell quickly—it’s well-maintained and in a good location.”
“And then?” Ashley’s eyes held hope and apprehension in equal measure.
“And then we shall see.” He settled beside her, closer than he usually sat. “About what we both want. About how to make this marriage more than just a convenient arrangement.”
She nodded, and he saw her swallow hard. “I’m afraid,” she admitted quietly. “Of being rejected. Of not being enough. I don’t know if I can love you, and I suspect you might never love me. Will that be enough for either of us?”
“So am I,” he confessed. “But I think we’ve both been afraid for too long. It’s time to be brave instead. Just give me a bit more time.”
As the carriage rolled toward home, Raven found himself reaching for Ashley’s hand. She stiffened in surprise, then relaxed, her fingers curling around his.
It was a small gesture, but it felt monumental. The first genuine touch they’d shared since that desperate kiss in the garden that had started all of this.
Perhaps, he thought, there was hope for them after all. If they could just find the courage to be honest with each other.
Even if that honesty revealed things neither of them had expected to face.