Chapter 19
Olivia sat in the drawing room, a book open in her lap, though she hadn’t turned a page in some time.
Her gaze was fixed on the fireplace, its soft glow unable to melt the cold coil of unease in her stomach.
The memory of waking in that wretched tavern gnawed at her—not just the fear, but the fury.
She had been taken. Used as leverage. And she had been lucky to escape. That luck might not hold a second time.
She wasn’t weak. She wouldn’t let them make her feel small.
The door opened, and Gillingham stepped into the room with his usual composed air. “Lord and Lady Wilton have arrived—”
He didn’t finish. Richard and Dosia entered the room, their expressions drawn and anxious.
Her brother’s gaze swept over her. “Are you all right?” he asked, the question more of a demand than an inquiry.
Olivia carefully closed the book and rested it on her lap. “I am well,” she said, lifting her chin slightly.
Dosia didn’t hesitate. She crossed the room and sat beside Olivia on the settee. “What happened? Please, tell us everything.”
For a moment, Olivia closed her eyes. Just long enough to summon a thread of composure. “I woke up in a tavern. In a part of Town that I would never willingly go near. But I found a window, climbed out, and managed to escape down a tree.”
Dosia’s breath caught. “That sounds… horrifying.” She gave Olivia’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You were so brave to think clearly and get yourself out.”
Olivia looked away, ashamed of the tremor that ran through her. Brave? She hadn’t felt brave. She had felt desperate.
Richard stepped forward, arms crossed. “I think we should take you back to our home until this threat is over.”
Olivia’s eyes snapped to him. “I am home.”
“You know what I mean,” he said with a sigh. “I do not like the thought of you being here while someone is clearly trying to harm you.”
“I am safe here,” Olivia asserted.
Richard frowned. “Assuming you stay away from windows and don’t leave the townhouse.”
Olivia leaned forward and placed the book on the table with quiet finality. “I appreciate your concern, Richard. But I am not alone. Evander will keep me safe.”
He looked unconvinced. “Need I remind you that you were abducted while Westmere was mere feet away?”
A flicker of doubt crept in, but she pushed it down. “I am not leaving my home. Or Evander. And need I remind you that I was abducted outside of your townhouse, not mine?”
Richard let out a noise of exasperation and turned to his wife. “Dosia, will you try to talk some sense into my obstinate sister?”
Dosia gave Olivia a small, knowing smile. “You must know he only speaks this way because he’s worried about you.”
“I know,” Olivia responded. “But I trust Evander with my life.”
With a bob of her head, Dosia replied, “Then you must stay here.”
“That’s not what we discussed,” Richard muttered.
Dosia shot him a look, her smile growing. “We must respect Olivia’s decision. Besides, it’s not as though we could force her.”
“Whyever not?” Richard grumbled under his breath.
Dosia’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Because women tend to stand by the men they love.”
Richard lowered himself into a chair across from Olivia, his expression softening. “Is it true?”
The air seemed to thicken around her. She could lie and claim it was nothing more than friendship. But something inside her refused to pretend any longer.
“It is,” she admitted. “But I haven’t told Evander yet. I’m afraid he won’t… that he doesn’t feel the same.”
Dosia tightened her grip on Olivia’s hand. “It’s natural to be afraid. But don’t let that fear silence you.”
“My admission would change everything.”
Richard gave a faint nod. “Yes. But for the better. This—this love—is what our parents would have wanted for you. To love, and be loved in return.”
Olivia bit her lower lip. “But what if he doesn’t return my feelings? What then?”
Her question hung in the air. Richard and Dosia exchanged a look—meaningful and unspoken. It only made her heart pound harder.
Richard cleared his throat. “When I told Dosia how I felt, I was terrified. But I loved her too much to remain silent.”
“And I’m glad you told me,” Dosia added, giving her husband a fond glance.
“Life is full of uncertainty,” Richard said, “but Evander doesn’t have to be one of them.”
Before Olivia could respond, the door opened and Evander entered the room with a purposeful stride. His eyes found hers instantly, and in that moment—despite everything—she felt the knot inside her begin to loosen.
“Olivia,” he said gently. “How are you faring?”
She rose to her feet, her heart steadying. “I am well.”
“I am relieved to hear that.”
Richard’s voice cut in, sharp with protectiveness. “What are you doing to keep my sister safe?”
Olivia turned her head towards Evander, suddenly aware of how still he’d become. But when he answered, his voice was calm, unyielding. “I’ve hired more footmen. They’re stationed throughout the townhouse. No one will get to her again.”
She felt a rush of warmth at his words, though she knew they were more for Richard’s benefit than hers. Evander had been on edge since she returned. Vigilant. Watchful. As if he blamed himself.
“Good,” Richard replied, though he didn’t sound fully appeased. “I would prefer if she returned home with me—”
“She is home,” Evander stated, his voice clipped. “Now, and forever.”
Olivia’s breath caught. Not because of his defiance but because of the quiet certainty in his voice. He meant it. Every word.
Richard studied Evander for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded. “Then I expect you to protect her with your life.”
“That goes without saying.”
Before Richard could say more, Gillingham stepped into the drawing room with practiced formality. “Your father has requested your presence in the study, my lord.”
“Inform him we’ll be there shortly,” Evander responded.
Richard turned to Dosia and held out a hand to help her rise. “We can see ourselves out.”
Olivia offered her sister-in-law a grateful glance. Dosia gave her a small smile and a wink before they left, and the room fell into a quiet hush.
Evander turned to her, his gaze moving over her as if seeing her for the first time since their guests had arrived. “How are you doing—truly?”
Olivia hesitated, then gave a small, rueful smile. “My head aches a bit, but I’ll survive.”
Her attempt at lightness didn’t reach him. The seriousness in his eyes deepened. “I’m sorry I failed you.”
Her heart clenched. “You didn’t—”
“It was my fault,” he said, his voice low and thick with emotion. “You were taken. And I wasn’t strong enough to stop it. I wasn’t enough.”
She stepped forward without thinking, her hand finding his. “Don’t say that. You were—are—everything I needed. You didn’t fail me, Evander. The people who did this… they did. Not you.”
But he didn’t seem to hear her. His shoulders were tight, his jaw clenched. “What kind of husband lets harm come to his wife?”
She reached up and cupped his cheek, gently forcing him to meet her gaze. “The best kind. The kind who cares so much he’ll carry the blame even when it doesn’t belong to him.”
His eyes grew moist. “You deserve better.”
“It is you that I want. Because no one else makes sense.”
She drew in a breath. Say it. Tell him.
“I love—”
Gillingham reappeared, clearing his throat. “Pardon the interruption, but your father is rather insistent that you join him in the study.”
Evander closed his eyes for a brief moment, then gave a humorless smile. “My father is anything but patient.” He took a step back but kept hold of her hand. “I’d like you to come with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Where I go, you go,” he said simply. “No more secrets.”
That one sentence stole the air from her lungs. She nodded, letting him lead her. Her hand remained wrapped in his, warm and certain. As they walked down the corridor, she could see the tension around his mouth. His grief and guilt hadn’t left him—not yet. But perhaps they could face it together.
They entered the study, and Olivia felt Evander’s hand tense slightly in hers.
Lord Everwyck sat in one of the wingback chairs, a glass in his hand and a scowl etched across his weathered face. He barely glanced at them. “Why is Olivia here?”
“I asked her to join me,” Evander replied.
The earl gave a huff of disapproval and took a sip. Then his eyes, sharper now, turned to Olivia. “I heard you were abducted.”
“I was,” Olivia said, her voice even.
A flicker of something passed across Lord Everwyck’s face—regret? Guilt? She couldn’t be sure. “I am relieved beyond words that you escaped unharmed.”
The sincerity in his tone startled her. “Thank you, my lord.”
He leaned forward, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “I believe the time has come to seriously consider selling the indigo plantation.”
Evander’s brow creased. “You were opposed to that before.”
“I was,” the earl admitted. “But whoever is behind these attacks won’t stop until we are all in the ground. I can’t allow that to happen.”
Olivia studied him quietly. There was a weariness about him, one she hadn’t noticed before. The stubborn pride that usually defined him had been dimmed. He looked... tired. Human.
Evander’s voice cut into her thoughts. “It’s not your decision to make, is it?”
Lord Everwyck’s head lifted slowly. “What do you mean?”
“I know that Bryon left the plantation to me in his will.”
The earl stiffened, his knuckles tightening around the arm of the chair. “That plantation belongs to the estate. It never should have been in Bryon’s name in the first place. He used funds that he acquired from gambling.”
“But it was. And now it belongs to me,” Evander said. He glanced towards Olivia. “What are your thoughts? Should I sell it?”
Her eyes widened, not just at the question, but at what it meant. He trusted her. He valued her.
Lord Everwyck gave a scoffing laugh. “What kind of man asks his wife for advice on estate matters?”
Evander didn’t blink. “A smart one.”