Chapter 18
Eighteen
Chastity lingered near a painting of a serene countryside, feigning interest in the strokes of pale morning light while her mind raced. She had been aware of his presence from the moment she stepped into the gallery, and the thought made her pulse quicken.
Lord Wellford was here. Somewhere among the crowd, his watchful gaze seemed to follow her movements, though he had yet to approach. The anticipation was maddening, thrilling—and terrifying.
Minerva, nearby but thankfully preoccupied in a lively discussion with Samantha and another guest, hadn’t noticed Chastity’s restless energy.
Chastity forced herself to remain poised, even as her hands itched to reach for the note she knew he would pass her.
He always found a way, no matter the setting.
She didn’t have to wait long. As she turned to move toward another painting, a light brush of fingers against hers startled her.
She looked up sharply, meeting Lord Wellford’s steady gaze for only a moment before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
In his wake, she felt the telltale press of a folded piece of paper being tucked into her palm.
Her heart pounded as she carefully slid the note into her reticule, her breath catching at the gesture’s boldness. The gallery’s atmosphere suddenly felt suffocating, the laughter and quiet conversations around her blending into an indistinct hum. She needed privacy—just a moment to herself.
Slipping through a doorway leading to one of the quieter wings of the gallery, Chastity found a small alcove with a window overlooking the garden. It was secluded, far enough from the crowd that she could finally exhale. With trembling hands, she retrieved the note and unfolded it.
Lady Chastity,
I cannot continue this way. Every stolen moment with you fills me with hope, yet it is hope tempered by the knowledge that I will never be enough in the eyes of your family. I do not wish to be a secret anymore.
You deserve a man who can court you openly, who can offer you more than I ever could. But if you are willing to take that risk, if your heart matches mine, then I will stand beside you, no matter the odds. If not, I will trouble you no further and wish you every happiness.
Yours,
Wellford
Chastity stood alone in the alcove, her heart aching with her dashed hopes. She felt foolish, exposed. The note that had filled her with such joy now felt like a mockery.
Blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, she straightened her spine and smoothed her skirts. She couldn’t let anyone see her like this, least of all Minerva. With a practiced smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she returned to the gallery, making her way toward Minerva and Samantha.
“I am feeling a bit unwell,” she said, interrupting their conversation. “I think I will head home early.”
Minerva frowned, concern flashing across her face. “Are you certain? We can leave together if—”
“No,” Chastity said quickly, shaking her head. “There’s no need to cut your evening short. I will have the carriage take me back.”
Minerva studied her for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she didn’t press further. “Very well. I will send for the driver.”
Chastity nodded, murmuring her thanks, and made her way toward the exit. As the cool evening air enveloped her, she allowed herself a single tear before wiping it away. She had made a mistake, trusted too much in the promises of a man who seemed unwilling to take the risks he demanded of her.
But as the carriage carried her away from the gallery, the note in her reticule burned against her side, a reminder that she wasn’t ready to let go—not yet.
Minerva arrived home from the gallery, her thoughts still swirling from her unexpected conversation with the Duke.
The memory of Evan's gaze lingered with her longer than she cared to admit. She had spent the entire carriage ride home trying to make sense of her feelings—his near-confession, the strange tension between them, the way he had walked away when she was certain he wouldn’t.
But any further reflection was cut short the moment she entered the house. The atmosphere felt heavy, thick with something she couldn’t quite place. The housekeeper greeted her with a tense expression, her lips pressed into a thin line as she handed Minerva her gloves and bonnet.
“Where is my sister?” Minerva asked, sensing that something was off.
“In her room, my lady,” the housekeeper said softly, her tone laced with unease. “She... she is upset.”
Minerva’s heart sank. Something must have happened. Without wasting another moment, she hurried up the grand staircase, her skirts brushing the banister as she moved swiftly toward Chastity’s room.
When she reached the door, she paused for a moment, listening. The sound of muffled sobbing reached her ears, confirming her worst fears.
Taking a deep breath, Minerva knocked softly. “Chastity? It is me. May I come in?”
There was no answer, only the faint sound of movement on the other side of the door.
Minerva tried again, her voice more pleading this time. “Chastity, please. Let me in.”
“No!” came the sharp, tearful reply from inside. “Leave me alone!”
Minerva winced at the harshness in her sister’s tone, but she refused to give up. “Please, Chastity, just tell me what happened.”
The door remained closed, but this time, Chastity’s sobbing grew louder. “You want to know what happened?” she cried through her tears. “He has gone, Minerva! He has gone, and it is all your fault!”
Minerva froze, her hand still resting on the doorknob. “What do you mean, gone?” she asked carefully, though she already knew the answer.
Chastity’s voice cracked as she continued, her words laced with anger and despair. “He broke it off! He said he was tired of being treated like some... some secret! That he wanted more than stolen moments and hidden glances. He said he couldn’t bear it anymore, and it is all because of you!”
Minerva’s heart ached at the sound of her sister’s pain. “Chastity, I never meant to—”
“You never meant to!” Chastity interrupted, her voice rising with each word.
“You have been smothering me, Minerva! Always hovering, always interfering, always judging! He said it was because of you that we had to keep everything a secret! He said I couldn’t stand up to you, and now—now he has gone! ”
Minerva’s chest tightened with guilt. She had been so focused on protecting Chastity, so determined to shield her from any potential scandal, that she had not realized the cost of her actions. And now, her sister was heartbroken—and blaming her for everything.
“I was trying to protect you,” Minerva said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I only wanted to keep you safe.”
“I do not need your protection!” Chastity yelled, her voice thick with emotion. “I never asked for it! All I ever wanted was to live my own life, to make my own choices—but you wouldn’t let me!”
“I am sorry, Chastity,” Minerva whispered through the door. “I thought I was doing what was best.”
“Best for who?” Chastity spat. “For me? Or for you?”
The accusation stung, but Minerva couldn’t deny that there was truth in her sister’s words. She had been so focused on protecting Chastity that she hadn’t considered what her sister might truly want.
She had been too caught up in her own fears of scandal, of heartache, to see that Chastity needed the freedom to make her own choices—even if those choices led to pain.
Minerva swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She had not realized how much she had stifled her sister, how much she had pushed her into a corner, all in the name of protection.
“Chastity...” Minerva began, her voice faltering as she struggled to find the right words. “I am sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”
But her apology was met with silence. Chastity’s sobbing had subsided, but the coldness behind her closed door made it clear that forgiveness would not come easily.
“Please, just let me in,” Minerva tried again, her hand resting gently on the door. “Let me talk to you.”
But the door remained firmly shut.
“Go away!” Chastity’s voice came, muffled but still sharp. “I do not want to talk to you!”
Minerva stood there, helpless, her heart breaking at the sound of her sister’s rejection. She wanted to fix things, to make it right, but she did not know how. Everything she had done—all her efforts to protect Chastity—had only driven them apart.
After a few more moments of silence, Minerva stepped back from the door, her shoulders heavy with her guilt. Chastity wasn’t ready to talk. Perhaps she never would be.
With a heavy sigh, Minerva turned and slowly made her way down the hallway, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts.
She had tried to keep Chastity safe from men like Evan, to shield her from the pain of a broken heart, but in doing so, she had only caused more harm. Now, it wasn’t just her sister she needed to protect from men like Evan—it was herself too.
As Minerva descended the staircase, her mind still weighed down by the conflict with Chastity, she found herself pausing at the base of the steps.
She had no idea how to fix this, no idea how to reach her sister.
Her heart ached for the girl who had once looked up to her, who had trusted her, and now saw her as the enemy.
Lost in thought, Minerva almost did not notice the figure standing by the parlor door until a familiar voice broke through her haze.
“Minerva?”
She turned, startled, to see her father standing in the doorway, his gray hair illuminated by the flickering light of the nearby lanterns.
His presence was calm, as always, but tonight, she noticed something else—a weariness in his posture, years of responsibility and sorrow etched in the lines of his face.
“Father,” she greeted softly, forcing a small smile, though it barely reached her eyes.
Lord Bellington looked at her for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. “You have spoken with your sister?”
Minerva’s shoulders slumped. “I tried,” she admitted. “But she won’t speak to me. She blames me for... everything.”
Her father nodded slowly, his gaze distant as though he were remembering something from long ago. “Your sister’s young,” he said after a pause. “She feels things intensely, much like your mother did.”
Minerva’s breath caught at the mention of her mother. It was rare for her father to speak of her, even though Minerva often saw glimpses of her mother in both Chastity and herself. She stepped closer to her father, intrigued by his tone.
“Why do you say that?” Minerva asked carefully.
Her father gave a soft chuckle, a fond smile playing on his lips.
“Your mother was more interested in living life the way she saw fit. But she loved deeply, with her whole heart.” He sighed, his gaze softening as he looked at Minerva.
“And, like you, she always took it upon herself to protect others.”
Minerva blinked, caught off guard by the comparison. “I am not... like her,” she said quietly. “I have never been as brave or... as free-spirited.”
Her father shook his head, stepping closer to her. “You are more like her than you realize. You have always put others before yourself—Chastity, the family... But you forget, Minerva, that you also have a life to live. Your own desires, your own hopes.”
Minerva swallowed hard, the words hitting her unexpectedly. “I do not—” She stopped herself, unsure of what to say. “I do not know what I want.”
Her father studied her for a moment, his expression softening even more. “Perhaps you do, but you have spent so long caring for everyone else that you have buried it.”
Minerva felt her chest tighten at his words. She had always focused on her duties, on protecting Chastity, on keeping everything in order. But what about her own dreams? Her own future?
Lord Bellington placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “When your mother and I first met, she was... hesitant to let herself fall in love. She had spent so much of her life trying to be strong for her family that she forgot to let anyone be strong for her.”
Minerva looked up at her father, her heart aching at the thought of her mother’s struggles.
“Your mother taught me that love isn’t about control, or keeping everything perfect. It is about allowing yourself to be vulnerable, to trust someone else to share the burden with you.”
Minerva blinked back the sudden sting of tears in her eyes, her father’s words sinking in. She had been so focused on controlling everything, on protecting Chastity from the world, that she had closed herself off from her own feelings—her own vulnerability.
Her father’s gaze softened even more as he looked at her. “Minerva, you have done so much for your sister, but you also deserve to find happiness for yourself. Have you thought about what you truly want? What makes you happy?”
Minerva hesitated, unsure of how to answer.
What did she want? For so long, she had pushed her own desires aside, convinced that her role was to protect her family.
But now, standing here with her father’s gentle encouragement, she felt the stirrings of something deeper—something she had not allowed herself to acknowledge before.
“I do not know,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I do not know what I want anymore.”
Her father gave her a kind smile, his eyes full of understanding. “That is all right. You have time to figure it out. But do not forget, Minerva... you deserve to live your life, too.”
Minerva nodded, her heart heavy with her father’s words.
She had spent so long focused on keeping everything in control, on protecting Chastity from the world, that she had forgotten to think about her own happiness.
And now, standing here, she realized that maybe, just maybe, it was time to start thinking about herself.
Lord Bellington placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip gentle but reassuring. “Give her time. She’ll come around.”
There was a long pause as Minerva absorbed his words, feeling both overwhelmed and comforted at the same time.
“I miss her,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Mother... she always seemed to know what to do.”
Her father nodded, his own eyes misting with the memory. “She would be proud of you, Minerva,” he said quietly. “You have done so much for this family. But now it is time for you to live your own life, to find your own happiness.”
Minerva swallowed hard, her throat tight as she met his gaze. “Thank you, Father.”
Lord Bellington gave her a gentle smile, his eyes filled with quiet pride. “You’ll figure it out, my dear. Just don’t be afraid to let go.”
Minerva nodded, her heart heavy but grateful for his words. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to wonder what her own happiness might look like.
And as she stood there, alone in the quiet house, Minerva realized that perhaps it was time to start thinking about herself—for once.