Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maddie had never been so happy to see her friends pile through the chapel doors.
Charlene, wild-eyed and breathless, was first, her skirts hitched indecorously to her knees, as if she’d sprinted the last few yards. Ashley followed on her heels, stormy and fierce, and Sera swept in last with the composure of a queen surveying a battlefield.
“Oh, thank the stars!” Charlene cried, barreling down the aisle. “Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride,” Maddie muttered, still tucked tightly against Sebastian’s side. His scent—clean and familiar—steadied her. The moment he’d stepped into the church, she’d known she was safe.
No one would be hurt now.
After all, Paisley was grossly outnumbered.
And that gave her strength.
Ashley stormed up to Paisley, and to Maddie’s complete shock, slapped him. Hard. “You filthy rogue!”
Charlene followed suit before Paisley could blink.
The men surged forward, ready to restrain him if necessary, but the duke only staggered back, palm pressed to his cheek.
He let out a curse. “This is ludicrous! How dare you treat me this way!”
“You are the ludicrous one,” Sera snapped, her tone laced with disdain.
“Love,” the prince murmured, gathering her close.
Maddie smiled faintly. Right—they hadn’t seen each other in days.
She stepped forward now, finding her voice.
“He dragged me here,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Lied. Threatened me. Had the gall to plan this entire farce like it was a dinner party!”
“I should’ve broken his jaw first,” Sebastian growled.
Maddie reached for his arm. “No. You’d only get into trouble. Ashley and Charlene won’t.”
Ashley cracked her knuckles. “Please. I’ve always wanted to punch a blackguard. This felt like overdue justice.”
Charlene nodded solemnly. “He deserved far worse. I daresay I’d like another go.” She squared her shoulders, completely unrepentant.
Paisley, red-faced and sputtering, stumbled back. “You women are mad. Every last one of you!”
Sera tilted her head, examining him like a curious but unpleasant insect. “And yet we, in our madness, managed to uncover your scheme and bring it crashing down before the vicar spoke a single word. Remarkable, isn’t it?”
Paisley’s mouth opened—ready to bluster, or threaten, or lie—but the sight of four furious women halted whatever excuse he’d prepared. His gaze flicked to Maddie.
She didn’t flinch.
He sneered. “This is not over. You’ll regret humiliating me.”
“Oh, you blackguard,” Ashley said, folding her arms. “I’ve been waiting since my engagement for the chance to humiliate you.”
“You’ll regret everything,” he snarled at Maddie, ignoring her.
Sebastian stepped forward. “Say one more word to her and I will break your jaw. I’m not a duke; I’m worse. I have nothing to lose. That makes me a very dangerous man.”
Paisley flinched.
Maddie stared at Paisley with a strange sense of detachment—as though the girl who once trembled beneath his threats was someone else entirely. Some pale, frightened ghost in the corner of her mind.
But that girl was gone.
Or perhaps… she had finally woken up.
She stood taller now. Straighter. Not because Sebastian was near, though his presence was balm, but because her friends stood behind her, fierce, furious, and wholly unafraid.
And for the first time in days, Maddie allowed herself to feel something that had been buried beneath fear, shame, and second-guessing: Rage.
Clarifying, righteous rage.
She’d spent too long shrinking herself, walking on eggshells around her mother, trying to survive expectations that weren’t hers.
But no more.
This man—this petty tyrant in polished boots—had tried to control her future through threats.
And now he thought she’d regret humiliating him?
No.
She regretted only ever giving him the benefit of the doubt. Her gaze didn’t waver as he hissed his final warning. Let him spit threats. Let him stew in shame. She had her voice now. And she had something more dangerous than his title or threats.
She had courage.
It had come quietly at first, like a whisper, but now, it roared. She didn’t need rescuing. She had needed the space to rise.
And she just had.
Right here, in front of everyone.
Let Paisley flinch. Let the world watch. Maddie was done playing the part they wrote for her.
Paisley lunged.
Perhaps it was pride, or fury, or one final pathetic attempt to assert control—but he moved, quick and graceless, toward her.
And Maddie was ready.
She calmly slipped her hand into the small etui in her pocket, her fingers closing around the small glass vial of cayenne pepper she’d tucked there that morning on a beautiful, instinctual whim, and flung the powder straight into his face.
Paisley howled. Loud and unholy. His hands flew to his eyes as he stumbled backward, gasping, cursing, red-faced and blinded.
The room froze.
“My eyes!” the man hollered. “What have you done?”
Maddie arched a brow. “A woman must always carry something sharp. Sometimes it’s wit. Sometimes it’s cayenne.”
Ashley and Charlene burst into delighted laughter.
Sebastian’s jaw slackened before he broke into a grin so wicked it nearly matched Maddie’s.
Charlene murmured, “Oh, she’s terrifying. I love it.”
The vicar made a strangled noise.
Paisley slumped to the floor, wheezing like a bellows. No one moved to help him. From somewhere in the chapel, Maddie’s mother let out a sob. She’d all but forgotten about her presence since the prince’s arrival, but Maddie couldn’t provide any comfort now, nor did she wish to.
“You didn’t need me at all, did you?” Sebastian whispered in her ear.
She smiled at him. “No. But I wanted you.”
He kissed her temple. “You’re magnificent.”
*
Rage had never felt this liberating.
Not the blind, reckless kind that made men foolish.
No, this was the kind that sharpened the senses, that burned behind the eyes with relentless purpose.
It was a forge, and Sebastian was steel passing through it.
He wanted to strike. Every muscle in his body itched to move. To bury Paisley where he stood.
But Maddie stood beside him. Not hiding. Not cowering.
Her spine was straight, her chin high, her mouth set in a line that dared anyone to try her. The fire in her eyes wasn’t borrowed. It was hers. Earned.
And that steadied him more than anything ever could. He’d chosen her peace over his vengeance.
She didn’t need saving.
She needed someone ready to battle the world with her.
He was more than ready.
His gaze swept the chapel—a pitiful farce of a place.
Dried-out flowers wilting in cracked vases.
Threadbare pews leaning like old men tired of kneeling.
A vicar clutched his book of vows like it was a talisman against disaster.
Maddie’s mother had slipped out, as far as he could tell.
And in the center of it all, a coward in fine boots, undone by the very woman he’d tried to cage.
“This place,” Sebastian said, voice low, “feels more like a tomb than a chapel.”
Maddie didn’t look away from Paisley. But her hand slid into his. Warm. Sure. “Let’s go home.”
The words landed soft but steady—like a stone tossed into still water.
He nodded once. “Yes. Please.”
Ashley, behind them, cracked her knuckles with a mutinous sigh. “I was hoping for one more punch.”
“I know,” Charlene said, still eyeing Paisley. “He has a very slappable face.”
Ashley huffed. “Disappointing.”
Prince Alexander cleared his throat. “As delightful as this court of justice has been, I agree with Cambridge. Let’s leave this drafty ruin behind. I haven’t seen my wife in days, and I’d much rather be with her than among… this.”
“I am not cold,” Sera said—primly—but nonetheless pressed subtly closer to him. “But I wouldn’t object to a fire. Or wine. And perhaps… lemon cake.”
“Cake sounds excellent,” Charlene said. “Violence and dessert always pair well.”
Maddie turned to Sebastian, her voice softer now. “You truly came for me. Even when you thought I might have agreed to… this ridiculous engagement.”
He looked at her then—really looked at her—and let everything he felt pass through his gaze.
“I always will,” he said simply.
The vicar stepped forward, still clutching his little book, voice wavering. “My apologies—I didn’t know—”
Sebastian silenced him with a single glance. “You can forget this ever happened.”
The man nodded so fervently that his wig shifted sideways.
Paisley muttered something unintelligible, slumped in the corner with red eyes and what little remained of his dignity. No one looked at him.
He wasn’t worth it.
Sebastian laced his fingers with Maddie’s. “Come,” he said. “Let’s put this place behind us.”
She stepped into his side without hesitation.
They walked down the aisle, not as bride and groom—but as partners. Equals. The others fell in around them like a shield wall. Unruly, brilliant, loyal. They were friendship made flesh. Found family. Home.
Outside, the carriages waited.
So did the wind. And the snow. And the world.
Maddie glanced up at him as they stepped through the chapel doors. Her smile was soft and sure, the weight of the day finally shedding from her shoulders.
“Wherever you are,” she said quietly, “there is my home.”
He squeezed her hand. “And I’ll be there. Always.”
The door swung shut behind them.
And in its place, came warmth.
And freedom.