Chapter Nineteen
Sebastian guided Tempest through Brighton’s narrow streets as afternoon shadows lengthened across the cobblestones.
The familiar sounds and smells of the port city—shouting fishermen, creaking cart wheels, the tang of salt and fish—brought a bittersweet comfort.
He’d come to tell James everything that had transpired, to share the miraculous news that their father’s name could finally be cleared.
But more than that, he needed his brother to understand what had happened to his heart.
He dismounted outside the Stag & Anchor, his legs unsteady after the long ride.
The tavern looked exactly as it had when he left, with its weathered timbers, patched roof, the painted sign swaying in the sea breeze.
Through the grimy windows, he could see the familiar dim interior, a few patrons hunched over their ale.
Sebastian pushed through the heavy door, and the conversations faltered as heads turned his way.
He’d forgotten for a moment that he was still dressed in the attire from the ball.
The fine coat and clean boots marked him as someone who didn’t belong in this rough establishment.
If they only knew what he’d been through since the last time he’d stepped inside his brother’s tavern.
“Brother, is it really you?” James’s voice carried across the room, rich with disbelief.
James stood behind the bar, sleeves rolled up, a rag in his hands. He tossed the rag aside and came around the bar in quick strides.
“Sebastian.” James gripped his shoulders, searching his face. “You look fine, although tired. What are you doing here? Have you brought good news?”
“I’ve brought the best news.” Sebastian’s voice was rougher than he’d expected. “It’s good to see you. I’ve missed you.”
James pulled him into a fierce embrace, and Sebastian felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Whatever else happened, he had his family, his brother and sister who’d stood by him through everything.
“Come with me.” James stepped back. “Let’s go upstairs where we can talk properly. You look like you have quite a story to tell.”
James led him through a narrow door behind the bar and up creaking stairs to the small apartment above. The main room was sparse but clean: a table, two chairs, a narrow bed, and a few books on sagging shelves.
“Please sit.” James gestured to one of the chairs before moving to a small cabinet. “You look like you need a drink, and I suspect I will too after whatever you’re about to tell me.”
“It’s been an extraordinary few weeks.”
James poured two glasses of whiskey and settled across from him. “You look like Papa. Dressed in such dapper clothing.” He gestured at Sebastian’s fine clothes.
Sebastian took a sip of whiskey, feeling it burn down his throat. “That’s because I am Sebastian Ashford again. Calling myself Doyle will no longer be necessary. Or will be, if the Crown accepts my petition.”
James went very still. “You’ve done it?”
“I have.”
“Tell me everything.”
So Sebastian did. He told him about Mr. Hale’s suspicions, about Rose’s recovered memories of that terrible night, about the constable’s investigation that had uncovered the full scope of Wentworth’s crimes.
He explained how Baron White had been arrested and sent to London, how her father had died during the confrontation, how the truth had finally come to light after all these years.
James listened without interruption, his expression cycling through shock, anger, and finally, a deep satisfaction.
“That blackhearted monster,” James said when Sebastian finished. “Finally, we know the truth. Not that we doubted Papa’s innocence, of course. It is exactly as he explained it to us before he was hanged. This is finally done. We can go forward with our lives.”
“The loss remains, but it’s easier to accept now that we have justice.”
“And this Rose—Lady Rose—she helped you uncover all of this?”
“She did more than help. She risked everything.” Sebastian’s voice grew intense.
“James, when she remembered what really happened that night, she could have stayed silent. She could have protected her father’s reputation, maintained her position in Society.
Instead, she chose justice. She chose the truth. ”
James turned back to him, studying Sebastian’s face. “You care about her.”
“More than care.” Sebastian met his brother’s eyes directly. “I’m in love with her, James. Desperately, completely in love with her.”
James returned to his chair slowly, his expression unreadable.
“Wentworth’s daughter,” James said quietly. “This is unexpected.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“Do you?” James leaned forward. “Because it sounds like you’ve fallen in love with the daughter of the man who destroyed our family.”
Sebastian felt his jaw tighten. “She’s not her father, James. She’s nothing like him.”
“Tell me about her.”
The simple request caught Sebastian off guard. He’d expected anger, perhaps even accusations of betrayal. Instead, James waited with genuine curiosity.
Sebastian struggled to find words. “She’s been virtually imprisoned her entire life, controlled and manipulated by a man who saw her as nothing more than a tool for his ambitions.
But instead of becoming bitter or cruel, she remained kind.
Compassionate. Everyone who works for her or spends time with her for any amount of time loves her. ”
“And when you told her who you really were?”
“She was hurt, yes. Confused. But I told her how I felt and that I was willing to walk away and leave it be. For her. For love.”
James was quiet for a long moment, turning his whiskey glass in his hands. “What did she say?”
Sebastian’s confidence faltered. “That’s where I grow uncertain. There have been moments when I was certain she shared my feelings, but I am not so sure.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure she could truly love someone who brought about her father’s downfall, even if he deserved it.
And no, she has not told me how she feels.
In fact, the night it all went down, she left the room without even looking at me.
Before I return to her and find out what’s in her heart, I needed you to know what had happened and see if you can accept her as my wife.
Should she have me, that is. Which is still very much in doubt. ”
James set down his glass and leaned back in his chair. “What kind of man was our father, Sebastian?”
The question seemed to come from nowhere. “He was good. Honorable. He loved his family. That most of all.”
“And if he were here now, knowing everything you’ve told me about Lady Rose and of your deep feelings for her, what do you think he would say?”
Sebastian considered this carefully. “He would say that a person shouldn’t be judged by their parents’ sins and that if I love her, then I should pursue her with everything in me.”
“Exactly.” James’s expression softened. “I think Papa would admire her courage.”
Relief flooded through Sebastian so suddenly it left him breathless. “You will accept her? If she’ll have me?”
“If you love her, then I will too,” James said with a slight smile.
Sebastian felt his throat tighten with emotion. “I was afraid you’d see it as a betrayal.”
“The only betrayal would be letting fear keep you from happiness.” James stood and moved to clasp Sebastian’s shoulder.
“You’ve spent years seeking justice for our father.
You’ve cleared his name and brought his killer to account.
If you’ve found love along the way—especially with a woman brave enough to stand against her own father for what’s right—then you have my blessing, brother. Completely.”
Sebastian covered James’s hand with his own. “Thank you. That means more to me than you know.”
“So what now? When do you plan to return to her?”
“Tomorrow. I need to know how she truly feels.” Sebastian paused, then smiled. “I need to tell her that I love her, not just as Sebastian the gardener, but as Sebastian Ashford. I want to offer her everything I am, everything I might become.”
“And if the Crown restores our title and fortune?”
“Then I’ll have more to offer her than just my heart.” Sebastian’s voice grew serious. “Which is what I want. I want to give her everything she deserves.”
James grinned. “Then let’s hope the Crown helps us.”
Before Sebastian could respond, shouts erupted from the tavern below, followed by the sound of chair legs scraping against wood.
James sighed. “I must return. Some of the fishermen get rowdy when they’ve had too much ale.
” He moved toward the door, then paused.
“Sebastian, whatever happens with Lady Rose, I’m proud of you.
You’ve accomplished something incredible, and if you’ve found love in the process…
well, that’s more than either of us dared hope for when this all began. ”
“I couldn’t have done it without your belief in me.”
“That’s what a brother’s for.” James smiled. “Now come downstairs. I’ll have Mrs. Honeycutt make you some supper. Tomorrow you ride back to claim your future.”
The weight that had been pressing on his chest for days was finally gone. James understood. James approved. More than that, his brother had helped him see that their father would have approved too.
Tomorrow, he would return to Wentworth Manor and lay his heart bare. Whatever Rose’s answer might be, he would face it knowing he had his family’s blessing and his father’s memory guiding him forward.