Chapter 26 #3
“Philosophy and nature became a refuge. If I could reduce the world to observable facts, if I could classify every feeling as a biological function, then nothing could ever hurt me again. I thought that if I studied the world hard enough, I wouldn’t have to feel it.
I thought I could shield myself from loss. ”
She looked at him. “So when I grew up, I stayed trapped in that armor. I refused to acknowledge change. I refused to recognize my own heart. I convinced myself that logic was supreme, and that anyone who fell prey to emotion was simply weak.”
“Seraphina,” William said again, softer this time. “Where is all of this coming from? You do not need to explain yourself to me. In fact, I am the one who has explaining to do.”
“I do need to,” she insisted, leaning forward, her hands coming out of her muff to grip the edge of the seat. “I must say it, William. I need to take responsibility for my own foolishness. You were right. Euphemia was right. Leonora was right. Everyone saw what was happening except me.”
She swallowed against the tightness in her throat.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I am so terribly sorry for being so stubborn, and for refusing to admit what was... growing between us. If I had not been so afraid, if I had simply been honest weeks perhaps we would not be sitting in this awkward silence today. Perhaps I would not have made things so difficult for you.”
William stared at her, his jaw set tightly.
“I have come to care for you, William. Deeply,” she said. “It is a foreign, terrifying thing, and it completely defies every law of logic I have ever lived by, but it is the truth.”
Seraphina felt a strange, profound sense of peace wash over her, even as her heart bruised. She had said it. The truth was out in the open air, clear and undeniable.
“You do not need to say anything,” she added quickly, giving him a smile.
“I know our contract. I know the parameters of our arrangement, and I am a woman of my word. I will not ruin this. Like I have said, I will not demand anything of you, nor will I stand in the way of the annulment when this is finished. I simply... I wanted to become a better person than the arrogant girl who walked into Norwyn Manor. I wanted you to know that I am no longer hiding.”
William parted his lips, his hand moving across the gap between their seats, reaching toward her.
“Seraphina...” he began. “I am so sorry that I made you feel the need to apologize.” He shook his head, leaning closer. “I have not been truthful with you either. I thought we could have this conversation later... when all of this is done. I was... cruel.”
“No, that is... you were not —”
“Yes, I was,” he interrupted. “I made it seem like it was your burden to bear. Like you had to handle the matters of the heart because I was this master of detachment.”
Overwhelmed, her breath trembling in her chest, Seraphina looked away, unable to hold his gaze a second longer.
She turned her face toward the window, intending only to collect her shattered composure as the carriage began to slow down, turning off the main road onto a drive flanked by tall, overcast trees.
Her gaze drifted casually past the glass, and then froze.
A rush of confusion hit her in that moment, and Seraphina could have sworn she was seeing things. Her brow furrowed, as her mind violently recoiled against what her eyes were seeing.
What on earth...?
Whatever William said next turned into hollow, meaningless noise. His voice faded into a muffled, distant hum, like water rushing over stone, entirely drowned out by the pounding of her own blood in her ears. She wasn’t hearing a single word he was saying anymore.
Her hands moved on instinct, pushing the curtain further aside, her face coming inches from the cold glass as the carriage rocked smoothly along the gravel drive.
The house beyond the wrought-iron gates was sprawling and grand, flanked by ancient weeping willows and manicured gardens sleeping under the winter frost. It was a silhouette etched into her very bones. She could drawn every room inside it in her sleep.
She knew every brick. She knew every curve of the ironwork. She had spent over a decade of her life running through those gardens.
“Wait...” she whispered, cutting right across whatever he was saying, the word slipping past her lips.
William looked at her, rising slightly from his seat to fetch his cloak. “What is it?”
“Where are we?” she demanded, turning to him, her eyes wide with bewilderment. “I mean, I know where we are, but why are we here?”
“We are at the address,” William said, frowning as he looked out the window. “This is her home. To be honest, I did not expect such a grand estate—”
“William, this is not...” Seraphina interrupted, her voice rising as she shook her head. She pressed her face closer to the glass. “You must be mistaken.”
William froze, snapping back to look at her. “What are you talking about?”
“This is my home.” Seraphina gasped, turning to him. “This is Lady Byron’s estate. What are we doing here?”