Chapter 27 #3
“I did not go to London to abandon you,” Seraphina said softly.
“I went because Euphemia needed me. Because Leonora needed me. Someone had to look out for them. I wasn’t too excited about the prospects of marriage when I went to London, you know this.
” She paused, glancing briefly at William, who was watching her.
“I did not write to you because I was confused, and overwhelmed, and... and I did not know how to explain what was happening to my heart without feeling as though I was failing the standards you set for me.”
Lady Byron looked up, her eyes searching Seraphina’s face. “You have not failed anyone, child. Except perhaps in your choice of husband’s family history.”
A tiny, breathless smile touched Seraphina’s lips. She looked down at her hands, taking a deep breath as a realization settled over her.
The blackmailer was not a sinister enemy plotting her demise. It was not a figure waiting to destroy her life. It was merely the desperate, misguided scheme of a lonely woman who loved her. A tragedy born of old wounds and misplaced fear. The nightmare that had haunted her for months was over.
William, however, seemed far from pacified. He stepped forward; the tension in his shoulders had not eased an inch. If anything, his eyes burned with a defensive fury.
“I notice that I have not yet heard a proper apology,” William said.
Seraphina blinked, turning to look at him in astonishment.
“You put Seraphina through months of torment,” William continued, glaring down at Lady Byron with this fierce protectiveness in his eyes that made Seraphina’s chest tighten.
“You watched her panic, you watched her doubt her own mind, and you drove her to absolute desperation, all for the sake of your own loneliness. Seraphina deserves a proper apology, Lady Byron.”
Seraphina stared at him, as a warm sensation blooming inside her.
Throughout the entire course of this confrontation, William had grown increasingly, furiously upset strictly on her behalf.
He was standing up to Lady Byron, a woman who had intimidated half the county for decades, without a single shred of hesitation, shielding Seraphina.
It made her feel cherished, a feeling so sweet and overwhelming that she had to force herself to suppress a breathy laugh.
She tried desperately not to let it get to her head, but she could not deny how good it felt to have someone fight for her.
Lady Byron looked at William for a moment, then turned her gaze back to Seraphina. Surprisingly, there was no anger in her face.
“It is without a reasonable doubt, Seraphina, that I am deeply, truly sorry,” Lady Byron said.
“I stopped sending those letters weeks ago because I realized what a mistake I was making. The moment I learned you had married the Duke, I knew my foolish plan had failed entirely. I knew the day would inevitably come when you figured out the truth, either on your own or with the help of your new husband.”
“I have been preparing my apology to you ever since,” she murmured.
“I know I do not deserve your forgiveness immediately. But it would be... exceptionally nice if you were to visit from time to time. We could have our old discussions on politics. I have acquired several new volumes that I have been saving to show you. I should like very much for us to return to old times, even if only for a little while.”
She let out a sigh, looking down at her hands.
“I suppose it is old age creeping up on me,” Lady Byron added softly.
“It brings out a strange loneliness, and a recklessness in action that my younger self would have thoroughly despised. In my youth, I would never have resorted to such underhanded schemes. But time makes cowards of us all, I fear.”
Seraphina felt the final remnants of her anger melt away. “Lady Byron,” she said quietly. “There are things... parameters of my marriage to William... that you do not yet know.”
William shifted slightly behind her, but remained silent.
“I cannot explain everything today,” Seraphina continued smoothly.
“But I will not be living in Mayfair forever. In time... perhaps very soon... my duties will conclude. When they do, I will return here. I will come home to this estate, and we shall resume our work on the column, just as we always did. Would one daughter suffice, if you cannot have all three?”
“Yes,” Lady Byron whispered, her voice barely audible. “One would suffice remarkably well.”
Seraphina let out a long breath, a weight lifting from her shoulders that she hadn’t realized she was carrying. She turned slowly to face William.
He was standing near the hearth, watching her with an expression she had never seen on his face before.
He looked baffled, his dark brows furrowed, and he was not blinking as he stared at her.
Seraphina couldn’t help but archer eyebrows too.
The look on his face was... puzzled, intense, and questioning.
Like she had said something he did not agree with.
Seraphina offered him a smile, one of pure relief. But he did not smile back.
It was over. The threats, the fear, the shadow hanging over her pen, it was all gone, and as she looked into William’s searching eyes, she knew that whatever lay ahead of them on the road back to London, she was no longer afraid to face it.