Chapter 29
“When will Uncle Evander be back?” George asked.
Caroline turned to him and gave the boy a sweet smile.
Evander’s visit yesterday had been woefully short, but even so, it was clear that George’s fear of adults was now a thing of the past, and the boy had taken a liking to her cousin almost immediately.
In fact, he was in awe of Evander’s stories, in which Evander claimed that he had been away sailing with the pirates.
Caroline knew the truth was far worse, but she truly appreciated the effort her cousin had made to bond with the boy.
“Hopefully soon, my love,” Caroline replied, reaching out to gently stroke back some of the dark curls from his forehead.
“I miss him,” George said, puckering his lips. “He had so many stories to tell me. And he even showed me what the pirates did to his hands! Will I be so big and tall if I eat all my food?”
“Of course you will, my boy,” Damien replied from his seat at the breakfast table.
Caroline turned to him, and even though she knew they were all sad over Evander’s departure, she still felt a lightness in her heart.
The three of them and Jeremy were all together for breakfast, as they had been for dinner for the last week, and were having their meals as a family on a regular basis.
Despite the heartache and fear, they had finally reached a place of normalcy, and she cherished it greatly.
“Perhaps you could fashion one of your wonderful dolls for him,” Caroline offered. “I am sure he would love it. We could send it to him to let him know we are thinking of him.”
George’s somber expression shifted at once into a grin, and he readily agreed. He was rambling excitedly about how he would make it look when Mr. Stones, the butler, appeared with the morning correspondence.
“Thank you, Mr. Stones,” Damien murmured, accepting his bundle.
“Thank you, old Stoney,” Jeremy said cheerfully, accepting his.
“And for you, Your Grace,” Mr. Stones stated, holding out a single letter for Caroline.
“For me?” she asked, shifting her curious gaze from the butler’s face to the letter in his hand.
“Yes, Your Grace,” he replied, still holding the envelope out to her.
“Curious,” she murmured, accepting the letter.
The only person she wrote or received letters from was Elara, and now that she was back, there was no need for them.
She looked at the front of the missive, thinking that it could be another update on the orphanage from Miss Willa, and her curiosity grew.
There was no return address, nor was there a postage mark.
Whoever had delivered it had been a personal messenger.
She broke the seal and opened it, and the moment her eyes landed on the familiar cursive handwriting, she felt her body grow cold. She sucked in a breath, suddenly growing dizzy as her hands began to shake.
“Caroline?” She heard Damien’s voice in the distance, as if he were some great length away instead of just a few scant inches. She parted her lips, but did not speak.
We have your marriage contract and will be releasing it to the papers.
Caroline gasped and startled as she felt a hand on her shoulder, her heart thudding in her chest even as she realized it was Damien, not Agatha.
“Angel, what is it?” he murmured, reaching toward the letter.
She let him take it, her stepmother’s written threats already burned into her memory.
“Jeremy, take George upstairs, would you?” she heard Damien say. Even though his deep voice lilted toward a question, she knew it was not a request, but a demand.
Jeremy must have known, too, because he quickly rose from his seat and walked toward George.
“Come on, my boy, perhaps you could show me how you make these wonderful dolls I hear so much about.”
Caroline heard George say his goodbyes, and their footsteps faded as she remained dazed and rooted to her chair.
“Treasonous witch,” Damien hissed the moment they were alone, and tossed the letter down to the table. “Caroline, angel, look at me,” he insisted.
When she did not move, he hunkered down by her side and gently grasped her jaw, turning her head for her.
She snapped out of her spell as she met his amber eyes, and she drew in a deep inhale as she lunged for him. Damien pulled her into his arms, raising her to her feet as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
“She is not going to stop,” she cried, feeling hot tears slide down her cheeks and onto Damien’s shirt. “She is never going to stop until she gets what she wants.”
“Shh, angel,” Damien soothed, stroking his hand down her back. “That is not true.”
“Yes, it is,” she insisted, pulling away to wipe her tears. “You saw what she wrote, Damien. She is going to ruin us one way or another.”
“She can try,” Damien snapped. “I will never let her hurt you.”
The force of his tone had Caroline’s eyes shooting up to his face, and she saw a mixture of rage and determination brightening his amber eyes.
“We shall end this,” Damien said, wrapping his hand around the nape of her neck to press her forehead against his. “Now.”
Caroline closed her eyes, lingering in the warm protection that was her husband’s embrace, and nodded.
She had once believed he was a liar, but she had come to accept that he was the ruthless man she always knew him to be.
This time, though, she understood something different: he would be ruthless not toward her, but for her.
She let Damien sweep her into a kiss. She waited, wanting those delicious, dizzying tingles to take over her and make her mind go blank.
Instead, his kiss filled her with strength, as if he was passing his determination to her through his lips, and as he pulled back, she drew in a breath and felt courage surge into her heart.
Damien’s hand slipped down to hers, and without a word, he led her out of the dining room and toward the foyer.
He threw open the front door as if he was ready to charge down the street with them toward Agatha’s—but as they stepped outside, they were met by Evander’s surprised face as his hand was raised to knock.
“Evander,” Damien muttered, his gaze still cold and determined as he met his old friend’s eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you had left?”
Concern flooded Caroline as she gazed into Evander’s blue eyes. Much of him appeared nearly the same as before—except for his eyes. They remained haunted, no longer holding those piercing shards of life they once had.
“I am about to,” Evander replied, looking from Damien to her. “I just needed to tell you something else.”
He took a step back onto the walk, and Damien closed the front door behind them before they joined him.
“I meant to tell you last night,” Evander went on, gripping his cane so tightly his knuckles turned white. “But we were all together. Everyone seemed so happy that I…”
He paused, a harsh mixture of longing and fear in his features as he bowed his head.
“I forgot,” he whispered. “I forgot for a moment that things were bad.”
“Do not dare apologize for feeling a moment of happiness, Evander,” Caroline gently urged. “God knows how we all need such moments. No matter how brief.”
“My wife is right, old friend,” Damien’s deep voice added softly. “And you came back. That is all that matters.”
Appreciation glimmered through Evander’s eyes, and he gave a stiff nod.
“I discovered something else,” Evander continued, looking at Caroline.
“Cousin, do not be mad at your husband, but when you two visited me, he shared some concerns about you. More specifically, about your stepmother. Agatha did not tell anyone that your father apparently left you nothing; she kept it a secret. Since she loves to show her power, I found that very strange. So I sent my men to the hall of records, and Caroline, the copy of the will they have on file for your father? It is a fake.”
Caroline’s brows shot up in surprise as her head began to spin, and it was only Damien’s tight grasp on her hand that kept her grounded.
“H-how is that possible?” she whispered.
Evander smirked, for the first time looking truly like his old self.
“I had my man filch it for me,” he murmured. “He brought it to me. My uncle and I were not close as adults, but when I was younger, when his brother and my father were still alive, we spent much time together. I know that man’s signature and Caroline, it is obvious that the document is forged.”
“There is more,” Evander continued before Caroline could ask any more questions. “My men are still digging, but it seems that your stepmother has been using your father’s money—money that I am sure he wanted for you—to participate in some rather nefarious business deals.”
Caroline’s breath slammed out of her chest as she heard the rest of the news. She had always believed her stepmother was a harsh person, but all of this—all of the extent she had gone to take from Caroline, from her father’s good name?
She tightened her free hand into a fist, feeling a tremble of rage move through her head all the way down to her toes.
“Thank you, Evander,” she seethed out, forcing her newly determined gaze up to him. “For telling me the truth.”
“It needed to be done,” Evander stated gravely.
“My dear old friend,” Damien rasped, and Caroline turned to him to see pride glimmering in his eyes for Evander. “Even when you are down, you still somehow manage to be the hero.”
Evander let out a bitter laugh.
“There is nothing heroic about my way of life,” he muttered, the cane in his hand beginning to creak from how tightly he was holding it.
“Evander, do not say such things,” Caroline pleaded, but as she reached her free hand toward his arm, he took a step back and shook his head.
“I need to be going,” he said hastily. “As I said, I enjoyed our time together, but being back in London is too much for me right now.”
“Go,” Damien gently insisted. “Take all the time you need. We have to pay Agatha a little visit.”