Chapter 27

Lightning streaked across the sky as Greyson raced up the stairs. He had barely begun his meeting with the doctor when a footman came with a message for him to hurry back. The doctor followed close behind, having agreed to see his mother as soon as possible.

The door to her room was already open as they rushed to her side. The maid and Violet stood in the corner, softly crying, their hands covering their faces.

Violet looked up at Greyson, meeting his gaze for a moment.

His heart froze in his chest as he glanced toward the bed. Only a few hours had passed since he'd spoken to his mother, but somehow, her health had taken a turn for the worst. She lay motionless beneath the covers, her face deathly pale.

Greyson turned to the doctor. "Please, see to her."

The tall man with a thin mustache and stick-like limbs walked over to the bed and began his examination, placing his ear to the Dowager Countess's chest and lifting her thin wrist to check her pulse.

The maid was about to step forward and help, but Violet held her back and shook her head sorrowfully.

"Please, tell me it's not too late." Greyson felt the tears well up in his eyes despite his best efforts.

The doctor's reaction was enough to confirm his worst fears. He should have listened and stayed by her side instead of trying to achieve the impossible. The doctor had told him that there was little to no hope if she was indeed born with a weak heart, but that hadn't stopped him from hoping.

Placing her arm back on the bed, the doctor looked down at the Dowager Countess's sleeping form, before heaving a sigh. He looked at Greyson and shook his head, before walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "She is still with us, but I'm afraid that there is nothing you or I can do. Not even the best doctors in the world can bring her back at this point. Stay by her side and say your goodbyes. It won't be long now."

He gave a sympathetic smile before he left the room.

"No," Greyson uttered as his world began to fall apart.

How could it be possible that the only person who had never left him was fading from his world like mist in the sun?

Violet lifted her hand and clasped her throat as silent sobs racked her body. The atmosphere in the room was just as dark and hopeless as the thick drapes shutting out the light.

Greyson made his way over to the bed. He sat beside his mother and took her hand in his. Her skin was cold, almost too cold for a person whose breaths were still coming in irregular intervals. He hardly even noticed when Violet came to his side and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"She knew you went to see a doctor. She appreciated the effort you put in to save her, but she also knew that nothing could be done," Violet murmured soothingly.

Without thinking, Greyson reached up and placed his hand over hers. The welcome warmth of her skin stood in stark contrast to the coldness of his mother's hand. Death had a way of turning what was once beautiful into something as cold and unforgiving as a blizzard.

"I thought I could save her if I could only find a doctor who was willing to see her, but I was too late." Hot tears streamed down his face.

"You mustn't blame yourself, Greyson. Your mother didn't want you to spend the final months of her life at her bedside. She wanted you to live life to the fullest," Violet choked out.

"I would have kept her by my side if I had known."

Violet's words seemed to barely register in his mind, disappearing into the never-ending abyss. What did it matter what anyone said now? His mother was dying, and there was nothing he could do.

The finality hit him like a ton of bricks. Life was unfair, but death certainly took the cake.

Christina's breath slowed to the point where her chest hardly moved at all. The eerie silence that suddenly filled the room caused both Violet and Greyson to stiffen.

No, not yet.

His mother's maid came to the bed, lowering her ear to the Dowager Countess's lips. The look of pain on her face told them all they needed to know.

"I'm sorry, My Lord, Her Ladyship is no longer with us." The calm in her voice did little to quell the anger that burst into his chest.

"My condolences, My Lord. Her Ladyship meant a great deal to me and the people who serve in this manor. Her absence will be felt for many years to come. If you will allow me, I will announce her passing to the rest of the servants." The maid managed to keep her composure despite the tears running down her cheeks.

All Greyson could do was nod, looking at his mother's still body. Anyone who came into the room would have believed she was sleeping rather than dead. She looked so perfect, as if all the pain and anguish that had once been plain on her face had never existed.

It was hard to believe that the woman lying on the bed was the same woman who had begged his father not to leave them.

"Greyson?" Violet called as he came to his feet, balling his fists at his sides.

"I will send for the doctor," he spoke in a voice that even he didn't recognize.

"I can do that…" the maid offered, but Greyson had already turned and made his way to the door.

Nothing else mattered anymore. The only person who had loved him and never abandoned him was dead.

* * *

Violet exchanged a final glance with the maid before taking her letter from the dresser and tucking it into the pocket in her dress. Greyson would have to fetch his own letter when the time came. Now she needed to make good on her promise and be there for him.

Rushing down the stairs, she spotted him walking into the rain.

"Greyson, where are you going in this rain?" she yelled at his retreating back as she followed him outside.

The rain made it hard to see very far. She was drenched within seconds and prayed that the letter wasn't ruined.

"Go back inside, Violet. There is no need for you to be here anymore. You can ask the butler to escort you back home in the carriage." His voice was barely audible above the storm.

Ignoring his demands, she caught up to him and reached for his elbow. "Greyson, please wait, your mother asked me to help you once she had passed."

The rain droplets mingled with her tears, making it almost impossible to distinguish between the two.

Greyson rounded on her, glaring at her with bloodshot eyes. His usually messy hair stuck to his face in clumps. "Help me with what? Help me lie to more people before you decide that you need to leave again?" he barked at her and took a step closer. The anger in his expression caught her off guard.

"I didn't mean to leave you, Greyson, had I known what you wanted to ask…"

"You would have what? Stayed here and took pity on me because of my poor mother? I don't need your pity, Violet. I wanted you to be my wife. It's clear to me now that you never wanted that from the start." The hurt that lingered in his eyes darkened his usually bright green irises. "Don't do me any favors by staying now."

"You can't pin all of the blame on me. You knew our arrangement from the start. I would have said yes if you asked me to be your wife because I fell in love with you, Greyson. The only reason that I wanted things to end was that I was scared. You were the one who said you were growing tired of me!"

Her bottled-up emotions burst, bringing with them all the pent-up anger and hurt. Deep down, she knew that it wasn't the right time, but he'd forced her hand.

The truth needed to come out sooner or later—he needed to know that she loved him.

Greyson opened and closed his mouth as if he'd been slapped. "If you loved me, then why didn't you say anything at the time? You waited until I'm at my most vulnerable to tell me the truth?" he asked in a softer voice.

"I didn't want to tell you this way, but it's not like you've left me with any other choice. Neither of us can agree on anything." A shiver ran down her spine as the chilly rain seeped through her dress and corset.

"I guess we should never get married, then. Things would be quite difficult for us if we could never agree on anything. It would have been foolish of us to spend the rest of our lives together."

His words managed to shatter her already broken heart even further.

He didn't say he loves me.

The cold realization almost made her legs give out. It seemed that she had been right in assuming that he didn't love her. Even if he had wanted her to be his wife, it didn't mean that he loved her. Not in the way that she loved him.

She drew a shuddering breath. "I guess you're right. It would have never worked if we had gotten married."

"There doesn't seem to be anything left to say, then." He wiped the water from his face.

She swallowed hard and held his gaze, wanting nothing more than to run away. "You know where to find me if you need any help with arranging the funeral."

Greyson nodded, refraining from saying anything else. The look of utter sorrow and defeat in his eyes had removed any traces of the carefree man she had known during their courtship.

Death had a way of removing pieces of a person, small pieces that went straight to the grave of a lost loved one. Nothing that Violet could have said to him would have persuaded him otherwise, not when he was in the throes of his grief.

"There is a letter for you on your mother's dresser. I suggest you read it. She left one for me as well, but I have already taken it."

The moment between them seemed to stretch out forever as they looked into each other's eyes.

Wordless messages of hope, betrayal, and even lost love traveled on the rain and disappeared into the earth at their feet.

"I never meant to hurt you. I hope you know that," Violet added when the silence became almost unbearable.

The clouds began to part as the rain ebbed, coming to a pitiful drizzle before petering out entirely.

"I don't think either of us ever meant to hurt each other."

The vague admittance was enough to let Violet know that their conversation had come to an end. Nothing more needed to be said between them.