Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Emma

E mma sat in the warm, inviting parlor of Hanna’s home, her cheeks glowing from both the fire’s heat and the happiness swelling in her chest. Rain drummed gently against the windowpanes, a soft symphony underscoring the crackle of the cedarwood fire. The room was cozy and familiar, decorated with vases of fresh winter greenery and the faint scent of baking spices wafting from below stairs. Hanna and Arabella sat with her, their curiosity piqued as Emma recounted the events of the past few days.

“And then…” Emma hesitated, pressing her fingers to her lips as if holding the memory close. “He kissed me.”

Arabella, settled elegantly on the settee, clapped her hands together in delight, her sapphire gown catching the firelight. “Oh, Emma! That’s wonderful news! I knew things would come around. You deserve this happiness more than anyone.”

Hanna leaned forward from her chair, her hands folded in her lap. Her smile was gentler but no less warm. “It sounds as though Evan is finally showing you his true self. I’m so happy for you. Truly.”

Emma ducked her head, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “It feels... different now. Real. As though we’re no longer just fulfilling an agreement. He shared so much with me last night—things I don’t think he’s ever told anyone else. About his father, his mother...” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “I had no idea what he’d endured.”

Arabella’s joy dimmed slightly, her expression turning thoughtful. “It makes sense now, doesn’t it? The way he’s carried himself all these years, the choices he’s made. Men like Evan don’t end up as they are without reason.”

She exchanged a knowing glance with Hanna. “It’s not unlike what we endured with Father.”

Hanna sighed, her brow furrowing as she gazed into the flickering flames. “It’s tragic how deeply their actions ripple outward. It’s not just us who’ve been affected. Alexander, our marriages, even the children. Their cruelty casts such a long shadow.”

Emma nodded slowly, her mind drifting to their own childhood and the fear that had hung over their family like a storm cloud. “I see it in Evan,” she admitted softly. “That same shadow. He told me he’s spent his whole life trying not to be like his father, but the fear of it haunts him. He’s carried it for so long, and it’s shaped so much of who he is. I just... I want to help him let it go.”

Arabella reached over to squeeze Emma’s hand, her earlier cheer replaced with earnestness. “You’re already doing that, Emma. Just by being there for him, by seeing him for who he truly is. That’s the kind of love people dream of.”

Emma’s cheeks flushed at the word “love,” but she didn’t deny it. The warmth in her chest spoke for itself. “It’s strange,” she admitted. “After all my doubts and fears, I feel... safe with him now. As though the man I’ve come to know these past few weeks is the real Evan, not the version of him everyone else sees.”

Hanna smiled gently. “Love has a way of revealing truths, doesn’t it? And it changes us, too. For the better.”

Arabella, who had been silent for a moment, sighed wistfully. “You’re lucky, Emma. And so is Evan. I wish our mother could see the people we’ve become despite everything. It’s a miracle, really.”

Hanna’s expression softened, though her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “It is a miracle that all of us have turned out to be such decent people,” she agreed. “Especially Alexander. I was so angry at him for years, But now...” She shook her head. “Now I see that he was just trying to survive. Just like the rest of us.”

Emma felt a pang of understanding. “Evan said something similar. That he’s been fighting so hard not to become like his father that it’s shaped everything he does. But he’s realized that the fight has been holding him back. He wants to be better. For himself... and for me.” Her voice faltered slightly, but the truth of it steadied her. “And I believe he can.”

The fire crackled softly, and the rain continued its gentle rhythm against the windows. For the first time in years, Emma felt a profound sense of peace. She wasn’t alone in her struggles; her sisters had faced their own trials and emerged stronger. And now, she had Evan—a man she was beginning to realize she truly loved.

Hanna poured another round of tea, her smile returning as she placed the teapot back on the tray. “To new beginnings,” she said, raising her cup in a quiet toast.

Emma and Arabella followed suit, their cups clinking softly in the warm glow of the firelight. “To new beginnings,” Emma echoed, her heart full.

The afternoon sun peeked through intermittent clouds over Hyde Park as Emma and Brigitte strolled along the gravel paths. Brigitte’s mood seemed unusually buoyant, a delicate smile gracing her lips and a lightness to her step that Emma hadn’t seen in some time. She knew that her loyal maid had struggled to make the transition to their new home as much as Emma had in the beginning, but clearly she was beginning to feel more at east – perhaps also because she too sensed the change in the air between Emma and Evan.

Despite the soft breeze rustling the late autumn leaves, Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that her maid was distracted.

“You seem… happy,” Emma observed, adjusting her shawl as they passed a grove of trees. “It’s as though you’ve been carrying a delightful little secret.”

Brigitte gave a soft laugh, tilting her head toward her. “Do I usually scowl so much that my happiness surprises you?”

Emma chuckled. “Not scowl, precisely. But there’s something different about you. It’s as if you’ve been smiling all morning, even when you thought no one was looking.”

Brigitte shook her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh, Your Grace. You always read too much into things.”

Before Emma could press her further, their attention was drawn to the sight of Jeanne and Ophelia approaching from the far side of the path. Jeanne raised a hand in greeting as they drew near. Her warm smile was unmistakable, though her sharp eyes seemed to take in every detail. Beside her, Ophelia beamed at her friend, evidently as grateful to see her as Emma was to see Ophelia.

The two had managed to see one another on occasion, under the guise of going for walks. Jeanne and Brigitte arranged these meetings between the two of them, thought Emma was sure that Brigitte was glad to see so much of her cousin who’d lived in Italy with Ophelia for years.

“Emma,” Ophelia called and embraced her friend while beside them, the cousins did likewise.

“Ophelia, I am so pleased to see you,” she said while beside them, their maids greeted each other with equal enthusiasm.

“Well, well,” Jeanne said beside them as she spoke to Brigitte, each in their delightful French accents. It had surprised Emma that the two – thought both French – preferred to converse in English with one another, but she loved the way the language sounded tinged with their accents.

“Brigitte, you’re positively glowing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been struck by Cupid’s arrow.”

Brigitte’s cheeks turned a deep rose, and she lightly swatted Jeanne’s arm. “You’re insufferable, Jeanne. Must you always find something to tease me about?”

Jeanne grinned, undeterred. “Of course. It’s one of my greatest joys. Besides, I only tease when it’s warranted.”

Emma and Ophelia looked at one another and chuckled at the exchange between the two.

Brigitte narrowed her eyes but said nothing, her expression betrayed by a faint smile. Before Jeanne could needle her further, Ophelia intervened, stepping forward to link arms with Emma.

“Why don’t we leave these two to their sparring?” she suggested smoothly. “Come, Emma. Let’s find a quieter place to sit.”

Emma cast a curious glance at Brigitte as Ophelia steered her away, but her sister simply waved her off with a gesture that seemed unusually lighthearted. Jeanne’s low, melodic laughter followed them as they departed.

Once settled on a shaded bench near the Serpentine River, Emma turned to Ophelia.

Ophelia’s brow furrowed in thought. “What do you think Jeanne meant? About Brigitte?”

“I think it was an astute observation,” Emma said. “She does seem… happier than usual. Perhaps she’s grown fond of someone.”

“Who do you think it might be? I know Evan’s estate is large and he has many handsome employees.”

Emma tilted her head, considering the possibility. “I hadn’t noticed her taking an interest in anyone. But now that you mention it…” She paused, the memory of a recent ball resurfacing. “I think she likes Lord Weston. All the maids seem to.”

Ophelia’s expression turned serious. “Jonathan? Oh, Emma, I hope not. From what Evan has told me, Jonathan is the sort who flirts without thinking and rarely means anything by it. If Brigitte is fond of him, it could end badly.”

Emma frowned, her worry deepening. “I’ll speak to Evan about it. Perhaps he can intervene before things go too far.”

Ophelia looked surprised. “You and Evan are on such terms now? Discussing matters like this?”

Emma’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Oh, Ophelia, so much has happened. Evan and I…” Her voice faltered, and her cheeks warmed. “We’ve reconciled. And yesterday… we kissed.”

Ophelia gasped, her delight unmistakable as she clasped Emma’s hands. “Emma, that’s marvelous! I’d secretly hoped for this all along. You deserve happiness more than anyone.”

Emma’s smile faltered, and she lowered her gaze. “I don’t know if I do.”

“Stop,” Ophelia interrupted firmly. “You mustn’t feel that way. If anything, I’m relieved for Evan. I never thought he’d allow himself to find happiness, let alone with someone so deserving. You’ve done what I never could have.”

Emma looked up, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Ophelia hesitated, her gaze drifting to the river. “It’s not my story to tell,” she said softly. “But Evan once told me why he agreed to our arrangement. It wasn’t just for my sake. He truly believed he couldn’t ever love anyone. He was afraid of becoming like his father.”

Emma nodded, her chest tightening. “He told me about his father. And his mother. I can’t imagine how painful it must have been for him, carrying that alone.”

Ophelia smiled faintly. “I’m glad he finally shared it with someone. He’s stronger for it, Emma, and I think he’s better with you in his life.”

The conversation turned, and Emma eventually inquired about Ophelia’s own prospects. Ophelia sighed. “I’ve endured introductions to two gentlemen this week, both arranged by my grandmother. Neither suited me in the least, and I’ve refused to see them again. Now, Grandmother is suggesting I join a convent.”

“A convent?” Emma’s voice rose in disbelief. “Ophelia, surely you can’t mean it!”

Ophelia shrugged, a wry smile curving her lips. “It wouldn’t be the worst option. At least there, I wouldn’t be forced into a loveless marriage. And perhaps… perhaps I could find a way back to Massimo. I could run away, join him in Italy again.”

Emma’s heart softened at the quiet determination in her friend’s voice. “You’d leave everything behind to be with him?”

Ophelia’s eyes gleamed with resolve. “I would. I’ve already lost him once. I won’t let it happen again.”

Emma reached out, taking her friend’s hand. “Then I’ll help you. If you choose to join a convent as a cover, we’ll ensure it leads you back to Massimo.”

Ophelia’s grip tightened. “Thank you, Emma. Truly. I’ve missed our friendship more than I can say.”

“And I, you,” Emma replied sincerely. They sat in companionable silence, the gentle rippling of the Serpentine providing a soothing backdrop. After a time, Ophelia’s expression turned playful. “I heard about Lord Wren and Evan. Is it true Evan defended your honor?”

Emma laughed, recounting the incident with evident delight. Ophelia sighed wistfully when Emma concluded. “How romantic. That’s how Massimo and I met too, you know. He defended me from hoodlums in Venice. That’s when I knew I loved him.”

Emma’s heart swelled at the similarity. Then, a thought struck her. She hesitated but finally voiced it. “Ophelia… do you know who Rose is?”

Ophelia blinked, the name unfamiliar. “Rose? No, Evan never mentioned her. If she was someone from his past, he’s never confided in me.”

Emma nodded slowly, biting her lip. Perhaps it was time to leave the question of Rose in the past. What mattered now was the life she and Evan were building together—a future unclouded by old shadows.