20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

E velyn's eyes flew open, her heart racing as she jerked awake. Sunlight streamed through the window, painting the room in a warm glow. She blinked, disoriented, realising she had fallen asleep atop the covers, still fully dressed.

Her gaze fell on the small table near the window, where a tray of breakfast sat waiting. The sight of it made her stomach churn. How long had it been there? Who had brought it? The thought of someone entering while she slept, seeing her in such a vulnerable state, made her cheeks burn.

Evelyn forced herself to rise, smoothing her wrinkled dress with trembling hands. She approached the tray, eyeing its contents: a pot of tea, a small plate of toast, and a dish of preserves.

The tea had long since gone cold. She poured herself a cup anyway, more out of habit than desire. The china rattled slightly as she lifted it to her lips, her nerves making her hands unsteady. The tepid liquid did little to soothe her anxiety.

Evelyn picked up a piece of toast, turning it over in her hands. The mere thought of eating made her feel ill, her stomach a tight knot of apprehension. What would the day bring? Would she be packing her trunk in earnest, forced to leave the manor and the girls she had grown so fond of?

She took a small bite, the toast dry and tasteless in her mouth. Evelyn chewed mechanically, her mind racing. Perhaps she should seek out the Baron, plead her case. But no, that would be unseemly. She was a governess now, not a lady of leisure. She would wait to be summoned, to learn her fate.

The toast sat like lead in her stomach. Evelyn set the remainder aside, unable to force down another bite. She sipped at her tea instead, willing her nerves to settle.

A sharp rap at the door startled Evelyn from her anxious reverie. She nearly spilt her tea, hastily setting the cup down with a clatter.

"Come in," she called, her voice sounding strained to her own ears.

The door creaked open, revealing one of the footmen. His face was a mask of polite indifference as he delivered his message. "Miss Bane, the Baron requests your presence in his study."

Evelyn's heart plummeted. This was it, then. The moment she'd been dreading since their argument the day before. She nodded, not trusting her voice, and the footman withdrew.

For a moment, Evelyn sat frozen, her mind racing. She smoothed the bodice of her dress as she stood, acutely aware of how rumpled it was from her night spent atop the covers. There was no time to change, no way to make herself more presentable. She would have to face whatever came as she was.

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn stepped out into the corridor. The manor seemed unnaturally quiet, the usual bustle of servants and children conspicuously absent. Her footsteps echoed hollowly as she made her way towards the stairs.

Each step felt heavier than the last as Evelyn descended. The portraits of stern-faced Ayles ancestors seemed to glare down at her, their painted eyes full of judgement. She fought the urge to quicken her pace, to run back to her room and hide.

The journey to the Baron's study stretched interminably. Evelyn's legs felt like lead, her chest tight with dread. She found herself counting her steps, anything to distract from the hammering of her heart.

At last, she stood before the heavy oak door of the study. Evelyn raised her hand to knock, then hesitated. She closed her eyes, drawing in a steadying breath. Whatever lay beyond that door, she would face it with dignity.

Evelyn rapped her knuckles against the solid oak, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor. She steeled herself, squaring her shoulders as she heard the Baron's muffled voice bid her enter.

The study door swung open with a creak, revealing the Baron standing behind his imposing desk. His face was a mask of impassivity, giving no hint as to his thoughts or intentions. Evelyn felt her heart skip a beat, but she refused to let her trepidation show. She mirrored his stiff demeanour, clasping her hands before her to still their trembling.

"You wished to see me, my lord?" Evelyn's voice came out steadier than she'd dared hope, betraying none of the anxiety churning within her.

The Baron's grey eyes met hers, his gaze piercing. "Indeed, Miss Bane. Please, come in."

Evelyn stepped into the study, the scent of leather-bound books and tobacco smoke enveloping her. She stood before the desk, her back ramrod straight, chin lifted ever so slightly in defiance. If this was to be her dismissal, she would face it with dignity.

The Baron's scarred face remained inscrutable as he studied her. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Evelyn fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny, instead meeting his gaze with a calm she did not feel.

"I've been considering our...discussion from yesterday," the Baron finally spoke, his tone carefully neutral.

Evelyn inclined her head slightly, not trusting herself to speak. She watched as the Baron's fingers drummed once, twice on the polished surface of his desk—the only outward sign of any inner turmoil.

"It is sometimes...difficult for a party that has been incorrect to admit this, and to rectify it," the Baron continued, his voice clipped and precise.

Evelyn stared at the Baron, her brow furrowing slightly as she processed his words. The tension in his jaw, the careful precision of his speech—it dawned on her that he was struggling to apologise. A flicker of surprise passed through her, quickly replaced by a cautious hope.

The Baron cleared his throat, his gaze dropping momentarily to the papers on his desk before meeting her eyes once more. "Miss Bane, it has become... apparent to me that your actions and convictions stem from a genuine desire for the well-being of my family."

Evelyn's breath stilled, trapped in her chest. She remained silent, scarcely daring to move lest she break the fragile moment.

"Even when we find ourselves at odds," the Baron continued, his voice growing firmer, "I cannot deny that your intentions are... commendable. You have shown a level of dedication to my daughters that goes beyond mere duty."

A warmth bloomed in Evelyn's chest, chasing away some of the cold dread that had gripped her since their argument. She allowed herself to relax slightly, her shoulders losing some of their rigidity.

"While I may not always agree with your methods," the Baron said, a hint of his usual gruffness returning to his tone, "I cannot fault your motivations. It is... refreshing to encounter someone so invested in the girls' futures."

Evelyn felt a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She inclined her head slightly, acknowledging his words. "Thank you, my lord. I assure you, the girls' well-being is my utmost priority."

The Baron nodded, a flicker of something—approval, perhaps?—passing across his features. "Indeed. It is for this reason that I have decided..."

Evelyn's heart leapt into her throat as the Baron reached into his desk drawer. Her eyes widened as he withdrew a familiar piece of paper—her letter of acceptance. The sight of it made her blood run cold, memories of penning those words flooding back. She had been so eager, so hopeful then. Now, that same letter might spell her doom.

The Baron held the letter between his fingers, his gaze flicking between it and Evelyn. She stood rooted to the spot, scarcely daring to breathe. This was it, then. He would invoke the terms of her trial period, send her packing back to London in disgrace.

"Miss Bane," the Baron's voice cut through the silence, "I have decided to dispense with the trial period."

Evelyn blinked, certain she had misheard. The Baron's face remained impassive as he turned towards the nearby candle, its flame flickering softly. With deliberate slowness, he held the corner of the letter to the flame.

The parchment caught quickly, orange tongues licking up its edges. Evelyn watched, transfixed, as the words she had so carefully crafted disappeared into ash. The Baron held the burning letter until the last moment, then dropped it into a metal wastebasket where it smouldered into nothing.

"Your position here is no longer conditional," the Baron said, turning back to face her. "You have proven yourself more than capable, Miss Bane. I trust you will continue to serve this household with the same dedication you have shown thus far."

Evelyn's mind reeled, struggling to process this unexpected turn of events. Relief washed over her in waves, mingled with a surge of pride. She had done it. Against all odds, she had earned her place here.

"Thank you, my lord," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I am honoured by your trust. I assure you, I will not disappoint you."

Evelyn stood before the Baron, her heart still racing from the unexpected turn of events. She watched as a hint of satisfaction played across his features, his grey eyes softening ever so slightly. The tension that had hung between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by a tentative warmth.

"I trust this arrangement is satisfactory to you as well, Miss Bane?" the Baron inquired, his voice carrying a note of approval she had rarely heard before.

"Yes, my lord," Evelyn replied, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "I am most grateful for your confidence in me."

For a moment, Evelyn allowed herself to bask in the glow of her success. She had done it—she had secured her position, proven her worth. The sense of accomplishment swelled within her chest, a heady feeling of triumph.

But as quickly as it had come, the elation began to fade. A sobering thought crept into her mind, dampening her spirits. Evelyn's smile faltered, her brow furrowing slightly as the realisation struck her.

She had sought independence, had relished the idea of earning her own wage, yet here she stood, her future once again in the hands of a man. The Baron's word may have secured her position for now, but it could just as easily take it away. One misstep, one disagreement, and she could find herself cast out with nowhere to turn.

Evelyn's gaze dropped to the metal wastebasket where the ashes of her acceptance letter still smouldered. The sight of it, once a symbol of her newfound security, now seemed to mock her. She had traded one form of dependence for another, exchanging the constraints of her old life for the precarious position of a governess.

The weight of her situation settled upon her shoulders like an unwelcome lead shawl, heavy and unyielding. Evelyn forced herself to meet the Baron's eyes once more, maintaining her composure even as doubt gnawed at her insides. She was grateful, yes, but the price of her gratitude was a stark reminder of her vulnerability.

The Baron's brow furrowed as he observed her. "Miss Bane, is something amiss?"

Evelyn startled, realising her inner turmoil must have shown on her face. She quickly schooled her features into a mask of polite neutrality. "No, my lord. It's nothing of consequence."

She turned to leave, eager to escape the suffocating confines of the study and sort through her jumbled thoughts in private. Before she could take a step, she felt a gentle pressure on her arm. The Baron's hand rested there, light yet firm, halting her retreat.

"Miss Bane," his voice was softer now, tinged with concern. "I assure you, if something troubles you, I would hear of it."

For a moment, Evelyn struggled to find her breath. The warmth of his hand seeped through the fabric of her sleeve, a stark contrast to the chill of uncertainty that gripped her heart. She turned back to face him, her eyes meeting his. The genuine concern she saw there made her resolve waver.

For a moment, Evelyn considered confiding in him, laying bare her fears and frustrations. But the words caught in her throat. How could she explain the paradox of her situation? That his very act of kindness had only served to highlight her lack of true independence?

Evelyn hesitated, caught between her desire to maintain a professional distance and the unexpected warmth in the Baron's gaze. His hand remained on her arm, a gentle anchor in the storm of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"My lord, I... I am truly grateful for your trust and the security you've offered," Evelyn began, her voice low and sincere. "But I find myself in a rather perplexing situation."

The Baron's brow furrowed slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"You see, I came here seeking independence, a chance to make my own way in the world," Evelyn explained, her words gaining strength as she spoke. "And while I've found great satisfaction in my work with the girls, I've realised that my position is still... precarious."

She glanced down at the wastebasket, where the ashes of her letter lay. "My future, my very livelihood, still rests in the hands of another. In your hands, my lord. And while I don't doubt your integrity, the fact remains that I am still beholden to the whims of... of a man."

Evelyn felt her cheeks flush as she spoke, but she pressed on. "What I truly crave, what I've always longed for, is true independence. The ability to stand on my own two feet, to make my own choices without fear of... of losing everything at a moment's notice."

She looked up, meeting the Baron's gaze once more. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes remained fixed on her, attentive.

"I know it may sound ungrateful, especially after your kindness," Evelyn continued, her voice softening. "But I hope you can understand. It's not about you, my lord. It's about... about having control over my own destiny."

Evelyn's heart raced as the Baron remained silent, his grey eyes fixed upon her. She fought the urge to fidget under his intense gaze, her breath hitching suddenly. Had she overstepped? The silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring.

Just as Evelyn opened her mouth to apologise, to take back her words, the Baron's expression shifted. The stern lines of his face softened, replaced by a look of thoughtful consideration. He gestured towards the chair across from his desk, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

"Please, Miss Bane, sit."