31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

A s the evening wore on, Evelyn was caught up in the warm glow of merriment that filled the manor's front lawns. The farmers and their wives had proven to be delightful company, their rough-hewn manners a refreshing change from the stilted propriety she'd known in London. She made an attempt to put her hair back in order, still marvelling at how comfortable she felt among these country folk.

Her eyes scanned the gathering, searching for the Baron's tall figure, but he seemed to have vanished. A twinge of disappointment flickered through her, quickly pushed aside. She'd hoped to share a moment with him, to see if his eyes held the same warmth she'd glimpsed during their dance earlier.

Instead, her gaze landed on Nell across the crowded hall. The maid's face lit up with a smile, and she raised her hand in a small wave. Evelyn returned the gesture, grateful for the friendly face amidst the sea of revellers.

The air had grown thick with pipe smoke and the heady scent of spilled ale. Several of the farmers swayed on their feet, red-faced and grinning as they bellowed out snatches of bawdy songs. Their long-suffering wives began to appear at their elbows, tugging at sleeves and whispering urgently about the lateness of the hour.

"Come along now, Tom," one woman chided, her voice carrying over the din. "The cows won't milk themselves come morning, drunk or no."

Evelyn bit back a laugh as she watched the exodus begin. Bleary-eyed men were steered towards the door by determined spouses, a few protesting weakly about "one more for the road".

She found herself oddly touched by the simple affection evident in these exchanges, so different from the cold marriages of convenience she'd witnessed in her previous life. The wives here didn't hesitate to lay their heads on their husbands' shoulders, and the husbands eagerly wrapped their arms about their wives' waists.

Evelyn lingered by the front door, watching the last of the guests depart. The cool night air whispered against her flushed cheeks, a welcome respite from the stuffy warmth inside. As the sound of laughter and creaking wagon wheels faded into the distance, she found herself alone with her thoughts.

The evening had left her feeling oddly content, yet a restlessness stirred beneath the surface. She wandered towards the gardens, her steps slow and aimless. The simple joy she'd witnessed between the farmers and their wives had awakened something within her—a longing she'd pushed aside for far too long.

Her mind drifted to Richard, and the whirlwind romance they'd shared. It had been intoxicating at the time, a heady rush of stolen moments and passionate declarations. But now, with the perspective of distance, she saw it for what it truly was: a tempest without substance.

Evelyn paused by a rose bush, its blooms silvered by moonlight. She reached out, gently tracing the velvet curve of a petal. What she'd witnessed tonight was different—a steady flame rather than a consuming blaze. The farmers and their wives shared a companionship built on years of shared joys and hardships, a love tempered by time and understanding.

A pang of emptiness echoed through her chest. For all the excitement of her affair with Richard, they'd never truly known each other. There had been no quiet moments of companionship, no shared dreams of a future together. It had been a fantasy, as insubstantial as morning mist.

Evelyn sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. The contentment of the evening had faded, leaving her acutely aware of the void in her life. She yearned for something real, something lasting. Not just passion, but partnership. Understanding. Trust.

Evelyn startled as a shadow fell across the rose bush. She turned to find the Baron standing beside her, his tall figure silhouetted against the deepening twilight. Her heart quickened, though she couldn't quite say why.

"My lord," she said, offering him a small smile. "I trust you found the day a success?"

The Baron's face was difficult to read in the fading light, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there earlier. He cleared his throat, seeming uncharacteristically ill at ease.

"Miss Bane," he began, then paused. "Evelyn," he ventured, looking as if he were tasting her name like a food he had just encountered. When Evelyn didn't correct him, the lines on his face lifted upward. "I wonder if I might impose upon you for a walk?"

Evelyn glanced towards the horizon, where only the faintest sliver of sun still clung to the edge of the world. "At this hour? Surely it's growing rather late..."

"Please."

The word hung between them, startling in its simplicity. In all their time together, Evelyn couldn't recall the Baron ever uttering that particular phrase. There was something in his voice, a note of... vulnerability, perhaps? It stirred something within her, a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Very well," she found herself saying, even as her mind raced with questions. "Lead on, my lord."

Evelyn fell into step beside the Baron, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path. The night air was cool against her skin, carrying the sweet scent of late-blooming flowers. She was acutely aware of the Baron's presence, his arm mere inches from her own. The silence between them felt charged, yet not uncomfortable.

As they walked, Evelyn stole glances at her companion. The Baron's brow was furrowed, his jaw clenched as if wrestling with some internal struggle. Several times, he drew in a breath as if to speak, only to release it in a quiet sigh. Evelyn was curious about what weighed so heavily on his mind, but she resisted the urge to pry.

In London, she might have felt compelled to fill such a silence with idle chatter. Here, surrounded by the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant call of a nightingale, words seemed unnecessary. There was a peacefulness to this moment that Evelyn was loath to disturb.

Their path took them past a small pond, its surface a mirror of starlight. The Baron paused, his hand twitching as if he might reach for her. Evelyn's heart quickened, but he merely gestured for her to precede him along a narrower section of the path.

As they continued their stroll, Evelyn found her thoughts drifting. She wondered what the Baron had wanted to discuss that required such privacy. Was it about her position as governess? The girls' education? Or perhaps...

She pushed that last thought aside, chiding herself for entertaining such fanciful notions. Whatever the Baron's reasons, she would wait for him to broach the subject in his own time.

Evelyn's curiosity grew as the Baron led her along a winding path through a copse of trees. The moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. As they emerged from the grove, a small red brick cottage came into view, nestled in a clearing.

The sight took Evelyn's breath away. The cottage looked as if it had stepped out of a fairy tale, its weathered bricks softened by climbing roses and ivy. A freshly painted door, a cheerful shade of blue, stood out against the deep red of the bricks. Flowers of every hue imaginable spilled from window boxes and lined the neat garden path.

"It's beautiful," Evelyn murmured, unable to keep the wonder from her voice.

The Baron nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's been on the estate for... I frankly don't know how long," he said with a slight crease between his brows. "It's housed a number of tenants and distant relations, though it's been quite empty of late."

As they drew closer, Evelyn noticed more details. A cosy porch swing hung from sturdy beams, inviting lazy summer afternoons. The windows glowed with warm, golden light, hinting at the comfort within.

The evening air was alive with magic. Fireflies began to appear, their soft lights blinking on and off like earthbound stars. They danced around the cottage, weaving between the flowers and casting fleeting glimmers across the ivy-covered walls.

Evelyn felt as if she'd stepped into another world. The worries and uncertainties that had plagued her earlier seemed to melt away in the face of such simple beauty. She turned to the Baron, a question forming on her lips, but the words died as she caught sight of his expression.

The moonlight cast soft shadows across his features, smoothing the harsh lines that usually creased his brow. For the first time since she'd known him, he looked... vulnerable. His eyes, usually so guarded, held a warmth that made her heart skip a beat.

"Miss Bane," he began, his voice low and uncertain. "Evelyn. I... This cottage is yours."

Evelyn blinked, sure she must have misheard. "I beg your pardon, my lord?"

The Baron cleared his throat, a faint flush colouring his cheeks. "The cottage. It's yours, if you want it."

Evelyn's mind whirled, struggling to make sense of his words. "I... I don't understand. What do you mean, it's mine?"

She watched as the Baron's hand slipped into his pocket, withdrawing something small that glinted in the moonlight. He held it out to her, and Evelyn saw that it was a key - old and slightly tarnished, but unmistakably a brass house key.

Evelyn eyed it warily; in London, it was common practice for wealthy men to offer their mistresses small homes or apartments. A key passing between them was the sign of a woman being offered carte blanche.

She couldn't begin to imagine that the Baron would offer such a thing, however. Evelyn looked up at the Baron, her eyes questioning, pulling back a little.

"I mean exactly that," he said, his voice growing steadier. "This cottage is yours, to do with as you please. You may live here for as long as you like, even...even if you leave your position."

Evelyn stared at the key in his outstretched hand, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and disbelief. "But... why? I don't understand, my lord. What does this mean?"

Evelyn's heart raced as she stared at the key in the Baron's outstretched hand. His words seemed to echo in the still night air, each one sending a fresh wave of shock through her.

The Baron's eyes softened, a hint of understanding flickering in their depths. "I believe I comprehend more than you might think, Miss Bane," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Your desire for independence... it's not so different from what I've always wanted for my daughters."

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat. Could he truly understand? She searched his face, looking for any sign of mockery or condescension, but found only sincerity.

"This cottage," he continued, gesturing to the charming structure behind them, "it's in your name now. There are some documents back at the manor that need your signature, but the property is yours."

Evelyn's mind whirled with possibilities. Her own home, a place that was truly hers. The thought was almost too much to comprehend.

The Baron cleared his throat, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his manner. "And if you wish... you could even rent it out. For additional income, you understand. It would be entirely up to you. It will always be yours, even if you—you don't live here anymore." A cloud passed over the Baron's face as he said this last bit.

Evelyn's eyes widened at this. Not only was he offering her a home, but a potential source of income as well? It seemed too good to be true. Yet as she looked into the Baron's eyes, she saw no deceit there, only a mixture of hope and nervousness.

"My lord," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I...I don't—"

The Baron reached out and gently took her wrist, his hand dwarfing hers. Without another word, the Baron placed the brass key in her hand, the weight of it surprising. Evelyn stared down at it for a moment, unable to comprehend it all.

Evelyn's fingers curled around the key, its weight anchoring her to the moment. She stared at it, unable to fully comprehend the magnitude of what the Baron had just offered her. A home. Independence. Freedom.

Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she looked up at the Baron, his face a mixture of hope and uncertainty in the moonlight. In that instant, she saw him not as her employer or as a nobleman, but as a man who had given her something no one else ever had: a choice.

All her life, men had sought to control her. The Judge had seen her as a pretty bauble to be locked away, a trophy to be displayed at his convenience. Even Richard, for all his talk of rescue and romance, had treated her like a package to be shuttled from one hiding place to another.

But this... this was different.

The Baron wasn't asking for anything in return. He wasn't trying to keep her tethered to him or to anyone else. Instead, he had given her the means to stand on her own two feet, to make her own decisions about her future.

Evelyn's heart swelled with a rush of emotion so intense it nearly took her breath away. Gratitude, yes, but also a profound sense of possibility. For the first time in her life, she felt truly seen, truly understood.

Evelyn's heart raced, her emotions overwhelming her usual sense of propriety. Without thinking, she flung her arms around the Baron's neck, pulling him close. She felt him stiffen for a moment, clearly taken aback by her impulsive action. But then, just as she'd instinctively known he would, his strong arms encircled her waist, steadying her.

The warmth of his body against hers sent a shiver down her spine. Evelyn breathed in his scent - a mixture of leather, pipe tobacco, and something uniquely him. She felt safe, anchored in a way she'd never experienced before.

As the initial rush of emotion began to subside, Evelyn became acutely aware of their position. The Baron's chest rose and fell against hers, his breath warm against her hair. His arms, while gentle, held her securely, as if he were afraid she might slip away.

Evelyn's cheeks flushed, realising the impropriety of her actions. Yet she couldn't bring herself to pull away just yet. There was something comforting, something right about being held by him. It was a feeling she'd never known she was missing until this moment.

She tilted her head back slightly, intending to apologise for her forwardness. The words died on her lips as she met the Baron's gaze. His eyes, usually so guarded, were filled with a mixture of surprise and something else - something that made throat constricted, cutting off her breath.

Time seemed to stand still as they looked at each other, the moonlight casting soft shadows across their faces. Evelyn felt her heart pounding, aware of every point of contact between them. The Baron's hands at her waist, her arms around his neck, their bodies pressed close.

She could see the desire in his eyes, the longing that mirrored her own. Yet he made no move, allowing her the freedom to choose.

In that moment, Evelyn felt a rush of gratitude and affection for this man who had given her so much. Not just a home, but the power to make her own decisions. She appreciated his restraint, his willingness to let her set the pace.

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn gathered her courage. Slowly, cautiously, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. The Baron's breath hitched, but he remained still, letting her lead.

Emboldened by his response, Evelyn pressed her lips more firmly against his. The Baron's arms tightened around her waist as he returned the kiss, his touch gentle and reverent. Evelyn's eyes fluttered closed, losing herself in the warmth of his embrace.

As the kiss deepened, the Baron's initial hesitance gave way to growing enthusiasm. His hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin with surprising tenderness. Evelyn sighed softly against his lips, her fingers threading through his hair.

The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in this perfect moment. Evelyn felt a warmth spreading through her chest, a sense of rightness that she had never experienced before.

The Baron pulled back at last, his eyes wide with surprise at his own boldness. Evelyn saw a flush rising in his cheeks as he drew in a breath, no doubt to offer some stuttering apology.

She wouldn't give him the chance.

With a soft smile curving her lips, Evelyn leaned in and captured his mouth in another swift kiss. The Baron's eyes fluttered closed as he exhaled a low, rumbling laugh against her lips. When she pulled back, his gaze had regained some of its usual composure, though a glimmer of something new and heated danced in their depths.

"We should return to the house," he murmured, his voice husky. One corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "Unless you'd prefer to stay here... in your new home?"

Evelyn felt a fresh wave of warmth flood her at the thought of the little cottage - her cottage. Her own safe haven, a place that was truly hers. Yet even as the idea beckoned, another part of her longed for the comfort and familiarity of the manor.

Squeezing the Baron's hand, she smiled up at him. "I think I'd like to go home," she said softly. "To the manor, that is."

A low chuckle rumbled in the Baron's chest. "In that case," he said, his tone taking on a teasing lilt, "you may wish to release me, my lady."

"I would be delighted to," she said, arching one brow playfully, "if you would put me down, my lord."

The Baron blinked at Evelyn for a moment. Without even realising it, he had swept her clean off her feet, which now dangled above the ground somewhere near his calves. He looked down as if disbelieving that he had done so. The Baron chuckled again, the rich sound warming Evelyn from the inside out. With an exaggerated sigh of regret, he bent and gently set her back on her feet.

As her slippers met the soft earth, Evelyn couldn't resist one last impish jab. "There now," she said lightly, patting his chest. "That's much better. A woman can hardly be expected to walk on her own two feet when she's being carried about like a sack of grain."

Evelyn's heart soared as the Baron's laughter rang out once more, rich and warm in the night air. He offered her his arm with a gallant flourish, his eyes twinkling with mirth. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, revelling in the solid warmth of him beside her.

As they strolled back towards the manor, Evelyn felt as though she were walking on air. The night seemed alive with possibility, the moonlight casting a silvery glow over everything. She sneaked glances at the Baron's profile, admiring the strong line of his jaw and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

Their conversation flowed easily, punctuated by comfortable silences. Evelyn found herself laughing more than she had in years, her cheeks aching from smiling so much. The Baron's dry wit and unexpected playfulness delighted her, revealing a side of him she'd only glimpsed before.

All too soon, they reached the manor. The Baron escorted her to the foot of the stairs, his hand warm on the small of her back. As he bid her goodnight, Evelyn's euphoria began to fade, replaced by a creeping sense of dread.

The reality of her situation crashed over her like a bucket of ice water. If the Baron ever discovered the truth about her past, about who she really was... Evelyn's stomach twisted painfully at the thought. She had lied to him, deceived him from the very beginning. How could she ever hope to build anything real, anything lasting, on such a foundation of deceit?

As she climbed the stairs to her room, Evelyn's steps grew heavier with each passing moment. The joy of the evening turned to ashes in her mouth as she realised the terrible truth: if the Baron ever uncovered her lie, she would lose him forever.

Evelyn tossed and turned in her bed, sleep eluding her despite the late hour. The memory of the Baron's kiss lingered on her lips, but it was tainted by the weight of her deception. She couldn't bear the thought of building a life with him based on lies.

As the first light of dawn crept through her window, Evelyn made a decision. She had to know the truth about her situation. Was she truly free, or was the Judge still a threat looming over her future?

With trembling hands, she penned a letter to Amelia, her only link to her past life in London. She chose her words carefully, not wanting to reveal too much, but desperate for information about the Judge's fate.

As she sealed the envelope, Evelyn felt a mix of hope and dread. If she was indeed free, perhaps she could find a way to come clean to the Baron, to build something real with him. But if the Judge still posed a threat...

Evelyn's heart clenched at the thought. She knew what she would have to do. No matter how much it pained her, she would leave the manor, leave the Baron and the girls. She couldn't bear to put them at risk, nor could she resist the growing attraction between her and the Baron.