40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

E velyn's heart thundered in her chest as she waited for the Baron to continue. Her fingers twisted in the folds of her dressing gown, knuckles white with tension. The air between them felt thick, charged with an energy she couldn't quite name.

"I went to find out what happened to your former... husband," the Baron said, his lip curling in disgust as he spat out the last word. The venom in his voice made Evelyn flinch, though she knew it wasn't directed at her.

She felt her hair stand on end, a chill running down her spine despite the warmth of the room. The Baron's gaze was intense, his grey eyes stormy with emotion. Evelyn was holding her breath, caught between hope and dread.

"And?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat as the Baron stepped closer. His presence filled the room, and she found herself acutely aware of every movement, every shift in his expression.

"From what I initially heard when I asked around London," he began. His voice was low and measured. "It seemed the Judge was simply taken to a convenient green and shot in a duel the moment his crimes came to light."

Evelyn stared at him, her mind reeling. A part of her had always wondered about the Judge's fate, but she'd never dared to ask. Now, faced with the possibility of closure, she felt a strange mix of relief and trepidation.

The Baron hesitated, and Evelyn's heart skipped a beat. She watched as he seemed to weigh his words carefully, drawing out the moment until she thought she might burst from the tension.

Finally, he spoke again. "It appears that wasn't the case," he said slowly. "He was still alive at that point."

Evelyn's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. She'd been so certain, so sure that the Judge was gone forever.

Evelyn's heart seemed to stop for a moment, her breath stuttering in her chest. She stared at the Baron, her mind reeling with the implications of his words.

"Does that mean..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "does that mean he's still alive now?"

The Baron's expression softened slightly, his grey eyes meeting hers with a mixture of concern and reassurance. "The Judge was alive when he was sentenced to transportation for life to Australia. A number of people had stepped forward to ensure that he was convicted," the Baron said carefully, his eyes never leaving Evelyn's face.

Evelyn's brow furrowed, her mind latching onto the Baron's choice of words. There was something in the way he'd said it, a certain weight to his tone that hinted at more.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice gaining strength. "Why did you say it like that?"

The Baron's eyes flickered a little, and Evelyn had the strangest sensation of being toyed with, like a cat with a mouse. Distantly, she wondered if this was a good or a bad thing, that the Baron took the time to torment her.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat as she processed the Baron's words. Her heart raced, a mixture of fear and hope coursing through her veins. She searched his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind his careful phrasing.

"That's not the end of the story," the Baron said, his voice low and measured.

Evelyn's fingers tightened on the folds of her dressing gown, her knuckles white with tension. She waited, barely breathing, as the Baron continued.

"The crew and other convicts on the ship were not particularly kind to him," he explained, a hint of grim satisfaction in his tone. "It seems the Judge managed to make a lot of people very, very angry."

Evelyn's mind whirled, imagining the scene. She could almost picture the Judge, stripped of his power and influence, surrounded by those he had wronged or their loved ones. A shiver ran down her spine, not entirely from fear.

The Baron's grey eyes met hers, intense and unreadable. "The high seas can be a dangerous place, Evelyn," he said pointedly. "Especially on a ship full of criminals."

The implication hung heavy in the air between them. Evelyn's heart pounded so loudly she was certain the Baron must hear it. She licked her dry lips, struggling to find her voice.

"So you mean," she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, "that the Judge died on the crossing?"

The Baron didn't answer immediately, merely bobbed his head in a "more or less" gesture. With slow, deliberate movements, he removed his rain-slicked leather overcoat and tossed it on a convenient chair along with his hat.

"It would be easy to assume that he had died on the crossing, given his rough treatment. But no," the Baron said, his eyes twinkling. "He was still very much alive when he landed in Australia. Bruised and battered, I grant you, but still very much alive."

Evelyn sagged, her shoulders slumping as the weight of the Baron's words settled over her. She felt utterly drained, her emotions a tangled mess of relief, disappointment, and lingering fear. The Judge was still alive, still out there in the world. Even if he was on the other side of the globe, the thought made her skin crawl.

She looked up at the Baron, expecting to see sympathy or perhaps concern on his face. Instead, she was startled to see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were suppressing a grin. The sight ignited a spark of irritation within her, cutting through the fog of her despair.

"Why do you look so damn amused?" Evelyn snapped, her voice sharper than she'd intended. "Do you find my predicament entertaining, my lord?"

The Baron's eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by her sudden outburst. For a moment, Evelyn feared she'd overstepped, but then she saw something else in his expression—a flicker of admiration, perhaps?

"I apologise, Miss Bane," he said, his voice softer now. "I assure you, I find no amusement in your suffering. It's just that—"

He paused. Evelyn was leaning forward slightly, hanging on his next words. The Baron's grey eyes met hers, and she saw a warmth there that made her breath catch.

"It's just that I haven't finished telling you the story," he continued, a hint of that earlier amusement creeping back into his tone.

Evelyn's brow furrowed, confusion replacing her irritation. "What do you mean?" she asked softly.

Evelyn watched the Baron intently, her heart racing as she waited for him to continue. His eyes held a glimmer of something she couldn't quite place—amusement, perhaps, or anticipation.

"The Judge survived the voyage and his initial time in Australia," the Baron said, his voice low and measured. "But fate, it seems, had other plans for him."

He paused, as Evelyn was leaning forward, hanging on his every word.

"He died," the Baron continued, "from a snake bite while digging a latrine."

Evelyn blinked, certain she had misheard. "I'm sorry, what?"

"A snake," the Baron repeated, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Apparently, it was a rather nasty species. He didn't last long."

Evelyn stared at him, her mind struggling to process this information. It seemed so... mundane, so anticlimactic after everything she'd been through. A bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to escape her throat.

"So," she said, her voice sounding oddly strangled, "does that mean... am I a widow?"

The Baron's expression softened, his grey eyes meeting hers with unexpected warmth. "Yes, Evelyn," he said gently. "I've never been so happy to tell someone that their husband is dead."

Evelyn felt a rush of emotions wash over her—relief, disbelief, and a strange, giddy sort of joy. She pressed a hand to her mouth, unsure whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

Impulsively, Evelyn threw herself at the Baron, burying her face in his chest. His solid warmth enveloped her, and she felt the rumble of his laughter even before she heard it. His arms wrapped around her, strong and sure, and Evelyn felt a surge of relief and joy so intense it threatened to overwhelm her.

She began to laugh too, the sound muffled against his shirt. It was a giddy, almost hysterical laughter, born of the sudden release of years of tension and fear. Evelyn felt light-headed, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

As her laughter subsided, Evelyn became acutely aware of their closeness. The Baron's scent surrounded her—a mixture of leather, rain, and something uniquely him. His hands were warm on her back, and she could feel the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

Pulling back slightly, Evelyn looked up at the Baron. His grey eyes were twinkling with amusement, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The sight of his barely contained mirth sparked a playful indignation in her.

"You!" she exclaimed, swatting his chest lightly. "You tormented me on purpose, didn't you?"

The Baron's smile widened, and he made no attempt to deny it. Evelyn swatted him again, but there was no real force behind it. She was too elated, too relieved to truly be angry.

"It seemed you always enjoyed it so much when you did it to me," he said with a smile.

"I ought to be furious with you," she said, trying and failing to keep a stern expression on her face.

"But you're not," the Baron replied, his voice low and warm.

Evelyn felt her cheeks flush, suddenly very aware of their proximity, and the fact that she was only in a nightrail and dressing gown, her feet bare. But she couldn't bring herself to step away just yet. For the first time in years, she felt truly free, truly safe. And it was all because of the man holding her.

Evelyn reluctantly pulled back to arms' length, her hands resting lightly on the Baron's chest. Her heart fluttered as she looked up at him, a mixture of hope and trepidation in her eyes.

"Does this mean," she asked hesitantly, "that you've forgiven me for lying?"

The Baron's grey eyes softened as he gazed down at her, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He shook his head gently.

"No, Evelyn," he said, his voice low and warm. "I don't forgive you, because there's nothing to forgive."

Evelyn's brow furrowed in confusion, her lips parting to speak, but the Baron continued before she could voice her thoughts.

"You might not have been truthful about your name," he explained. His hands still resting comfortably on her waist. "You never lied, though, about who you really are, deep down."

His words washed over her, and Evelyn felt a warmth blooming in her chest. She searched his face, scarcely daring to believe what she was hearing.

"You revealed your true self in the way you cared for my girls," the Baron continued, his voice filled with a tenderness that made Evelyn's breath catch. "And in the way you heroically saved me that day in the field."

Evelyn felt her cheeks flush at the memory, both from the intensity of that moment and from the Baron's praise. She had never thought of herself as heroic, but the admiration in his eyes made her feel as though she could conquer the world.

Evelyn's heart raced as she gazed up at the Baron, his words washing over her like a warm tide. She scarcely dared to believe what she was hearing, afraid that at any moment she might wake up and find it all a dream.

The Baron's grey eyes held hers, filled with an intensity that made her breath catch. "Evelyn," he said, his voice low and earnest, "I hope enough time has passed for it to be proper for me to ask for your hand, because I can't bear to live without you a moment longer."

A rush of joy surged through Evelyn, so powerful it threatened to overwhelm her. She felt light-headed, giddy with happiness. Without hesitation, she replied, "I don't care about society's rules. I just want to be with you."

The moment the words left her lips, Evelyn realised she was echoing the Baron's own sentiments from the dance. The recognition flashed in his eyes as well, and suddenly they were both grinning like naughty children who had got away with some delightful mischief.

The Baron's smile widened, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of joy and mischief. "Well then," he said, his voice filled with barely contained excitement, "I shall arrange for the banns to be read at once."

Evelyn felt a thrill run through her at his words. It was really happening. After all the trials and tribulations, all the fear and uncertainty, she was finally going to have her happy ending. And not just any ending, but one with a man who truly understood and valued her for who she was.

Evelyn gasped as the Baron pulled a ring from his pocket. It was a delicate silver band with a sapphire setting that caught the light, sparkling brilliantly. With gentle hands, he slipped it onto her finger, and Evelyn felt her heart swell with emotion.

A laugh bubbled up from her chest, light and joyous, only for her to realise that tears were streaming down her cheeks as well. She had never experienced such a whirlwind of feelings before—elation, relief, love, and a touch of disbelief that this was truly happening to her.

As she admired the ring on her finger, a sudden thought occurred to her. "My lord—" she began.

The Baron held up a hand. "James, please."

Evelyn smiled. "Is it proper for me to continue living here while the banns are read? Perhaps I should find lodgings elsewhere for the time being."

The moment the words left her lips, she saw the Baron's expression darken. His brow furrowed, and his grey eyes flashed with a determination that sent a thrill through her.

"I won't hear of it," he said firmly, his hands tightening slightly on her waist. "I've only just found you, Evelyn. I won't be without you again, not even for a moment."

His words filled her with warmth, and she felt her heart soar. She was elated, truly happy in a way she had never been before. And yet, there was something still nagging at the back of her mind.

As she stood there in the Baron's embrace, Evelyn couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She tried to tell herself it was just nerves, a natural reaction to all that had happened in such a short time. But the sensation persisted, a prickling at the back of her neck that made her want to look over her shoulder.