Chapter 27

"Ishall be fine," Virtue insisted in a gentle tone that belied her frailty. "You really needn't worry."

"I implored him to come and meet me here," Sebastian explained. "But he was adamant that we meet halfway."

"Which is only fair."

"I might cancel," Sebastian muttered, nodding his head as if he was trying to convince himself to do just that. "Yes... now is hardly the time to be—"

"You most certainly will not!" Virtue widened her eyes in warning at her husband, who leaned back as if struck. This had her softening her expression, reaching out and taking his hand. "I understand that you are worried about me. And about leaving me alone."

"Can you blame me?"

"Pray, you have nothing to fear," she continued, keeping her tone soft as she caressed his hand. "I intend to remain well within the confines of our lands. And what could possibly happen to me here?"

He scoffed lightly. "Are you serious? The last time I left you—"

"Yet, even with your presence, the end might well have been the same," she interjected with a serene smile. "The only difference is you would also likely be sick, and then we would have nobody but Lucy and Albion to tend to our needs."

"I would still look after you..." he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes at him, reaching out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw tenderly as she lovingly met his gaze. "Your friend needs you. And not just Ralph, but Lord Wellington also. Nearly a fortnight has passed since his passing, and still, you are no nearer to understanding the events that led to such a tragedy."

"I'm hoping that Ralph has uncovered something by now."

"Which you will not learn unless you meet with him," she chided lightly. "Which is all he is asking of you. So, as per my original point, you should go. I shall be perfectly fine here on my own."

He did not want to leave her. She could see that as clear as day. Just the thought of leaving her alone, even if it was only for a few hours, struck terror into the man such that one would think he was being commanded back to war, forced to leave his wife behind for God only knew how many years. It was nothing so exaggerated, however, merely a day trip that would see him home before the evening.

"Are you certain?" he asked, and she could sense his resolve breaking.

"Faith, if you don't leave, I might just have to go myself," she quipped with a light-hearted laugh. "And you can stay behind, keeping dear Lucy company."

"I'm sure she would love that," he added wryly.

Virtue replied with a playful shrug. "She has grown quite fond of you, you know."

Sebastian sighed. "Promise me this then, that you will refrain from doing anything reckless in my absence."

Virtue rolled her eyes once more. "You know, I had contemplated a spirited ride through the woodlands, perhaps even a daring dash to London and back. But I suppose such adventures can wait until your return."

He chuckled before clasping her hand gently, pressing a tender kiss to its back. Gazed into her eyes, the depth of his affection unmistakable. "I..." he began, and she held her breath, wondering if now, finally, he would say the words. "Will miss you," he uttered instead.

A pang of disappointment tugged at her heart—she had been so sure he would finally say them. "I know you will," she responded, her smile tinged with both affection and a hint of sadness. "And I, you."

They still hadn't spoken those three magic words to one another. It felt strange to Virtue that they had not, because it was so clear to both how they felt. And yet every time that she was certain the words to be passing his lips... he would hesitate and speak something else. Was he scared to say them, she wondered. Or perhaps he did not feel the same way that she now knew herself to feel about him?

And yes, she might have told him that she loved him first, but by this point, she wished to hear him say it, for he seemed to be building up the courage. Stubborn of her? Certainly. But necessary.

Sebastian left her shortly after. Not before assuring her for the umpteenth time that he would return as quickly as possible. And not before reminding her to take it easy while he was gone, for he did not want to return to find her back in bed having fainted for pushing herself too hard.

"It has been nearly a week since my last fainting spell," she had reminded him lightly, hoping to ease his concern. "I believe we are beyond that now."

He'd kissed her fully on the lips. Then held her there... refusing to let go... seemingly trying to get as much of her as he could, so that he could remember it while he was away.

She couldn't begrudge him for the way he was behaving. Ever since the unfortunate incident of her poisoning, his attentions had been ceaseless, treating her as though she were fragile, in need of constant vigilance. It was endearing, if a little annoying at times, and she understood once her health was fully restored, things would return to normal. Besides, the positives from it far outweighed the negatives, so she was willing to accept the good with the bad.

At last, the moment of departure had arrived. Virtue had stood at the front steps, her hand raised in a lingering farewell as Sebastian urged his horse forward, the hooves clattering against the cobblestones. A final look back when he reached the gate... a moment's pause... and then he was gone.

"I thought he would never leave," Lucy clicked her tongue from behind where Virtue was standing.

"Oh, behave," Virtue lightly scolded, her eyes still fixed on the empty path where Sebastian had disappeared.

"In all seriousness, however, I was wrong about him," Lucy confessed, a note of surprise coloring her voice. "It seems he really is as kind and gentle as you've been claiming. Who knew."

"I told you."

"And did you notice?"

"Notice what?" Virtue frowned.

Lucy made a circular motion at her face with her hands. "He was not wearing his mask."

"Oh..." Virtue turned back and looked across the estate as if to double-check. "No... I did not."

"Perhaps he has it with him?"

"No..." She smiled at the thought, knowing full well that he didn't. "I don't think so."

That alone was proof of how much her husband had transformed. She was so used to seeing him without the mask on by now that she might have found it strange to see him wearing it. And the fact that he left without considering wearing it, that it scarcely even seemed to cross his mind, was further proof of how far the two had come together.

Her smile lingered, as she instructed Lucy to prepare some tea so they might take to the gardens.

Before she got a chance to do that, however, she decided to pop into the library to fetch a book. A relatively short walk to make, but one that she relished for how easy it was to do. Her strength was returning, and for that, she was grateful. Selecting a romantic novel—a fitting companion for a tranquil afternoon—she retraced her steps through the foyer.

And that was when she heard it, a knock at the front door.

Hesitation gripped her for a moment. Though the safety of her own home surrounded her, the recent memory of her poisoning cast a shadow of unease. Sebastian was not there as usual to reassure her, and no footman was immediately available to answer the door with the final renovations of the gardens still being underway. For a brief moment, she considered going outside to fetch someone but then chastised herself for being silly. She could not live her life in fear, and this right here should have been the most simple of tasks. After all, for one to have made it this far onto the castle grounds, they must have been accounted for already.

Taking a deep breath, Virtue approached the door, her hand steady as she reached for the handle, ready to face whatever—or whoever—awaited her on the other side. But then she opened the door, and suddenly, she found herself wishing that she had listened to good sense and called for someone.

"Lord Prescott!" she gasped at the sight of her ex-betrothed.

"Your… Your Grace?" A flash of surprise crossed his features to find her answering the door. His smile was sheepish, tinged with discomfort, suggesting that his visit was borne of necessity rather than desire. "Is there nobody else to man the doors? What a delightful coincidence," he laughed awkwardly, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "How are you this fine afternoon?"

Virtue kept the door only half-open. "I am well..."

"That is good," he said, his smile attempting to widen convincingly, yet lacking any real assurance. "I was in the area again and thought I might stop by and see how you are doing. I had the good sense to send a calling card prior to my visit this time. I hope it arrived well?"

Virtue had no possible way to know if what Lord Prescott was saying was true, especially with Sebastian absent. So, she chose to play it safe. "Thank you for your concern," she replied carefully.

They stood in a state of tense silence. Virtue did not want to prolong the conversation any more than she had to, so she chose not to speak. And Lord Prescott was clearly nervous, fiddling with his hands, eyes flicking about himself and over her shoulder.

"Why are you here?" Virtue finally broke the silence when it became clear he would not broach the subject first. "Truly?"

"The truth? I wanted to make sure you were all right," he doubled down. "Word of what happened reached my ears recently, but nobody seemed to know how you were progressing."

"Oh? It did, did it?"

"Of course."

"Well, again, I appreciate your concern, but as you can plainly see, I am fine." She tried not to speak curtly or rudely to the man, but his being here at the precise moment her husband left was telling. "And if that is all—" She moved to close the door but he shot out a hand to stop her.

"Well, actually, there is something else." He stepped forward, his hand reaching out to prevent the door from shutting. "May I... May I come in?"

A surge of unease washed over Virtue. Once, the sight of Lord Prescott had her heart fluttering for reasons that now felt laughable. So handsome, she used to think. So big and strong and manly. Now, she wondered what she ever saw in him.

But it was more than that now. The way he looked at her. The way he hovered and leered. It was unsettling and eerie, so Virtue stood ready to slam the door in his face if need be.

"The Duke is in his study," she began, albeit unconvincingly. "And I do not think he would appreciate me inviting my ex-betrothed into his home."

"Is he?" Lord Prescott frowned. "So that was not him I just passed riding south?"

She felt her throat tighten, her reply barely a whisper. "N—no. You must be mistaken."

"Virtue..." He sighed. "You have nothing to fear from me. I just want to talk."

"So talk," she responded, voice trembling. "And I will listen."

He sighed in resignation but nodded his understanding—seemingly realizing that she was not about to let him inside. And, thankfully, if his posture was anything to go by, that he did not intend to force his way through either.

"I came here to apologize," he finally said, breaking the uneasy silence.

Virtue blinked in surprise. "Pardon?"

"Apologize," he repeated, a nervous chuckle escaping him as he shifted awkwardly on his feet. "I feel that it is owed. After the unfortunate incident that… befell you earlier, I have no doubt that you are curious about the particulars and how it happened precisely, and I need it known that I had nothing to do with this. I could never..." He trailed off.

"Then what are you apologizing for, exactly?"

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hesitating. "A few weeks ago, you may have received some letters..."

Virtue's expression changed instantly, shifting from puzzlement to shock. "That was your doing?!"

"Regrettably so..."

"But... but... but why? How? What in heavens were you thinking—"

"I was not in my right mind," he confessed hastily. "The truth of the matter, and I implore you not to cast harsh judgment upon me, is that upon hearing of your union with His Grace, I was overcome..." A bitter chuckle escaped him, and his visage crumpled with self-reproach. "Overcome with jealousy, consumed by a most irrational rage. I could not fathom your transition from our engagement to his side, nor could I accept that you might find happiness with him."

Virtue's mind raced as she tried to put together the pieces of a puzzle that made little to no sense to her. "I must remind you, Lord Prescott, it was you who severed our betrothal."

"I am aware," he sighed heavily. "And I do not claim sanity, but that is the way of things. Once news of your marriage spread, rumors abounded of your supposed misery, and I deluded myself into believing I could yet be your savior… He tried to laugh at that but it fell very flat. "My plan was to approach you at the Rochester Ball and reveal myself, but then..." His expression softened, a smile touching his lips, albeit tinged with sadness. "I saw how happy you were. I saw how happy His Grace was making you and it dawned upon me the utter folly of my designs."

What could Virtue say? What could she even think? This was unbelievable, the last thing she might have ever expected of Lord Prescott. A man who broke her heart, tried to steal it back, and was now apologizing for doing so. To say that she was confused would be an understatement, so, rather than saying anything, she simply stood there, properly dumbfounded.

"But it has been gnawing at my conscience," Lord Prescott continued, seeming to find some semblance of resolve. "And upon hearing of your recent sickness, I felt honor-bound to present myself, express my regrets, and give you my well-wishes." He nodded rightly. "I do not seek your forgiveness, nor do I expect you to conceal this truth from His Grace. Should he choose to pursue retribution, I shall accept it as his prerogative, but just know this… I am truly sorry."

"I..." Virtue faltered, her thoughts a whirlwind as she strived to find the right words. "Your apology is... accepted."

He smiled at that. "You are surprised."

"What did you expect?"

"For you to strike me, I think," he replied with a rueful chuckle. "But it seems astonishment will suffice. Listen—" He edged closer, as if intending to push the door wider, but then, perhaps recognizing the impropriety, retreated slightly. "After today, I assure you, you shall have no further cause to tolerate my presence. But you should know that I am happy for you, Virtue, and..." He reached for her hand, catching her off-guard. "When you speak next with His Grace, do impress upon him how fortunate he is."

"I... I shall do that."

His smile was grateful. As was the kiss he gave the back of her hand. And then, as if he sensed the moment had passed, he simply released her hand, offered her a final smile of gratitude, and departed.

As to Virtue? She shut the door behind him but remained standing there for some time, her gaze fixed on the solid wood, her mind running as if to escape. She could not fathom what had just happened. She could not comprehend its meaning. All she was able to do in the moment was accept Lord Prescott's apology as sincere, for it had sounded as such, sit with it for the day, and then decide how she felt later on.

She also had to decide whether or not to tell Sebastian about the letters and risk him dueling over her honor... but that was a decision for another time.

A shake of the head to clear her mind, and Virtue finally made her way to the gardens. Her mind was addled as she stepped outside, still back on that conversation with Lord Prescott. It was for that reason that she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking, and it was for that reason that she soon found herself following a path around the side of the castle, toward the back. And it was, ultimately, for that reason that she did not pay any serious heed to the figure lurking behind a nearby tree until she was less than ten feet away.

Virtue came to a sudden halt at the sight of him. At first, she figured it must have been one of the laborers that had been hired as part of the renovations, though his presence here far away from the rest of the work had her nearly calling to him to step out from the tree, for it was both negligent and alarming. Then she took a closer look, her eyes going wide in fright when she understood who it was…

"How…" She took a step back when she should have turned and fled.

"Surprised?" he responded with a sinister grin as he lunged toward her.