Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

H anna sat quietly in her chamber, the only sound the soft clicking of her needle as she worked the delicate stitches into the fabric on her lap. The flickering light of her oil lamp cast a gentle glow over the room, but as the minutes passed, her eyes grew tired. She squinted at the tiny thread, trying to focus, but the lines had begun to blur.

With a sigh, she set her needlework aside, rubbing her eyes. It was late, and perhaps it was time to put the work down for the night. She moved to extinguish the lamp when the sudden sound of barking caught her attention.

Ruby.

The dog’s bark echoed faintly through the walls, drawing Hanna toward the window. She crossed the room quickly and peered outside. The moonlight illuminated the grounds, and there, by the stables, she spotted Edwin standing alone. His figure was half-shadowed by the trees, but it was unmistakably him. Ruby circled his feet, yapping in that playful way he always did when seeking attention.

Hanna’s hand lingered on the window ledge as she watched him. The night was calm, and yet the sight of Edwin standing out there stirred something inside her. Her thoughts drifted back to their earlier conversation, the unexpected ease she had felt in his presence.

For the first time in their marriage, she had felt truly comfortable with him—no pretense, no need to weigh her words. There had been an openness between them, however brief, that she found herself longing to return to.

She blinked, startled by the realization. She wanted to speak with him again.

As she watched him from her window, his posture relaxed and contemplative, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more he hadn’t said. The way he had spoken about his father, the sadness that lingered behind his words, made her think there was so much more to his story. And perhaps, if she tried, he might open up to her in a way he hadn’t before.

She bit her lip, considering. Edwin had been kind to her, patient even when she hadn’t expected it. She thought of the warmth in his voice earlier that evening, the way he had confided in her about his family. Something about that moment felt different—closer, more real. And now, with the quiet of the night stretching between them, she felt the urge to see him again, to hear more, to learn more.

Without thinking too much, Hanna moved away from the window and slipped out of her room. Her nightgown swished against the floor as she rushed down the stairs, the coldness of the stone beneath her feet sending a small shiver down her spine. She paused at the bottom of the staircase, the glow of the low-burning hearth casting a faint light on the hallway. Her heart raced slightly, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the anticipation of seeking out her husband.

As she reached the door that led to the gardens, she hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the latch. What was she going to say? Would he find it strange that she had come looking for him so late?

But the thought of their conversation, the openness between them, emboldened her. Edwin had confided in her tonight, and that meant something. He was beginning to trust her.

Perhaps he needed someone to talk to, someone to listen. And she realized, as the quiet truth settled in her chest, that she wanted to be that person for him.

Hanna took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping into the crisp night air. The cold wrapped around her immediately, but she didn’t mind. The light snowflakes drifted down lazily from the sky, covering the ground in a soft, silvery blanket. She made her way toward the stables, her eyes fixed on Edwin’s form as he leaned against a low stone wall, gazing out at the snow-covered fields.

Ruby barked again, drawing his attention, and Edwin turned, his eyes narrowing slightly in the darkness as he saw her approaching.

“Hanna?” His voice was low, surprised. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

Hanna smiled faintly, wrapping her arms around herself as she stopped a few paces away. “I saw you from my window,” she admitted, her breath misting in the cold air. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought I might… join you.”

Edwin raised an eyebrow, his expression softening as he watched her. “You should be inside, where it’s warm.”

“I don’t mind,” she reassured him, stepping closer. “I thought you might want some company.”

For a moment, Edwin said nothing, studying her face as if searching for something. Then, with a small nod, he motioned for her to come closer.

“If you insist,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Though I can’t imagine why anyone would want to be out in the cold with me.”

Hanna smiled and moved to stand beside him, feeling the crunch of snow beneath her shoes. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the snow fall, the peacefulness of the night settling over them.

“I could not sleep, yet my eyes are too tired to crochet,” she said. “But if you do not want company…”

“That is not what I meant,” Edwin interjected. “If you’d like to, we can sit in the drawing room. Ruby has had enough of the outdoors anyway.”

With a nod, Hanna agreed before they stepped back inside.

The fireplace in the drawing room flickered, and Edwin stirred the logs with the poker to stoke the flames higher. When the fire leaped merrily around the embers again, Ruby sat in front of it, his belly facing the warmth, while Edwin and Hanna sat on the chaise.

Hanna glanced up at the family portrait that hung above the fireplace. “You must have been very young,” she noted.

Edwin looked up at the painting. “I was. Seven, to be exact. My brother was eight. It is the only portrait I have of my family,” he said. “My father was not fond of portraits.”

“Earlier, when we were talking about your father… I felt like there was more you wanted to say. About him. And your brother.”

Edwin stiffened slightly at her words, his expression unreadable as he looked out over the snow-covered grounds. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned back in the chaise, his gaze drawn to the flames dancing in the hearth. His dark eyes reflected the flickering light, and for a moment, he seemed lost in memories long buried.

Hanna waited patiently, sensing that something weighed heavily on his mind. And then, slowly, he spoke.

“My father was a hard man,” he began, his voice measured but edged with old pain. “Strict. Unyielding. As I said earlier. He believed in order and control—always. He never once bent, never once allowed for weakness. Emotion was a flaw to him, something to be disciplined out of you.” He paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “I spent my entire childhood trying to please him, but it was never enough.”

Hanna felt a pang of empathy in her chest. She understood, perhaps more than she had realized, what it meant to live under the shadow of a domineering father.

“And your mother?” she asked, sensing there was more to the story.

“My mother,” Edwin said softly, the harshness in his voice melting away for a moment. “She was… kind. Far too kind for a man like my father. She loved us, but she was fragile. Prone to panic, especially in the face of his temper.” He hesitated, balling his hands into fists for a brief moment before he forced them to relax. “I was the one who learned how to calm her. I’d sit by her side for hours when she became lost in her fear, soothing her as best I could. I became responsible for her, even as a child.”

“That is why you knew how to help me at the ball,” she said, and he nodded.

“Years of experience, yes,” he explained. “She had them often, those episodes.”

Hanna’s heart ached at the thought. She could see it now—the young boy who had grown into the man before her, forced to bear burdens that no child should have to carry. The quiet strength in him that had been forged from such early responsibility.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That must have been difficult.”

Edwin glanced at her, and for the first time, she saw something in his eyes that she had rarely seen—vulnerability. It made her chest tighten, and she felt an overwhelming urge to reach out to him. But she stayed still, allowing him to continue at his own pace.

“She was the only light in our home,” Edwin continued. “My father wanted us to be prepared, to be in control always. Especially my brother…” he trailed off, his voice catching slightly.

Hanna’s gaze softened, sensing the shift in his tone. “Benjamin,” she said quietly. “You loved him very much, didn’t you?”

A shadow crossed Edwin’s face at the mention of his brother’s name. His expression darkened, and he looked away, his voice barely above a whisper when he spoke again.

“Benjamin was everything I wasn’t.” The words were laden with regret. “Brave, defiant. He wouldn’t bend to our father’s will. He believed in standing up for what was right, no matter the cost. He was reckless, but he had a heart that couldn’t be tamed. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

Hanna could see it now—the pain etched in every word. The love he had for his brother, the guilt that had lingered in the silence of their home since his passing.

“Do you mean the scandal?” she asked gently, though she feared she already knew the answer.

Edwin swallowed hard, his throat working as he fought to keep his voice steady. “Yes, that. And the way he died. I cannot believe that he died in an accident. I cannot imagine it. I always thought something was wrong with the picture. He… if it was an accident, then he was driven to it,” he said, his voice thick with grief. “Sometimes I wonder if he was murdered.” He looked up when he heard her gasp. “Not by me, but by someone else. Maybe someone who blamed him for their financial losses. Or someone… Perhaps nobody.”

Hanna’s breath caught in her throat. She recalled the rumors and the unpleasant tales she had been told about the late Duke’s death and how she’d suspected her husband.

The thought of it was incomprehensible now, as she could see the truth of it in Edwin’s tormented expression. This man had loved his brother. He hadn’t killed him. And somehow, she’d already known that.

“I blame myself for it. His heart was good, and someone took advantage of it. I should have been …”

Hanna leaned forward slightly, her eyes wide with concern. “Edwin, you couldn’t have known?—”

“I should have,” he interrupted, his voice sharp with self-recrimination. “He was reckless toward the end, yes, but he didn’t deserve to die. And because of me, because I couldn’t stop it… I lost him.”

The pain in his words cut deep, and Hanna felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see him carry that burden, the weight of guilt that wasn’t his to bear.

She reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she placed it gently over his. “You can’t blame yourself,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Edwin’s eyes met hers, and for a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the silence between them filled with the weight of shared understanding. Hanna could feel her heart aching for him, for the boy he had been, for the brother he had lost, and for the man who had never allowed himself to truly grieve.

“I miss him,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “Every day, I miss him. And I hate that I never told him how much he meant to me.”

Hanna’s hand tightened around his, offering what comfort she could. “I’m sure he knew,” she said softly. “And I’m sure he loved you just as much.”

They sat there in the quiet warmth of the fire, their hands still entwined, and Hanna realized how deeply she had come to care for him. At that moment, he was no longer just the man she had been forced to marry. He was someone she wanted to know, someone she wanted to understand and comfort. Her heart ached for him, and in the same breath, she felt something else—something she hadn’t expected.

But she also couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. She had not told him about the papers her father had hidden, the ones that could change everything. She had meant to, but after everything Edwin had revealed to her tonight, it seemed almost too much to bring it up now. Still, the weight of that secret pressed on her conscience.

Before she could say anything more, Edwin’s voice broke the silence again. “Thank you,” he whispered, his eyes searching hers. “For being here. For listening.”

Hanna shook her head gently. “You don’t need to thank me,” she replied. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to share this with me.”

For the first time, a small, tentative smile touched Edwin’s lips, though his eyes were still filled with sadness and grief over everything he had lost.

“I’ve never told anyone about Benjamin,” he admitted softly. “Not like this.”

Hanna’s heart swelled at his words, at the knowledge that he had let her in, even for just a moment. “I’m honored,” she whispered.

The fire crackled between them, casting a soft glow over their faces, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the distance that had always separated them seemed to disappear. They weren’t just husband and wife bound by duty—they were two souls sharing the raw and painful truths of life. And in that sharing, they had found something new. Something fragile, but something real.

Hanna could feel the tension building between them, the air growing heavier with something unspoken. Her heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the depth of his pain, his strength, and the vulnerability he had shown her tonight. And at that moment, she realized how much she wanted to be the one to help him heal.

Somehow, amidst everything, she had begun to care for Edwin in ways that frightened her—and yet, she couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Edwin…” Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke his name.

He shifted his gaze toward her, the firelight reflecting in his eyes, and for a moment, it felt as though the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them in this fragile, intimate space.

Hanna didn’t know who moved first. Perhaps it was him, perhaps it was her. But suddenly, the distance between them vanished, and before she could stop herself, she leaned in, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Edwin’s breath hitched as their faces drew nearer, and the moment seemed to stretch on, neither able to resist that magnetic pull.

And then, their lips met gently.

It was soft at first, a hesitant brush of skin against skin, as though both were testing something new, something delicate. But as the warmth of the kiss spread between them, the tenderness gave way to something deeper. Hanna’s hand found its way to Edwin’s cheek, her fingers trembling slightly as they traced the line of his jaw, and she felt him respond, his hand slipping to her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, yet filled with all the emotions they had kept bottled up—their pain, their longing, their tentative hope. It was a kiss of discovery, of shared vulnerability. For the first time, Hanna let herself feel everything she had tried to ignore—the care, the attraction, the desire for something real between them. And from the way Edwin kissed her back, with a reverence she hadn’t expected, she knew he felt it too.

When they finally parted, both of them were breathless, their foreheads pressed together as they lingered in the afterglow of the moment. Hanna’s heart raced, her emotions swirling, but for once, the confusion didn’t frighten her. In fact, she found a strange comfort in it.

Edwin’s thumb gently traced the line of her jaw, and when she looked up, his eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. “Hanna,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Yes?” she whispered, her own voice quivering.

He exhaled slowly as if trying to find the right words. “I didn’t expect this, but I’m glad it happened.”

“So am I,” she admitted, her lips curling into the faintest of smiles.

For a while, they sat there in silence, their hands still intertwined, the warmth of the fire wrapping around them like a protective cocoon. And though the world outside still held its dangers, its secrets, at that moment, they were safe—together.

For the first time since their wedding, Hanna realized she wasn’t just bound to Edwin by circumstance. She was bound to him by something deeper now, something that had only just blossomed but felt like the start of something extraordinary.

And as the night stretched on, she stayed by his side, knowing that for the first time, they were truly not alone.