Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

H anna guided Emma up the wide staircase, her arm firmly wrapped around her sister’s trembling shoulders. Emma’s sobs echoed off the grand walls, each one a sharp pang in Hanna’s chest.

As they entered Hanna’s room, the warmth of the fireplace contrasted with the cold shock gripping her heart. She gently led Emma to the bed and sat beside her, smoothing her sister’s hair as she continued to cry, unable to speak.

“Emma, dear, what has happened?” Hanna asked, her voice soft yet laced with urgency.

She had never seen her sister in such a state before, and the dread that had already been rising within her now threatened to overtake her entirely.

Emma shook her head, her chest still heaving with sobs. “I… I can’t… it’s… it’s too much, Hanna.”

Hanna’s heart clenched as she waited, her mind racing, already fearing what might come. Something had happened at their father’s house, and whatever it was, it had left Emma utterly distraught.

The silence between them stretched, broken only by Emma’s sobs.

Finally, Emma took a shaky breath and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “He—he’s made a match for me.”

Hanna froze, her hand stilling in Emma’s hair. Her worst fear had just taken shape, standing before her like a specter. “What do you mean?” she asked. Though in her heart, she already knew the answer.

Emma lifted her tear-streaked face, her eyes wide with helplessness. “Father. He… he sat me down and told me he’s arranged for me to marry Lord Whitcombe.”

Hanna felt as though the ground beneath her had suddenly fallen away, leaving her weightless and sick. Lord Whitcombe. The very name made her stomach turn. Her father’s conniving friend—an aging man with a fortune but no scruples. And now… now it was Emma he sought to ruin.

Hanna’s heart pounded, guilt rushing through her veins like ice. This was her doing. She had defied their father, refusing to obey his demands to spy on Edwin. She had stood firm, thinking her father’s threats were hollow, as they always had been. But she had been wrong—so terribly, terribly wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “This is… this is because of me.”

Emma shook her head, confused by her sister’s words. “What are you talking about, Hanna?”

“I didn’t do what he wanted,” Hanna confessed, her voice shaking. “Father demanded that I… I spy on Edwin. When I refused, I thought… I thought he was tricking me, that he wouldn’t follow through with his threats. But now… now he’s punishing us both. I should have known better. I should have?—”

“No, Hanna. Do not say that,” Emma interrupted, her voice hoarse. “It’s not your fault. It’s him . It’s always him. He’s doing this because he thinks he owns us.”

Hanna swallowed hard, forcing herself to regain her composure, though her insides churned with fear and anger. “I’ve been thinking about it all day,” she admitted, “what might happen if I didn’t give in to his demands. I thought I had more time, that I could figure something out… but I didn’t, and now he’s done this.”

Emma burst into sobs again, quieter but no less heart-wrenching. “What can we do? I can’t marry him, Hanna. I can’t.”

Hanna gathered Emma into her arms, holding her tightly as she tried to soothe her sister’s broken spirit. “You won’t, Emma,” she declared, trying to make her voice sound strong, though she felt anything but. “I won’t let it happen. I promise you, this time we will stop him.”

“How?” Emma whispered, pulling away slightly to look at her sister. “How can we stop him, Hanna? He’s made up his mind, and once he does that, no one can change it. The only way I can escape is by running away.”

Hanna’s heart clenched at the thought. The idea of Emma running away, alone and vulnerable in a world that could be so cruel—it was unthinkable. But so was the idea of her being trapped in a marriage to Lord Whitcombe.

Either choice was a nightmare.

“No,” Hanna said firmly. “You will not run away. We will face him together. I will talk to him—there has to be a way to make him see reason.”

Emma looked at her with red-rimmed eyes, her hope flickering faintly. “You think he’ll listen?”

Hanna hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on her. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “But I must try. I will make him listen. You are not going to marry Lord Whitcombe, Emma. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Emma nodded, though the fear in her eyes remained. “Promise me, Hanna. Promise me you won’t let him force me into this.”

“I promise,” Hanna whispered, pulling her into another tight embrace. “I won’t let it happen. No matter what it takes, we will find a way.”

But even as she made the vow, a cold dread crept into her heart. Their father was a hard man, unyielding and ruthless when it came to his ambitions. And the thought of what he might do if she defied him again—it chilled her to the bone. Yet, looking at her sister, so fragile, so desperate for hope, Hanna knew she had no choice but to fight.

This time, she could not afford to hesitate. Time was running out, and she had to protect Emma—whatever the cost.