XXII

The carriage moved through the quiet streets of Strathmore. At this hour, the village was silent, as most of the locals were enjoying lunch in their homes, allowing Marcus to go unnoticed. From behind the window, concealed by the lace mask that his butler had insisted he wear since that morning, Marcus carefully observed his surroundings. The houses were humble but well-maintained, each one lovingly restored. The place felt like a sanctuary, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city, where time seemed to move at a slower pace.

Westlin had suspected that Grace would live in a peaceful village, surrounded by small shops and farmland, and he hadn't been wrong. Every corner seemed like a haven of calm. He pulled away from the window, leaned back in his seat, and crossed his arms. The reunion with Grace was inevitable, but doubt gnawed at him—how would she react? Would she reject him after all this time?

" Even though the mask covers your face, I can still see the worry written all over it, " Holloway commented after a long silence.

Westlin turned his head toward the young man, noticing his usual carefree smile. At times, Simon's attitude was baffling.

" Life isn't as simple as you think, " Marcus murmured, unable to hide his agitation.

The butler shrugged before replying, " Life becomes difficult when we complicate what is simple. But I suppose you already know that, milord. "

Silence filled the carriage once more as each man became lost in his own thoughts. Marcus felt a cloud of doubt hovering over him. Had he made the right decision in coming here? Every time he ventured to answer that question, the knot in his throat tightened, and the uncertainty suffocated him.

The carriage finally stopped, shaking him out of his trance. The coachman stepped down to open the door, but Marcus remained paralyzed with fear. It felt as though all his strength had abandoned him. In his mind, he saw himself as a frightened child, terrified of what the darkness might bring.

A gentle touch on his knee brought him back. Simon, with his hand resting on the marquess's leg, offered him a supportive smile.

" Don't give up until the end, milord, " he said in a reassuring tone.

Westlin nodded, unable to find the words to respond. His young butler was right; he hadn't come this far just to be defeated by his own fears. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look at the door, which someone immediately opened.

" Lord Westlin, you've arrived at your new home, " Gregor announced in his usual deep, solemn voice.

As usual, Simon was the first to descend from the carriage, followed by Marcus, who refused the hand his butler offered but found some comfort in knowing that Simon was nearby. Once his feet touched the ground, he lifted his gaze toward the house that Aife had chosen for him. It wasn't large or grand, but it seemed decent enough. After all, the importance of the place wasn't its luxury but its proximity to Grace.

As he inspected the stone facade and the aligned windows, he heard a voice he instantly recognized.

" Don't be late, " someone said in a gentle but firm tone.

Marcus's heart raced to the point of pain. Instinctively, he took cover behind the carriage and shifted just enough to see her. Grace was there, barely a few meters away, saying goodbye to a boy. The years had not passed unnoticed, but she was still the same woman who had once captivated him. Her blonde hair was tied in a low bun, just as he remembered, and she wore a simple black dress that contrasted with her pale skin. Marcus's gaze lingered on her, taking in every change time had brought to her appearance.

His face hardened slightly as he recalled that, to the people of this small village, Grace was the widow of Lord Westlin. How would they react when they discovered that the marquess was still alive? A slight unease ran through him, but he didn't have time to dwell on it, as a nearby movement caught his attention.

A boy, with dark hair and a lively expression, was bidding Grace farewell with a beaming smile. Marcus's breath hitched. His eyes locked onto the child as if he were seeing a ghost.

The boy's features were unmistakable. Something deep within Marcus stirred forcefully, as if a long-buried instinct had suddenly awakened. Doubt mingled with a growing sense of certainty, but his mind refused to accept it. How could it be? Every fiber of his being told him that this child wasn't just any child. Although he couldn't be sure, Marcus knew—he felt it: that boy had to be his.

" It can't be… or can it? " The question swirled in his mind, impossible to resolve in that moment, but enough to make his heart race uncontrollably. The pieces were starting to fall into place, although Marcus wasn't ready to accept them just yet. The air around him grew thick, his breathing became labored. Could that child really be his?

Westlin remained frozen, his eyes fixed on the boy, lost in his thoughts, unable to move a muscle. It was Simon's gentle touch on his shoulder that finally snapped him back to reality.

" Milord, we should go inside, " he whispered, his tone more serious than usual.

Marcus nodded but said nothing. Every step he took toward the house felt like climbing a mountain, and the emotional weight was becoming unbearable.

As he walked toward the entrance, his mind traveled back to the past. Grace, the last time he had seen her, had been in his arms. He remembered the warmth of her body against his, the way she had clung to him, as if in that fleeting moment, they could forget everything that had happened. But in the end, betrayal and duty had weighed heavier.

And now, after ten long years, fate had brought him back here. Marcus felt the weight of all that time pressing down on him.

Once inside the house, silence fell over them like a heavy blanket. The door closed, shutting out the outside world, but Westlin could still feel that tight knot in his chest, growing stronger by the second. The air seemed thick, his thoughts spiraled out of control, and his emotions overwhelmed him. His body, weighed down by tension, could no longer hold up.

Before he could react, he felt his knees give way, and the world around him went dark. Suddenly, he collapsed onto the floor of the hall, unconscious.