XL

Everything that had happened had not gone unnoticed in the village. Although Grace tried to keep her life separate from the rumors, the whispers and stares were impossible to ignore. The neighbors, always alert to any hint of scandal, had begun spinning stories about her past with Westlin. Word had spread that Lord Haspirin was none other than Grace's real husband, the man everyone thought was dead. The versions varied: some said she had fled from him, others that he had abandoned her, but they all agreed that their reunion had reopened old wounds they were both trying to conceal.

Grace walked through the streets with her head held high, ignoring the inquisitive glances burning into her back. She felt that every comment, every whispered word as she passed, sank under her skin. Even though no one dared say anything directly, she knew the village was waiting for a resolution, a new scandal to add to their tales.

As the evening fell and she returned home after her day at the school, she was surprised by a visit from the parson, who had been more present than ever in recent days. She found him waiting at her door, wearing that concerned, watchful expression she had come to know all too well.

" Lady Grace, " he said gently, bowing his head slightly, " forgive the intrusion, but I want to offer my help during these difficult times for you. "

" Help me? " she replied, narrowing her eyes.

" Yes. I must tell you that the gossip is beginning to take a dangerous turn. The villagers are talking too much about Lord Westlin and you. "

Grace looked at him, keeping her composure. She was aware of what was happening, but hearing the parson mention it so directly made her feel a pang of discomfort.

" I don't care what people say, " she responded, her voice controlled but firm. " The rumors won't change the truth. "

Elior frowned, his face a mixture of concern and sympathy. He knew Grace wouldn't give in easily, but he couldn't stand by and watch her suffer in silence.

" If I may, I believe that man has already caused you enough pain in the past. The villagers are starting to tell stories, and none of them reflect the suffering you've endured, " he continued, a blend of worry and resentment in his tone. " Lord Westlin doesn't deserve your forgiveness, nor Robert's. You've built a life without him, and you shouldn't let him destroy it again. "

Hartwell's words echoed in Grace's mind. She knew he was right about some things. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more behind his insistence. She fixed her gaze on him, searching for answers he couldn't give.

" What I did, I did for my son, " she declared, her determination unwavering. " And what I decide to do now will also be for him. I won't let Westlin hurt us again, Mr. Hartwell, but I won't rush into decisions either. "

Elior noticed the firmness in her tone but didn't retreat. He stepped a little closer, lowering his head as if trying to make her see reason.

" With all due respect, Lady Grace, " he said with measured calm, " I must tell you that this man has no place in your life. Lord Westlin hasn't returned out of love, but out of pride. What he seeks is to control what he left behind, not to right his wrongs. How can you trust someone who betrayed you so deeply? "

Grace took a deep breath, looking away toward the horizon. His words stung like needles, but there was also something unsettling in his tone, in his persistence. It wasn't just concern she saw in the parson's eyes, but also a poorly concealed jealousy.

" It's not that simple, " she murmured finally, as if speaking to herself more than to Elior. " It's not. "

Elior stepped even closer, lowering his voice as if wanting his words to be heard only by her.

" No, it's not. But decisions must be made before everything falls apart, " he insisted. " Lady Grace, you and Robert deserve better, someone who values you as you should be valued. "

Grace felt frustration beginning to burn inside her. The echo of Elior's words lingered in her mind, but what irritated her the most was the insistence of others trying to decide what was best for her and her son. She knew that people had always talked about her life, her decisions, but now, with Marcus's return, everything seemed to have spiraled out of control.

" Mr. Hartwell, I appreciate your concern, " she said, striving to maintain her composure, " but as you can understand, this is a decision I must make for myself. "

The parson remained silent, watching Grace's face with a mix of disappointment and frustration. He knew she was resolute in her decision, though he couldn't abandon the idea that if Marcus stayed in her life, he would only bring her more suffering.

" If at any point you feel you need support, you know I'm here, " he said at last, stepping back.

Grace nodded, but she wasn't really listening. Her mind was elsewhere, grappling with the ghosts Marcus had brought with him. Elior bowed slightly in farewell, then turned and walked back toward the church.

When she was finally alone, a heavy silence settled over her. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to feel the emotional exhaustion she had been avoiding. Elior's words still hung in the air, but they couldn't dislodge the doubts that had plagued her ever since Marcus reappeared in her life.

She knew the parson was right in many ways. Marcus had hurt her deeply, destroyed her trust. But did that mean he was incapable of change? Every time she recalled his confession, she felt a pang of pain mixed with something else, something she wasn't ready to name yet.

" I love you, Grace, I never stopped loving you. "

That confession, repeated over and over in her mind, tore her apart inside. She knew she had to protect her son, that she couldn't let Westlin hurt him the way he had hurt her. But she also knew that the sincerity in his voice had been undeniable. And that was what confused her the most.

She sat down by the fire, staring at the flames with a distant gaze. Marcus had changed, but was that enough? Could she ever forgive him? The uncertainty consumed her as the shadows of night fell, as dark as her own thoughts.