Egerton was right. He had become the same as him. Well, not the same; he was a vigilante for goodness, and his actions directly impacted the ladies of thetonfor the better. But in his soul, he had become the same as Egerton. Twisted and ugly. Serving hatred and revenge. Believing himself above the law and above morality. Believing himself better than others. And in doing so, he had lost empathy and thus, himself.
But he wasn’t like that anymore. It hit him with a rush of utter certainty: even if Egerton had said nothing to him just now, even if Egerton had taunted him with his sister’s death, he would not have killed him. Now that he was here, confronted with Egerton, he knew he would not have followed through with it.
Because he was no longer just twisted and full of hate. He was full of another emotion. One that was much stronger, that might even be the most powerful on earth.
Love.
Winston was in love. He gasped as it washed over him and staggered backward—the realization and the acceptance. He wasin lovewith his wife! She was the sun around which his world turned. And in his love for her, the need to harm others was finally washing away. Because she had given him something to love for other than vengeance.
He almost laughed, and a lopsided smile spread across his face as Vanessa’s face shone in front of his eyes. To his shock, tears even pricked his eyes.
“What are you smiling about?” Egerton snarled. “What is wrong with you?”
“I have to go,” Winston said, glancing back at Egerton as if he had forgotten he was even there.
“What do you mean you have to go?” Egerton shouted. “You are here to kill me!”
“No,” Winston said, shaking his head. “I am here to learn something very valuable although I did not realize that until just now. You do deserve to die, Egerton, but it is not my choice where and when that happens. I would have liked it to be, once, but now I know that doing so would only damn me.
“Make no mistake,” he said, drawing himself up. “The fact I will not kill you does not mean that I forgive you for what you did to my sister. I never will. But I do not need to follow you into the darkness. It is not what my sister would have wanted, anyway.She would have wanted me to find the light and to let it guide me back into the world.”
“What are you talking about? Do not speak to me in riddles!”
“Goodbye, Lord Egerton. We will not meet again.”
Egerton somehow managed to struggle to his feet, but Winston had already turned away. “Do not walk away from me!” Egerton screeched. “This is not over between us! Come back, Thornfield!”
But Winston did not turn back around. He walked calmly and assuredly back through the halls of Egerton’s manor house, then pushed open the front doors. Standing just outside the doors was the constable who had interviewed Winston.
“So we meet again,” Winston said, tipping his hat to him. “I believe you will be disappointed to discover that I left Lord Egerton alive and well in there.”
“You--what?” The constable stared at Winston, his face reddening. “I do not--that is not why I am--he is alive?”
“I am afraid so. Rather a cheap scheme, if you ask me. But I hope this proves to you once and for all that I am not the man you are looking for.”
And, laughing, he crossed to his horse and mounted her, just as the constable dashed inside to check on Lord Egerton.
The rain had stopped, but Winston would not have minded if it had not. He had to get home as soon as possible. He had to tell his wife that he loved her—and that he would never again choose vengeance over her.
But when he arrived back at his townhouse at the break of dawn, he found a strange sight: Bow Street Runners standing outside of it in heavy cloaks, their arms crossed as if they were bodyguards over the house.
Winston was exhausted, but the moment he saw the constables, all tiredness vanished.So, they have come for me at last,he thought as he urged his horse forward. To his surprise, he did not feel afraid or even angry. Perhaps this comeuppance was what he deserved. Perhaps it would even feel like penance.
But when he dismounted in front of his house, the constables did not rush forward to arrest him. Instead, a man Winston recognized as the Sergeant came forward, removing his hat as he did so.
“Your Grace,” he said, bowing before Winston. “You have returned…”
“Yes,” Winston said, eyeing the man coolly. “And in case you are wondering, I left Egerton untouched. Your constable was quite disappointed when he tried to arrest me outside of Egerton’s manor house.”
The Sergeant blinked, clearly taken aback by Winston’s directness, and his face registered shock and even a little disappointment, but then he paled and nodded his head.
“I see,” he murmured. “Well, it seems as if we were, perhaps, given incorrect evidence in the case against you. Our man on the inside, as it were, has turned out to be not so trustworthy.”
“What are you talking about?” Winston demanded. “And what are you doing here outside my home?”
“Your Grace… There has been an incident. Lord Langdon, who has been working as a consultant with the Bow Street Runners, was here last night.”
Winston went cold. Panic seized him with a steel grip. “What?!” he roared. “Where is my wife? Is she all right? What has he done with her?”
