She tasted rain on his lips, desperation in the way he held her, something deep and dangerous in the way his thumb tiltedher chin upward to deepen the kiss. Her heart was pounding so hard she feared it might betray her completely.
But still, she kissed him back. Until it became too much. And she pulled away.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this… being held. Being wanted. Beingseen.But she couldn’t continue.
“I–I can’t,” she gasped, stepping back, pressing a hand to her lips. “Elias, I can’t…”
He didn’t reach for her. Didn’t argue. Just watched her with quiet understanding.
“You’re afraid,” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Of this. Ofyou. Of what it means.”
“You think I’ll get too close.”
“I think I already let you.” She turned away, hugging her arms to her chest as she faced the fire. Her body still trembled, not from cold now, but from the storm of memories, fears, and desires all colliding at once. “It’s not just Norton I’m afraid of. It’s what comes after. If we fail. If we succeed. What happens if I stop hiding and find there’s nothing left for me?”
“You’ll never have nothing,” Elias said softly behind her. “Not while I draw breath.”
She closed her eyes as her throat tightened.
“I need you to tell me everything,” he said after a moment. “About Norton. His habits. His secrets. Anything that gives me leverage.”
She turned slightly toward him, clutching the edge of the fireplace. The warmth seared her skin, grounding her.
“He’s careful,” she began. “Always has been. Never drank more than was proper, never raised his voice in public. But in private… he changed. The moment my father died, he claimed guardianship before the will was even read.”
She swallowed hard. “He told me I was to marry him. That it had been arranged. I was seventeen. I said no. That’s when hestarted restricting everything, my missives to friends, my books, the staff I could speak to. If I disobeyed him, I was locked in my room. If I defied him in public, he pinched my arm hard enough to leave bruises but smiled like a perfect gentleman.”
Isobel bit her lip, blinking back the sting in her eyes. “The fire,” she whispered. “I don’t know who started it, but before I could leave, smoke began pouring under my door. I thought… I thought he meant to kill me. But maybe it was someone else. Maybe he lost control of the lie he built.”
Elias’s face darkened. “Thank God you escaped.”
“I ran into the woods. It was raining. I was barefoot, terrified. My maid wasn’t as fortunate. Norton made no effort to investigate the fire or whose body had been charred.”
“Because a dead ward couldn’t claim her inheritance,” Elias muttered.
“Exactly.”
He began to pace, jaw tense, eyes stormy. “What else did your father own?”
“Ledgers,” she said quickly. “Deeds. Letters. He kept meticulous records. But Norton claimed everything had burned in the fire. I don’t believe him.”
“Was there a vault? A study?”
“Yes. In the east wing of the estate, behind the bookcase. A hidden floor safe. My father showed it to me once. I was a child. He said, ‘One day, if someone tries to lie about who you are, you’ll find the truth here.’”
“Do you think it survived?”
“If the fire didn’t spread that far… it’s possible.”
Elias stopped pacing.
“That’s how we do it,” he said. “We make Norton believe the vault was found. That the records are in play. We stir the hornet’s nest. And when he moves to cover his tracks… we’ll be watching.”
Isobel felt a jolt of cautious hope. “You’re going to bait him.”
“I’m going to destroy him,” Elias said flatly. “But I need the right pressure point.”
