The butler opened the main door with a quiet creak. Cold air spilled into the marble-floored hall, and Dominic paused, letting Dorothea take her time. She turned slightly, her eyes sweeping across the familiar space. He said nothing, allowing her the moment. Some goodbyes could not be rushed.
Finally, she met his gaze. “I’m ready.”
He offered his arm again and guided her down the front steps, helping her into his waiting coach with care. Once shewas seated, he climbed in and settled across from her. The interior was quiet, insulated from the world outside. The thrum of tension between them was almost tangible.
Dorothea stared at him for a long moment, as if studying every line of his face, every subtle shift in his expression. “Is this truly happening?” she whispered.
Dominic leaned back slightly. “It is,” he said. “But you should know… the man you once knew… he didn’t come back from the war. I did, but I am not the same.”
She didn’t flinch. “You saved me,” she remarked softly. “Just as you promised you would.”
A furrow creased Dominic’s brow. “I… I don’t remember making that promise.”
The confession hung between them, heavy and uncomfortable. And yet, it wasn’t just the words. It was the way she was looking at him now. Not with fear or hesitation, but with something far more dangerous.
Hope.
Dominic looked away. He wasn’t the man she remembered. Not entirely. And he wasn’t sure he could become him again. But for now, he was all she had.
3
Dorothea sat quietly in the coach, hardly able to believe that Dominic was here.With her. It felt surreal, as though her mind had conjured him from the fog of her longing and grief. Not even in her most desperate dreams had she dared imagine he would come back from the dead. And yet, here he was, very much alive… and pulling her from the shadow of her brother’s control.
Her gaze lingered on him as he stared out the window. He looked stronger than she remembered. Healthier. The last time she’d seen him, his face had been drawn and ashen, his lips tinged with blue from blood loss. She’d been convinced he wouldn’t last the night. And when word came of his death, she had wept for him.
But none of that mattered now. They were together again.Married,even. She didn’t know everything about the man across from her, but she knew enough. He had been a respected soldier—brave, disciplined—and through all his agony, he had treated her with a gentleness few men possessed.
Now they had a lifetime to get to know one another truly, and the idea brought an unexpected warmth to her chest.
Dominic turned suddenly, catching her in the act of watching him. His brows knit together. “Stop looking at me like that,” he said, his tone gruff.
“Like what?” she asked, startled.
“Like I’m your hero,” he muttered, looking away again.
“But you are.”
He exhaled through his nose, visibly uncomfortable. “I’m no one’s hero. I just… I hate bullies. And your brother is one.”
Dorothea tucked a loose strand of red hair back into the chignon she’d hastily tied earlier that morning. “That he is,” she murmured. “After our father died, he changed… for the worse.”
Dominic’s expression sobered. “I’m sorry about your father. He was a good man.”
“The best,” she said, her smile touched with sorrow. “Not every father would allow their daughter to accompany them to war.”
“That was reckless of him,” Dominic remarked. “Foolish, even.”
“Perhaps,” she replied, “but if he hadn’t, I never would have met you.” Her voice softened as she asked, “Are you truly a baron?”
He nodded. “The title was granted for my service in the Royal Army. I returned from war with more scars than medals, but the Crown still saw fit to give me a title.”
Dorothea felt an almost giddy flutter inside.A baroness.It sounded too grand to belong to her. “Then I owe you everything,” she said, nearly breathless.
“There’s no need to thank me,” Dominic replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “The truth is… I don’t remember much of our time together. Our courtship, if there even was one.”
She felt a stab of disappointment, not knowing how much he had remembered. In a steady voice, she shared, “There wasn’tmuch. You were recovering when I met you. I used to sit by your bedside at the hospital, and I’d talk for hours—about anything, really. You seemed calmer when I was there. Less in pain.”
“And that led to marriage?” he asked with a note of disbelief.
