“It is you that I want. Because no one else makes sense.”
She drew in a breath.Say it. Tell him.
“I love?—”
Gillingham reappeared, clearing his throat. “Pardon the interruption, but your father is rather insistent that you join him in the study.”
Evander closed his eyes for a brief moment, then gave a humorless smile. “My father is anything but patient.” He took astep back but kept hold of her hand. “I’d like you to come with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Where I go, you go,” he said simply. “No more secrets.”
That one sentence stole the air from her lungs. She nodded, letting him lead her. Her hand remained wrapped in his, warm and certain. As they walked down the corridor, she could see the tension around his mouth. His grief and guilt hadn’t left him—not yet. But perhaps they could face it together.
They entered the study, and Olivia felt Evander’s hand tense slightly in hers.
Lord Everwyck sat in one of the wingback chairs, a glass in his hand and a scowl etched across his weathered face. He barely glanced at them. “Why is Olivia here?”
“I asked her to join me,” Evander replied.
The earl gave a huff of disapproval and took a sip. Then his eyes, sharper now, turned to Olivia. “I heard you were abducted.”
“I was,” Olivia said, her voice even.
A flicker of something passed across Lord Everwyck’s face—regret? Guilt? She couldn’t be sure. “I am relieved beyond words that you escaped unharmed.”
The sincerity in his tone startled her. “Thank you, my lord.”
He leaned forward, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “I believe the time has come to seriously consider selling the indigo plantation.”
Evander’s brow creased. “You were opposed to that before.”
“I was,” the earl admitted. “But whoever is behind these attacks won’t stop until we are all in the ground. I can’t allow that to happen.”
Olivia studied him quietly. There was a weariness about him, one she hadn’t noticed before. The stubborn pride that usually defined him had been dimmed. He looked... tired. Human.
Evander’s voice cut into her thoughts. “It’s not your decision to make, is it?”
Lord Everwyck’s head lifted slowly. “What do you mean?”
“I know that Bryon left the plantation to me in his will.”
The earl stiffened, his knuckles tightening around the arm of the chair. “That plantation belongs to the estate. It never should have been in Bryon’s name in the first place. He used funds that he acquired from gambling.”
“But it was. And now it belongs to me,” Evander said. He glanced towards Olivia. “What are your thoughts? Should I sell it?”
Her eyes widened, not just at the question, but at what it meant. Hetrustedher. Hevaluedher.
Lord Everwyck gave a scoffing laugh. “What kind of man asks his wife for advice on estate matters?”
Evander didn’t blink. “A smart one.”
Olivia’s heart swelled. She looked at the man beside her and realized—utterly, completely—that he was her home, her haven, her future.
Evander turned to her. “What do you think, my dear?”
My dear.
