“You were fortunate. Not everyone is so lucky.”
And then he was gone.
Evander stood in the quiet room, a heaviness settling in his chest. He didn’t know what haunted his friend, but he could feel it—Alcott was slipping into something dark. And Evander only prayed he could reach him before it consumed him entirely.
Olivia appeared in the doorway. “Your mother is resting now,” she informed him.
Evander set his glass of brandy on the side table and crossed the room without hesitation. “I love you,” he said, the words leaving his lips with more force than he expected.
Her whole face lit up. “And I love you.”
He drew her into his arms. “Thank you for loving me,” he murmured against her temple. “I do not know what I ever did to deserve you.”
She looked up at him then, her brow knitting slightly with concern. “Did something happen with Lord Alcott?”
Evander exhaled a sigh. “He says he’s ready to marry,” he replied. “But only for convenience. Duty, security, heirs. He believes love is beyond his reach.”
“But that’s how we began, and look at where we are now.”
He smiled. “There’s a difference, Livy,” he said, his voice low. He brought a hand to her cheek, tracing the curve with his thumb. “You didn’t know it then, but I was nevernotthinking of you. Not once. From the moment you first walked into my life with those fierce eyes and stubborn opinions, you’ve consumed me, body and soul. You were in my thoughts every hour, in every breath I drew.”
Emotion welled in his chest, thick and overwhelming. It had taken him years—too many—to say those words aloud. And now that he had, the truth of them nearly undid him.
Olivia didn’t speak right away. She didn’t need to. She reached up, her fingers curling behind his neck, and brought her lips to his with a kiss that silenced the world.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes shimmered with the same feeling that had taken root in his own soul. “Then let’s not waste a moment,” she whispered.
He felt the last remnants of restraint crumble. With a rough laugh that caught in his throat, Evander kissed her again—fiercely, reverently. She was everything he had ever wanted, everything he’d once believed he could never have. And now, she was his.
Forever.
EPILOGUE
SEVEN YEARS LATER…
“It’s here!” Olivia called, her voice breathless with excitement as she carefully descended the staircase, one hand braced along the banister, the other cradling her heavily pregnant belly. Each step felt slower these days, but the package waiting on the entryway table gave her new energy.
She reached the bottom and paused in front of the brown-wrapped parcel, her heart giving a delighted little leap.Finally.Gillingham was already slicing through the twine with his usual precision, stepping back once the box was open.
Olivia reached inside and pulled out the green leather-bound book, its cover supple and cool beneath her fingers. The scent of fresh parchment rose to meet her—clean and crisp, full of promise. Her lips parted in a smile.After all those years… all those nights of quiet scribbling… it was real.
Clutching the book, she turned on her heel and headed for the rear of the townhouse, passing familiar portraits and polished side tables, until she reached the open study door. Sunlight streamed in through tall windows behind Evander’smahogany desk. He was bent over a stack of correspondence, but two familiar heads—dark and tousled—were on the carpet beside him, deep in battle with wooden soldiers and dramatically whispered cannon fire.
“Your book is here,” she announced, pride coloring every syllable.
Evander looked up sharply, eyes wide, and pushed his chair back with a scraping sound. He was on his feet a moment later, striding towards her.
“I can’t believe it,” he breathed as he took the book from her. “I never thought I’d actually be published.”
Olivia’s heart swelled. “I don’t know why you sound surprised. You’re the smartest man I know.”
He glanced at her with a lopsided smile. “You have to say that, Wife.” But there was wonder in his voice as he read aloud from the cover:“The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire by Evander Addington, the Earl of Everwyck.”
She stepped closer and brushed a kiss to his cheek. “You did it.”
He turned to face her more fully, his eyes unexpectedly tender. “Thank you for encouraging me. None of this would’ve happened without you.”
“I merely cheered you on,” she countered softly. “You’re the one who stayed up until all hours, muttering about Caesar’s military campaigns and questioning footnote placement.”
