“Whatever you are going to do,” she said. “But do not do it while thinking you are already losing me.”
Dorian did not answer immediately, but something in him shifted at her certainty, as though it reached him more deeply than anything he had prepared to say. Then, slowly, he nodded.
“I am not losing you,” he murmured.
And he truly believed that.
CHAPTER 29
The following morning felt unnaturally calm after the violence of the storm.
Rosemere House stood washed clean, every path and hedge glistening with rainwater, the air smelling of wet earth and roses.
For the first time in days, Anne woke without the crushing ache in her chest that had followed her into every room. She still felt emotionally exhausted, wrung out by everything that had happened the night before, but the heaviness inside her had shifted. It was still unsteady but no longer hopeless.
She found Eleanor in the garden after breakfast, seated on a wrought-iron bench near the rose hedges with a cup of tea in hand and an expression so composed it immediately made her suspicious.
Eleanor looked up as Anne approached, and the smallest smile touched her mouth. “Well?” she prompted.
Anne narrowed her eyes as she sat beside her. “Do not say a word.”
“I have not said anything yet.”
“You are thinking enough for both of us.”
Eleanor let out a low laugh. She set down her teacup before turning toward Anne with unmistakable interest. “You look different. Tell me everything.”
Anne hesitated for only a moment before exhaling slowly. There was no point in resisting. Eleanor would simply pester her until she got answers.
“He rode through the storm,” she revealed.
“Last night’s storm?”
Anne nodded.
Eleanor stared at her for a moment before leaning back against the bench, satisfaction flickering in her eyes. “Your husband is completely unhinged.”
Anne felt a small smile tug at her lips. Eleanor immediately noticed.
“Oh, that is dreadful,” she snorted. “You are smiling, which means you are already lost.”
Anne looked away, warmth creeping into her face. “He arrived soaked through. Half frozen too, I think. He was pounding on the front door like the house was on fire, and he… he apologized.”
Eleanor softened at that. The amusement remained, but her gaze was more serious now.
“Properly?” she asked.
“Properly. He did not try to charm me, nor did he make any excuses. He told me about Lily, the real story. He told me what losing her actually did to him. He admitted that since her death, fear had ruled every important decision he had made. He said he convinced himself that attachment only destroyed people. He told me he hesitated because part of him truly believed I deserved someone better than him.”
Eleanor closed her eyes briefly. “That idiotic man. What happened next?”
Anne refused to meet her gaze. She knew all too well that her friend would delight in it, and despite herself, she rather felt like doing the same.
“He went down on his knees.”
Eleanor went very still. Anne could practically feel her suppressing a delighted gasp.
“Please do not look so pleased,” she groaned.
