O’Brien nodded sharply. “Strictly off the record, sir, I’d have done the same thing, were someone I loved at risk.” He stood and shook Adrian’s hand again. He started to leave, then turned back around, meeting Adrian’s gaze directly. “By the way, sir, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about the man they call Prometheus, would you?”
Adrian was so taken off guard, he flinched and then struggled to maintain a cool facade. “Excuse me?”
O’Brien shrugged. “Well, when I questioned your half-brother about one of his businesses burning down not too long ago, he seemed to think you might have something to do with it. He claimed you were Prometheus.”
Adrian forced a laugh. “The man is unstable, obviously.”
O’Brien grinned and put on his hat. “As I said before, off the record, I think Prometheus has the right idea. If it were up to me, I’d burn all those places down, too. But given this latest incident, I hope he takes a step back for a while.”
With a wink, the officer turned and left.
Silence reigned for several moments, and then Clinton gave a shaky laugh. “I’m thinking Prometheus needs to take a good long break, sir.”
Vanessa leaned her head on Adrian’s shoulder and gave him a look filled with love and respect. “Prometheus is hanging up his mask,” she assured Clinton. “Adrian’s done enough. It’s my turn to rescue him.”
Adrian squeezed her tightly and kissed the top of her head, her hair still damp and smelling so sweet it brought tears to his eyes. “You already have, my darling,” he whispered. “You already have.”
Epilogue
March 1898
Adrian paced his bedroom, his nerves drawn tight as a bow. In the next room, Vanessa labored to give birth to their child. He wanted to be in there with her, but the doctor had refused to allow it.
“You look as though you’re about to pass out. Sit down and have a drink,” Morgan coaxed, though he didn’t look much better himself.
Adrian had assured his twin that he didn’t need to be here, worried that it would bring up all the memories that Morgan was just now starting to deal with, but his brother had refused to take the easy way out. He’d been determined to be here as a show of support, and given the rocky road their relationship had traveled in the long months since Anne’s death, Adrian was grateful that he’d come at all.
“I don’t want to be too foxed to enjoy this,” Adrian said stubbornly, though he’d actually like nothing more than to numb his fear and anxiety with an entire bottle of brandy.
Vanessa was young and healthy. All through her pregnancy, she’d glowed with vibrant happiness. He knew that the odds of something happening to her were very slim, but the memory of Anne’s skirts soaked with blood had haunted him since the moment his beautiful wife had told him she was expecting a baby.
In the months after the terrible tragedy that had rocked their family, Vanessa had been steadfast at his side. She’d proven her love for him in a thousand different ways, and together, they were putting the trauma of their pasts behind them, determined to forge a bright future.
He couldn’t imagine living without her now. The mere thought made his anxiety climb even higher.
“That’s wise. You only get this moment once.” Lucien sat near the fireplace, holding a sleeping Gabriel on his lap. They’d all undergone so many changes this year, Lucien perhaps most of all, but through it all, Lucien had remained the consummate big brother, putting everyone else’s needs in front of his own. In fact, whenever he thought about what Lucien had almost given up, in an attempt to spare Adrian and Vanessa from being hurt, it humbled him.
