Page 113 of Duke of Sapphire

“Yes,” Eleanor said. She patted the sofa. “Come sit.”

He obeyed, climbing up between them again. Charlotte watched him settle and felt something twist inside.

He is back where he belongs. This is what we wanted. So why does my chest feel like this?

She poured another cup and tried to ignore the ache.

* * *

“Ye have to kiss me forehead,” Ian said.

Henry stood near the doorframe, watching. Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blanket over Ian’s legs.

“Do I?” she asked.

“Aye,” Ian said. “Ye did it afore, when ye said goodnight, an’ ye have to do it now. It keeps the dragon dreams away.”

Henry’s hand curled around the wood of the frame.

Of course she kisses his forehead. Of course he accepts that as the surest guard against dragons.

Charlotte smiled and leaned in, pressing her lips lightly to Ian’s brow. “Goodnight,” she said. “Sleep well.”

Ian sighed and settled deeper into the pillow. “Ye’ll be here in the mornin’?” he asked, eyes already drooping.

“We are nae leavin',” Eleanor said. She sat on the far side of the bed, her sling supported by a small cushion. Nathan stood just behind her, one hand resting on her shoulder.

Henry felt the words settle.

They are not leaving. That is the point. That is what this has all been for.

He watched Charlotte straighten. She moved toward the door and toward him. When she came close, her shoulder passed within inches of his chest, and for a moment her eyes met his. They held.

Say you are glad. Say you are relieved. Say you are exhausted. Any of those would be true.

She said nothing. Then she brushed past him and stepped into the corridor.

Nathan chuckled quietly. “We’ve lost him already,” he said, looking down at Ian’s slack hand on the blanket. “He’s asleep.”

Eleanor’s fingers lay gently on Ian’s arm. “He’s happy,” she said.

Henry stayed where he was. He watched them together, a small knot at the center of the room. Ian’s head turned slightly toward Eleanor even in sleep. Nathan’s shoulders sloped, his entire attention on the child between them.

This is right. This is exactly what should be. Ian with his parents. A family restored. No more guardianship letters about stable roofs and haylofts and tutors fleeing in terror.

Henry did not feel the calm he had expected. Instead, he felt strangely bereft.

Ian will not need you now, a voice in his thoughts said. Not in the same way.

He would not be the one Ian called for in the night, nor the person the boy looked for in the morning. He had been standing in for Nathan, and that need had returned to where it belonged.

The thought moved further.

And the reasons for your marriage no longer exist.

Nothing remained to justify Charlotte’s presence. There was no scandal to manage, and no practical argument that required his wife at his side. Only Charlotte herself was left along with what he felt for her.

His heart began to pound, and he felt slightly unsteady.