Page 81 of A Wallflower for the Disguised Earl

“I approve,” Lady Margaret stated simply.

The two words carried the weight of a royal pardon. It cost the dowager countess nothing to grant it now, but Corinna knew intimately how much it must have cost her pride to arrange it.

“Thank you, Mother,” Edmund said quietly.

Sir Gerald stepped forward. The broad-shouldered country baronet looked at Corinna with the humbled eyes of a man seeing his daughter clearly for the very first time, stripped of all social ambitions and broadsheet lies.

“I am sorry it took me this long, Corinna,” Sir Gerald said, his voice thick with unvoiced emotion.

Corinna did not offer a polite platitude. She stepped across the threshold, wrapped her arms tightly around her father’s neck, and buried her face in his shoulder. Sir Gerald pulled her close, his hand smoothing the back of her hair. She said nothing because, in that quiet moment, words were entirely unnecessary.

***

Later that afternoon, the sunlight finally cut through the London fog, casting long, golden bars across the walled garden behind the townhouse.

Julian found Arabella standing near the old stone bench where the climbing roses were beginning to bud. The air was crisp, smelling of damp earth and coming spring.

“You followed me out,” Arabella noted, turning to face him as he approached down the gravel path.

“I did,” Julian said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark coat. He looked uncharacteristically nervous, the brilliant, theatrical charm of the faux-earl completely stripped away, leaving only the man beneath.

“Is Edmund still arguing with your mother about the wedding breakfast?”

“He is. Which means I have precisely five minutes before he drags me back inside to referee.” Julian stopped a foot away from her. He looked down at the gravel, then back up into her gentle brown eyes. “Arabella, I do not have a speech prepared. And I certainly do not have a clever metaphor involving chess or paintings.”

Arabella tilted her head, a small, curious smile touching her lips. “I am exceedingly glad to hear it.”

“I have nothing to offer you that matches what you deserve,” Julian said, his voice dropping into a low, entirely earnest register. “I have a complicated past, a messy life, and an unfortunate habit of finding trouble. But I intend to spend the rest of my life correcting that imbalance, if you will allow me.”

Arabella looked at him for a long, breathless moment. She searched his dark eyes, finding the absolute, unvarnished truth waiting there.

“Yes,” Arabella said softly, before he had quite finished asking the question.

Julian let out a disbelieving laugh of pure relief, closed the distance between them, and pulled her into his arms.

***

The following morning, the Mayfair townhouse was a flurry of packing trunks and muted farewells.

Vivienne Ashwell was leaving London. She stood in the front hallway, dressed in a traveling pelisse of dark wool, waiting for the carriage to be brought around. There was no entourage, no frantic demands for attention, and no glittering crowd. It was quiet, which was entirely new.

Corinna descended the stairs just as her sister adjusted her gloves.

“You are leaving early,” Corinna said, stopping a few paces away.

Vivienne turned. For a second, the defensive armor flickered. “The country will be quieter. Father arranged it.”

“Will you be alright, Vivienne?”

Vivienne looked down at the marble floor, swallowing hard. “I am sorry, Corinna. Not just for the pamphlets, though God knows I am sorry for that. But for years before that. For every small cruelty I told myself didn’t count because I wanted to win.”

Corinna stepped closer. “I know.”

“Cecily told me exactly what I wanted to hear,” Vivienne admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “She told me I deserved better than a sister always one step ahead of her, that decisiveness was its own kind of virtue. I wanted so badly to believe it that I never bothered to ask whether it was true.”

“She is a master manipulator,” Corinna agreed quietly. “You survived her, Vivienne. That is what matters now.”

Vivienne looked up, meeting her younger sister’s eyes across the hallway they had spent a lifetime crossing together. The old rivalry hung in the air between them for a final second before it quietly shifted, settling into something far more honest, something that might, eventually, become a true sisterhood.