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How could she not, when he said things like that so matter-of-factly?
“Oh, do shut up.”
Seraphina glanced over Trevor’s shoulder to where Mr. Emerson had just stalked out of the building behind him. His narrowed eyes were sharp as daggers, but all of the pomp from earlier had drained out of him, leaving him deflated.
Mr. Emerson adjusted his cravat. “You may not have been thrown in prison, but all of society now knows what you do. You’ll be an outcast.”
On her other side, James had started trembling, so she moved to block him from the view of his former employer. He didn’t deserve to be put through anything further.
“The trouble is, you don’t understand me as much as you like to think you do,” she told him.
Yes, she’d intentionally cultivated a certain reputation, but not because she enjoyed it. Simply because it made it easier to do her work as a young, unmarried woman.
She didn’t need the same protection now.
“I don’t need society’s approval,” she went on. “Not when I have Trevor, who has always seen me for exactly who I am and cares for me regardless of my flaws. I don’t need to hide anymore. Society can’t break me.”
“You had all of London at your feet.” The polish had gone from his voice entirely. “And you chose a title over someone who could be your equal in ways that actually matter.”
“You’re being blind. I didn’t choose a title, I chose Trevor. You’ve never known who I truly am—not like he does. You wanted me because of the performance I felt I had to put on, and now, thanks to you, I don’t have to do that anymore.”
Their carriage trundled over to them, and the footman opened the door. Seraphina took a step toward it, but Mr. Emerson grabbed for her.
Mr. Vane intercepted the action smoothly, as if he’d expected it. “Don’t lay a hand on Lady Fitzgerald.”
Mr. Emerson’s lips moved wordlessly, as if he were stunned silent by the audacity of the solicitor in addressing him without the respect he considered himself to be due.
Seraphina grinned, finally feeling enough herself to enjoy the reaction. “Imagine what the ton will think when it’s your turn to stand in the dock. I wonder if anyone bet on that outcome.” She waggled her fingers at him. “I hope I never see you again. Goodbye, Mr. Emerson.”
With that, she ascended into the carriage. Trevor joined her, and the footman closed the door.
“Mr. Vane and Mr. Smith aren’t joining us?” she asked.
“Mr. Vane has his own carriage arranged to take him to his office, and Mr. Smith will accompany him to fill out an employment agreement. We offered him a position at Nunhaven so he wouldn’t face retribution from Mr. Emerson. Apparently he prefers the country, so it suits him nicely.”
“I’m glad he won’t suffer because he helped us, and I suppose that means we’ll be seeing a lot more of him in future. I imagine it would be uncomfortable for us to remain in London for a while. We’d be better off retreating to Nunhaven.”
CHAPTER 30
“Returning to Lincolnshire sounds like a dream,” Trevor admitted, feeling an ache of longing in his chest for the lovely gardens and the pond on the neighboring estate where he could indulge his botanical curiosity for hours while the sun shone overhead. “But don’t you want to earn back your reputation? I know you told Emerson that you don’t care, but you worked hard for it. Surely you don’t want to lose all that work?”
Seraphina laughed—her real one—which he hadn’t heard properly since before Emerson attempted to blackmail her. “My reputation was a useful tool. As you pointed out, it was a mask, and it was a way for me to hide, but I don’t need it now. Thanks to Mr. Emerson, I no longer have any secrets, and anyway, why would I want to cultivate a deceptive reputation when you’ve shown me how much better it feels to be sincerely myself?”
“I… You… What?”
How had he done that?
She intertwined her fingers with his, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. “You let me be myself, and you’re authentically yourself in return. I never knew how much I needed that.”
A low, warm buzzing sensation started in his lower gut, and he turned to face her as much as he could while they were sitting side by side, then cupped her cheek with his free hand and softly kissed her.
“Why would I want you to be anyone else? You’re clever, and thoughtful, and strong.” If there were better qualities for a spouse, he didn’t know them. “I don’t know how being myself helped, though. I’m always so awkward and difficult.”
She scoffed, and nuzzled into his palm, dropping a kiss on the exposed skin of his wrist. “You’re brilliant, and I love you.”
What?
Had he heard that correctly?
