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“Verity?” Blinking, I glanced up to see Evander watching me. “Are you well?”
“I need to clear my head. I shall go for a walk. Excuse me,” I said to them. They did not stop me.
Maybe it was a strange sort of grief that had taken over me. Maybe it was not grief at all. But whatever it was, it propelled me into motion, and I wandered about the estate, staring up at the early sun, the air warm and tingling as I walked through the grass. It was a beautiful, clear sunny day, a rarity, and it felt strange.
My brother was dead.
“I knew you would come eventually.”
He was sitting at my favorite tree, among my creeping speedwell, his shirt disheveled, stained even, his curly hair a mess of frizz, and his face blanketed in sorrow and exhaustion. When he rose to his feet, I ran directly into his arms, and he held on to me tightly, resting his cheek against my head.
“I am so sorry I could not save him,” he whispered.
“He was not a good person.”
“He was still your brother. You may grieve for the person he could have been.”
That was it. That was it exactly.
Fitzwilliam could have been a great brother. Had we been born of the same mother—no, had our father done right by us, we all could have been happier. If he had been like Theodore, if he had not attempted to fight Evander over property and money, we could have been a happier family.
The tears slipped from my eyes then as he held on to me tightly. I cried there like a child in his arms.
“I am sorry you had to witness all of this,” I said, releasing only slightly to look up at him. “Thank you for being there.”
“I was coming to you. I saw the paper and wished to see you, but then…the world shifted.”
“I am tired of it shifting and us not being able to go to each other, to be there for each other.”
“As am I.” He cupped my cheek.
“Then…then let us tell my brother.”
“Are you sure now is the time?”
“Time waits for no one. We must tell him.”
He exhaled through his nose and then nodded. “After the funeral, I shall come and speak to him.”
“I shall be there.”
“Verity.”
“I. Shall. Be. There.” I stretched each word. “You may say whatever it is you please, but I shall be there beside you to face it.”
“I love you, Verity Eagleman.”
“And I you, Theodore Darrington.”
Evander
I felt as though a great weight had been removed from my shoulders, but when I recalled what or who exactly was the cause of that, I was cold. Over the last several days, I sought to free myself entirely of any thought of Fitzwilliam, but I could not.
It was not my fault. I did what I had to do to protect my family, to help another. I knew that. But one’s emotions do not always follow one’s mind. My solace was her, my beautiful wife, Aphrodite.
She did not even notice me as I entered the drawing room since she was far more concerned with carefully stitching the hem of a gown on the awful-looking doll she had created for Emeline.
“We could simply buy Emeline a new one,” I said, gaining her attention.
She frowned as she glanced up at me. “That is not the point. It is meant to be made by a mama. Everyone will know if it is bought.”
“Then you could have someone more…adept make it.” I chose my words carefully.
“Are you calling my work ugly?”
“You cannot be skillful in all things, my love, or it would be unfair to the other ladies.” I grinned at her while her eyes narrowed at me.
“Emeline now calls me Mama, and she wants a doll, so I shall make it, and she shall love it even if it looks like—”
“It was raised from the dead?”
“Evander!”
I laughed, leaning over and kissing her cheek. “I am sure Emeline shall love it.”
“Rightly so.” She beamed, so happy Emeline had now taken to calling her Mama. There was no going back now. We were a family; how blessed was I?
“Tomorrow, let us all—”
Knock. Knock.
I paused and turned to the door. “Enter.”
Wallace, our butler, came in with a rather strange look on his face.
“Yes, what is it, Mr. Wallace?” Aphrodite asked him.
“Dr. Darrington is here to see you, Your Grace,” he said, looking at me.
“Were you expecting him?” Aphrodite asked me.
“No.” I shook my head, but he had done so much for us that I did not mind the company. “Show him in.”
Aphrodite placed the doll beside her and faced the door as well.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Wallace replied, opening the door wider. Dr. Darrington entered, dressed in a rather expensive-looking deep-blue coat, his hair cut and fresh, his top hat in his hands. He looked as though he had come for a ball. Just as I opened my mouth to ask what brought him here, Verity entered too.
