Chapter Four
The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, the London sky an uncharacteristic expanse of pale blue. Sunlight filtered through the windows of Blackthorne House, glinting off silver and crystal, casting warmth on otherwise cold marble floors.
Eveline stood before the tall mirror in her chambers, dressed in a gown of ivory silk and delicate lace. Miss Harper fastened the final pearl button with careful fingers.
"Your mother would have been proud," Miss Harper murmured softly.
Eveline's throat tightened. "I hardly feel worthy of the moment." She caught her own reflection: the tilt of her chin, the anxious glint in her eyes. "I wonder if I am walking toward happiness—or away from it."
Below, in the garden where the ceremony was to take place, guests gathered. Lady Honora arrived early, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. She was accompanied by her brother, Lieutenant Julian Fitzwilliam, newly returned from service in India. Julian, with his easy charm and roguish smile, offered an unexpected element to the gathering, especially when his eyes met those of the observant Miss Harper.
Meanwhile, Thomas Hale moved discreetly among the guests, his gaze sharp. He had received word of Lord Vincent Harrow's presence in London and had taken precautions, though Nathaniel remained unaware of the full threat Harrow posed.
Nathaniel himself stood at the far end of the garden, immaculate in a dark tailored coat. His heart pounded—a strange sensation for a man who prided himself on control. As he watched the guests assemble, his thoughts drifted unbidden to Eveline: her quiet dignity, the way her laughter warmed cold rooms.
At last, the music began. Eveline, her arm looped through her uncle's, stepped onto the garden path. Gasps rippled through the assembled company—not at scandal, but at the sheer grace of the sight.
Nathaniel's breath caught. For the first time in years, something within him stirred beyond duty: longing.
As vows were exchanged beneath the budding roses, a gentle breeze lifted Eveline's veil. Their hands met, their voices steady. And when Nathaniel spoke the words "I do," he knew, with startling clarity, that he meant them.
But among the smiles and applause, one pair of eyes—cold, watchful—remained fixed on the couple. Lord Vincent Harrow, hidden behind a facade of civility, watched as his plans to dismantle the Ashcroft legacy grew darker.
Love had blossomed in the unlikeliest of places. But shadows still lingered, and Eveline's new life was only just beginning.