Chapter Five
The first days of marriage brought with them a curious mixture of tenderness and distance. Blackthorne House seemed to shift in atmosphere, as if awakening from long slumber. The servants moved with cautious optimism, and Eveline found herself both guest and mistress in the grand halls that now bore her name.
Nathaniel proved an enigma still. By day, he remained buried in matters of industry—discussing iron contracts, shipping routes, and financial reports with Thomas Hale. Yet in the evenings, when the two sat together before the fire, he spoke more softly, almost as if rediscovering the sound of his own heart.
One such evening, Eveline found him in the library, a volume of poetry open but unread in his lap. "Is it business that weighs on you, my lord?" she asked gently.
He looked up, the firelight catching the deep lines of thought on his face. "Nathaniel," he murmured. "I think we may dispense with formalities, Eveline."
A blush warmed her cheeks. She seated herself across from him. "Very well, Nathaniel."
He set the book aside. "I confess I find myself at a loss. I have lived so long within walls of my own making. I do not know if I can lower them."
Her heart softened. "You need not lower them all at once," she whispered. "Only enough for one to pass through."
A rare, genuine smile touched his lips. "Then I shall try."
Elsewhere in the house, another story began to unfold. Lieutenant Julian Fitzwilliam, who had lingered after the wedding under the pretense of visiting his sister Honora, had found unexpected company in Miss Harper. Their conversations, first stilted, grew into gentle banter, then into something tinged with the tentative bloom of affection.
Meanwhile, Thomas Hale uncovered a troubling missive: Lord Vincent Harrow had been seen near the docks, in the company of known criminals. The threat to the Ashcroft-Blackthorne union was not idle. It was rising.
Nathaniel and Eveline remained unaware as they navigated the delicate beginnings of their marriage. A moonlit dance in the drawing room, shared laughter over books in the library—small, fleeting moments stitched together, hinting at a future neither had imagined.
But shadows gathered at the edge of their happiness, and soon, secrets—long buried—would demand their reckoning.