Even now, she sat across from him in the parlor, watching him read a book while Bernadette played the piano and sang for them as Valaria and Callum playfully danced and laughed, and she could see a lifetime like this. With good friends and easy times and pleasure.
There was a light knock on the parlor door, and everyone looked up at once as Callum’s butler entered the chamber. “Excuse me, Your Graces, Mr. Desmond.”
Callum moved toward him a step. “Not at all. What is it, Mitchell?”
“Two letters have arrived,” he said, and held out the missives. “One for Mr. Desmond and one for the Duchess of Tunbridge.”
Roarke and Bernadette exchanged a glance and then Bernadette got up from the pianoforte so they could walk to Mitchell together.
“Who could have…” Bernadette began, and then her face lit up. “Oh, it’s Theo’s handwriting on both.”
Roarke’s expression grew sharper and he almost snatched the letter away, tearing it open and reading it with shaking hands. Flora went to him, resting a hand on his back. “He reached London and your mother.”
Roarke nodded. “Yes. He says she is well and he has moved her to his London estate temporarily. It seems her companion, Hilde, was approached by my cousins just before his arrival. They were harassed.” He was pale as paper. “But Mama is safe now.”
She heard the waver in his voice and stared at him. This man, who was so strong, so decent, had been torn apart in the last few years by circumstance and mistakes and the horrible nature of his cousins. And while the first things were not related to her, the last certainly was. He had been used as a weapon because her stepchildren were focused on her as a target.
Everything she needed to do became crystal clear in that moment.
“We need to go back to London,” she said, her tone firm and even. “We all do. It’s time we face this head on and free us all from this terror.”
Roarke turned on her, the pages of Theo’s letter fluttering to the ground at his feet. He had a fearful look on his face that broke her heart even further. “Absolutely not.”
Callum stepped forward. “I tend to agree with Roarke. Going back to London seems an unnecessary risk for you, Flora. The rest of us can go and you can remain safely here while we—”
She stared at him and then back at Roarke. “You cannot be serious in that suggestion. You think I would remain here doing, what? Crocheting, strolling the dead garden in the rain like a gothic heroine with armed servants trailing me? While you face off with people who apparently want me dead?”
“Because they want you dead,” Roarke said. “And have tried to actually fulfill that desire not three days ago. That is why, yes, you should stay here.”
Frustration rose in her, spreading through her chest, and she folded her arms and glared at him. “And just what do you think you and Callum and Theo can do when you ride in on your horses with capes flowing behind you heroically? My stepchildren have proven they don’t give a damn about anything but keeping the inheritance they believe will be wrongly bestowed upon me. Nothing you three can say or do will change that. And they will only become more desperate as the anniversary of their father’s death grows nearer.”
Roarke opened and shut his mouth and looked at Callum, who shrugged. They couldn’t argue with the truth in the end. She knew it and so did they.
She caught Roarke’s hands and held them both, pulling his attention back to her and her only. “This will not end, none of us can be free, until I resolve things with my stepchildren once and for all.” He opened his mouth again, but she cut him off before he could start. “You will be with me, Roarke. Certainly we will need to arrange the safest situation for this to happen, I don’t disagree. But in the end, I must face this dragon. And I must slay it myself.”
“This isn’t a fairytale,” Roarke said with a shake of his head that showed his frustration matched her own. He released her hands and stepped back. “I’ve known the three of them much longer than you have and I’ve heard the way they look and sound when they talk about you. If you try to face them head on, you’ll be strolling into a viper’s den. I can’t be a part of that.”
She blinked as she looked up at him, saw his fear on her behalf slashed across his expression. “Then don’t be.”
Valaria caught her breath across the room, and Callum stepped back to offer them space as Roarke recoiled slightly. “What?”
Her chest hurt but she forced herself to continue, “They dragged you into this mess, but it’s because of me. Because of my relationship with their father. Because they feel I took something from them.”
“I’m not sending you off alone to them!” he said, his voice elevating.
She drew in a long breath. “You say you don’t want to be there for this, but you don’t want me to be alone. And it’s not fair, but you must choose one. Because I’m not asking your permission, Roarke. I spent my life doing that. Asking my father, asking my husband. I can’t ask anymore. For the first time since Stuart’s death, I know what to do. Both for myself and for you. And it feels good, even if I’m afraid. Please don’t take that away from me.”
He stared at her, his eyes wide and wild, filled with pain she wished desperately she could assuage. “I lost you once,” he said. “Because I made a mistake. And the idea that I might make another one and lose you again, lose you permanently, that would be too much to bear.” He took her hand. “I’m not sure you comprehend their hatred for you.”
“A man tried to kill me,” she whispered. “And I watched him try to kill you. Don’t underestimate me.”
He shut his eyes and let her go. “I never would. Not you or them.” He backed up. “I’d be a fool to think I could change your mind or that I’ve earned the right to do so. I just hope your friends will talk you into actions more sensible.”
With that he turned and left the room. Left her feeling empty, but not unsure.
“Flora,” Callum said softly.
She shook her head without looking at him. “If he couldn’t convince me, neither can you. I will face off with them at last. If you all love me, you’ll just help me figure out how to do it as safely as possible. Even if Roarke is unable to stand by my side.”
Roarke hadn’t rejoined the party after Flora’s announcement that she would face off with her stepchildren. And she hadn’t joined him in his bed that night. But the lot of them had loaded up in carriages and on horses the next morning and were now making the day and a half trip back to London.
Roarke rode alongside Valaria and Callum’s carriage. Inside were Valaria, Bernadette and Flora. Sometimes he saw Flora push back the curtain and look at him, her expression unreadable.
He tried to make his the same.
Callum eased his horse up beside Roarke and cleared his throat. Roarke gave him a side glance. His friend had joined him riding outside twenty minutes before but hadn’t said anything much beyond casual conversation about the roads. This was clearly not going to be a conversation about that.
“You look sick,” Callum said gently. “It is troubling that you would ride yourself to pain rather than just talk to her.”