He turned as she approached, a broad smile upon his face. “You must think you are having a holiday, for you rose later than I expected. I have been waiting for hours.”
“You have not,” Olivia scolded playfully. “It is barely eight o’clock.”
“And I have been here since dawn,” he replied, grinning.
Olivia flashed him a mock withering look. “You mean, you returned at dawn.”
“Indeed,” he conceded, “and I could not sleep, waiting for you to awaken. We must come here at dawn one morning. It is so peaceful I almost wept, though that might also be the lack of sleep. I feel quite mad, in truth.”
She laughed softly. “You are behaving like a weasel that has scented trouble.” She mimicked his actions, moving her head in jarring motions, her eyes darting wildly. “But you are smiling. I trust that means your journey went well?”
“It rather depends on your understanding of the word “well.” It happened, I said all I meant to say, and I left him to his beloved solitude,” he replied. “But… I got what I went for, if that makes even the smallest morsel of sense? I am… unburdened.”
Olivia went to sit beside him. “Do you mean that, or are you just saying it to soothe my worries?”
“I mean it,” he replied, nodding. “I am… free of the hold he had upon me. In truth, it is something I should have done years ago, but I was always too afraid to see him again. It was liberating, in truth. I saw him for what he is, at long last, and that shall fortify me for the rest of my days: he is just a weak, lonely, stubborn old man with no one left to whip. I think I… pity him now, and that is far better than fearing him.”
Olivia boldly reached for Evan’s hand and raised it to her lips, kissing it gently. “Oh, my love. Ever since you left, I have worried that I made a mistake in making you go there.” She kissed his hand again, the skin somewhat rough against her lips. “I am relieved beyond words that it turned out to be necessary medicine for your heart.”
“It is my aunt’s poor back you should have worried about; she has not ceased complaining since we departed Lisbret House.” Evan laughed, and there was no resistance or pain in his eyes. His laughter was free and genuine, so joyful that it filled Olivia’s heart to the brim.
“Poor Amelia.”
Evan wafted a dismissive hand, sweeping that same palm to Olivia’s cheek, cradling it. “You should know that theremightbe retribution, but I am doubtful that my father has the strength or connections remaining to do anything to hurt us.”
“Retribution? For what?” Olivia’s heart lurched into her throat.
Evan sighed with deep satisfaction. “I sent a note to the scandal sheets this morning, by express messenger. I told them which story to print.” He briefly explained that he had sent two versions to his acquaintance at the scandal sheets, to undo the damage to his reputation. “In one version, I blamed an old “schoolfriend,” using the name of a man that does not exist. It detailed that I was threatened by this very same “friend,” which is why I severed our engagement, to protect you. In the second version, I told the truth. More or less.”
“More or less?” Olivia choked, struggling to make sense of what she was hearing.
“There is one alteration—I did not want to reveal that your father forged a letter from you. I have asked them to say that my fatherwanted to break us apart instead, by insisting that you were part of his scheme from the beginning. Not an untruth, but not the whole truth, either. Essentially, my entire story will be exposed in the scandal sheets, with a few embellishments to ensure that my father is never accepted in society again,” Evan explained, brushing his thumb across the apple of Olivia’s cheek.
Olivia gasped. “Oh, my love.”
“It is my last act of revenge, I promise,” he told her, looking a little shy as if wary of her response. “In truth, it is not even revenge, it is just… satisfaction. His punishment. And he could have prevented it; I gave him the opportunity, asking only for an apology, but he would not.”
She gazed up into his eyes. “Can you live without an apology?”
“With you, undoubtedly.” He smiled, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “I love you, Olivia. I will not allow anything to shadow our happiness again.”
She smiled back at him. “What of your inheritance?”
“Will that change your mind about me?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
“He might disinherit me from the dukedom, but the marquisate—aside from the manor—is still mine,” Evan said. “And Daniel has already offered to bring me into his business endeavors. You shall never want for anything, my love, and anything youdowant, you may have. I will find a way.”
Her breath hitched. “I just want you, my love. And yet… you have not asked.”
“I knew that patience was not one of your virtues, but itiscustomary to allow the gentleman to wait for the perfect moment,” he chided playfully, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Now shall suffice. My love, my dearest, might you do me the greatest honor by consenting, at last, to be my wife?”
Olivia looped her arms around his neck, giddy with the prospect of being able to hold him and kiss him and love him for the rest of her life. “It would bemyhonor, my love.” She swallowed thickly. “Yes, dearest Evan. With all my heart, yes.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, dipping his head.
“What for?”
