“What if it doesn’t? What if love makes you stronger, rather than weaker?” The Dowager Duchess’s tone grew urgent. “Owen, you can spend your entire life avoiding risk, but all you’ll accomplish is guaranteeing loneliness. Is that really preferable to the possibility of happiness?”
He thought of Iris’s tears, of Evie’s trusting smile, of the warmth that had filled his empty house when they’d arrived. Was he really prepared to return to the icy silence that had defined his existence before? To choose safety over the chance of building something real?
“I need to think.”
“Don’t think.Feel. For once in your stubborn life, let your heart guide your decisions instead of your head.” The Dowager Duchess rose, gathering her reticule with brisk movements. “Whatever’s happened, whatever’s driven you to this state, fix it. Before you lose something irreplaceable.”
After she left, Owen sat alone in his dining room allowing her words to echo in his mind.
He rose abruptly, his decision crystallizing with sudden clarity. The Dowager Duchess was right. It wasn’t too late to change course and choose courage over comfort.
He strode toward the morning room with words of apology and determination already forming on the tip of his tongue. He would tell Iris that he’d been a fool and that he wanted to fight for their family regardless of the risks. He would confess thatlosing them was infinitely worse than any legal battle they might face.
But the morning room was empty, as was the nursery upstairs. A quick inquiry revealed that Iris had taken Evie out for a visit with Grace.
Owen cursed his timing and the precious minutes he’d wasted on self-pity when he should have made amends.
The day passed with excruciating slowness. He attempted to work, only to end up staring at the same contracts for hours without comprehension. Every sound in the house made him hope for Iris’s return, but the afternoon stretched into evening without a sign of his family.
It was nearly sunset when Cranston finally arrived, disheveled and uneasy. He had sent the man out that morning with specific instructions to investigate the circumstances and the days leading up to Adele’s death, though he’d held little hope for useful information after so much time had passed. Owen received him in his study, noting the man’s obvious agitation.
“What have you learned?”
“More than you might like, Your Grace.” Cranston settled heavily into his chair. “That boarding house where the Frenchwoman died? She had visitors in her final days. One of them was the Duke of Richmond.”
Owen went very still. “Jasper visited Adele?”
“According to some of the cleaning staff, a gentleman matching his description came by three days before she died. Paid for her room for another week and left some money for medicine. Seemed very interested in her condition.”
“What kind of interest?”
“The kind that worried the landlord enough to remember details. Asked a lot of questions about whether she’d mentioned family, anyone who might come looking for her.” Cranston paused meaningfully. “Also asked about the child she’d supposedly given birth to.”
Owen’s blood turned to ice. If Jasper had known about Evie’s existence, if he’d connected her to Nicholas…
“There’s more, Your Grace. That solicitor, Holt? I did some digging into his background. He’s legitimate enough, but his recent clients include several business associates of the Duke of Richmond. The ones involved in shipping ventures and import licenses.”
The pieces fell into place with devastating clarity. Jasper hadn’t stumbled upon convenient relatives in France. He’d orchestrated the entire situation, using Adele’s death asan opportunity to remove the living evidence of Nicholas’s indiscretions.
“Where is Holt now?”
“That’s the concerning part. He left his hotel this morning—told the desk clerk that he had urgent business to conclude before leaving London tonight.”
Tonight. Owen’s chest tightened with sudden panic.
If Jasper intended to remove Evie permanently, if Holt was already en route to collect her…
“Saddle my horse. Immediately.”
“Your Grace?”
“Jasper. I need to find Jasper before he destroys what’s left of my family.”
Owen found his quarry at Richmond House in the elegant study where Nicholas had once planned their youthful adventures.
Jasper sat behind the massive oak desk as if he belonged there, reviewing papers with the satisfaction of a man whose plans were proceeding smoothly.
“Carridan. This is unexpected.” His smile was all sharp edges and calculated charm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
