Chapter Ten
The first snow of winter blanketed Blackthorne Manor in pristine white, muffling the world beneath a soft silence. But inside the grand halls, hearts were far from still. The weight of Vincent Harrow's looming threat had cast a long shadow over Eveline and Nathaniel's newfound happiness.
Eveline stood by the drawing room window, her fingers tracing the frosted glass. She could see Nathaniel in the distance, walking the grounds with Thomas Hale, their breath rising in silver clouds as they spoke in low, urgent tones.
Miss Harper entered quietly, her face tinged with concern. "You are not sleeping," she observed gently.
Eveline offered a wan smile. "I fear it is difficult to find rest when one's heart is so burdened."
Miss Harper approached, taking Eveline's hand. "But you are not alone. We are all with you—each of us in our own way."
Their eyes met, and Eveline felt the comfort of friendship wrap around her like a shawl.
---
That afternoon brought an unexpected guest: Lord and Lady Weatherby, influential members of the London elite. They arrived unannounced, their carriage wheels crunching through the snow. Nathaniel's brow furrowed as he greeted them, Eveline at his side.
"What brings you to Blackthorne in this season?" Nathaniel inquired politely.
Lord Weatherby's sharp eyes darted around the entrance hall. "There are whispers, Blackthorne," he murmured. "Of scandal. Of danger. Some say your family's name is once again on trembling ground."
Eveline stiffened. "That is nonsense," she interjected calmly. "There is no danger that we cannot withstand."
Lady Weatherby smiled thinly. "I do hope so, my dear. Society can be... unforgiving."
Their visit was brief, but their veiled warnings lingered like smoke.
---
Meanwhile, Julian and Miss Harper's courtship blossomed quietly amidst the tension. One snowy evening, beneath a canopy of stars, Julian offered her a small silver locket. "A token," he murmured. "To remind you that when this is over, I intend to claim your heart fully."
Her eyes glistened as she fastened the locket around her neck. "You already have."
The warmth of their affection offered a fragile but precious light in the encroaching darkness.
---
At last, Thomas returned with news: Harrow's hidden estate had been located. A crumbling manor on the outskirts of a forgotten village. Nathaniel wasted no time.
"We end this," he declared.
Against Eveline's quiet protests, Nathaniel, Julian, Thomas, and a small cadre of loyal men set out at dawn. Eveline, her heart in knots, watched from the steps as the carriages vanished into the pale horizon.
---
The confrontation was swift and brutal. Harrow's men were caught off guard, but the man himself was nowhere to be found. Only a single chilling message was left scrawled across the wall in dark ink:
"Too late."
A carriage wheel had been hastily broken—signs of flight. Harrow had escaped once more.
---
Back at Blackthorne Manor, Eveline felt the cold hand of dread settle deeper within her chest. She turned the newly arrived letter over in her hands, reading the words again and again:
"The clock strikes soon. What was buried will rise."
Nathaniel returned late that night, weary and grim, and took Eveline into his arms without a word. In the silent hours before dawn, he whispered, "I will protect you. With my life, if I must."
And Eveline, tears glistening in her eyes, pressed her forehead to his. "And I will protect your heart."
But in the distance, the winds of fate howled.
And the reckoning drew ever closer.