Their amorous antics in the carriage on the journey home went some way to calming Ross’ temper. Though it wasn’t anger that gripped him when he recalled the memory of Estelle creeping up on Lady Cornell while wielding the knife — it was fear.

Being inside Estelle’s warm body banished all irrational thoughts of losing the only thing that mattered. But as he could not keep her prisoner in his bed, he knew he had to get his erratic emotions under control.

After a day spent giving statements and answering Sir Malcolm’s questions until the magistrate was satisfied, Vane suggested it was time to put Fabian out of his misery, and Estelle agreed.

“You’re quiet,” Estelle said as they sat in his carriage rattling along the coastal road on the way to Branscombe in Devonshire. “You’ve hardly spoken since we stopped to change the horses in Weycroft. Have the events of the last week finally taken their toll?”

Vane had pushed thoughts of Mr Hungerford’s nefarious deeds from his mind. Cornell was dead, and his wife would hang for his murder. It should have brought an element of satisfaction — but it did not. So many lives destroyed, and for what?

Greed?

Obsession?

Certainly not love.

The suspicious part of his nature wondered whether Sir Malcolm wanted Lord Cornell to die. Five days had passed since the incident in the museum and there had been no mention of the jewel thefts in the broadsheets. If people were to learn that a lord stole from the Crown, it would only shake stability amongst the ranks. Now it was but a simple case of a marital disagreement escalating to murder.

Not that it mattered. Their part in it was over.

Vane glanced at the woman he loved with every fibre of his being. She was nervous. He could tell. The tears she’d shed upon leaving the Erstwhiles had long since dried, but her lips were drawn thin. She nibbled the inside of her cheek and fiddled with the hem on her jacket.

“I was just thinking about Fabian,” Vane said, hoping it would prompt Estelle to reveal her troubles. “Eight years is a long time. I know he will be waiting on the dock, eager for your arrival.”

“That is if he received your letter.”

Estelle had taken to inventing problems in her mind. Fabian would be away on a long voyage. The inclement weather would prevent them from crossing to the island even though there wasn’t a cloud in sight.

“Fabian received the letter,” he reassured her, “and we will be with them in a matter of hours.” The thought of seeing Lillian brought a warm glow to Vane’s chest.

“Does he look the same?” Estelle glanced out of the window at the calm sea stretching out to the horizon. “I keep picturing the young man with hope in his eyes and so much love in his heart.”

Vane could hear the silent words lingering within the comment. What she really wanted to know was if Fabian had been tainted by his experiences. Had grief stripped away all that was good and left him bitter, resentful.

“He looks every bit a pirate.” Vane chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. “His hair is far too long, and he exudes a devil-may-care attitude that frightens most men. But his eyes carry the same look of hope. His heart is still full of love.”

She smiled, and a contented sigh breezed from her lips. “I wonder if it will be awkward between us, strained even, if he might struggle to suppress his disappointment in me.”

Vane crossed the carriage and settled beside her. “Please stop worrying.” He took her in his arms and kissed away her fears. “You survived four years with a gang of smugglers. You can survive a reunion with a stubborn pirate.”

“I know,” she said cupping his cheek. “But this means so much to me. Once we are reunited, I can finally move beyond the past and embrace life. And I have missed him so much, Ross.”

“I understand.” He was close to his sister, too. But Estelle was wrong to think they had nothing else to fear.

Guilt surfaced, accompanied by a flicker of doubt. These uncomfortable sensations had nothing to do with her brother. Vane was confident Fabian would welcome Estelle as if the last eight years had never existed. But while the problems in London were behind them, there were a few matters in France that needed addressing.

“You’ve hardly slept these last few days,” Vane said stroking her hair in a slow soothing rhythm. “Close your eyes and I shall wake you when we reach Branscombe.”

She shrank down in the seat and huddled closer to him. “I shall try.”

* * *

They arrived in Branscombe at noon. Vane booked Wickett a room at the coaching inn so he could catch a few hours’ sleep. Fabian’s men were already waiting on the beach ready to ferry them across to the island.

“Remember, the sailors are somewhat unconventional,” Vane said as they walked across the shingle.

The Scot, Mackenzie, strode over and slapped Vane on the back. “Och, it’s good to see you’ve not lost that brooding expression. It’s a look that makes men quiver in their boots.”

“Most men, but not you, Mackenzie,” Vane said with a smirk. He wondered what Estelle made of the large red-haired fellow.

“When a man’s been swamped by giant waves, there’s not much that can frighten him after that. Och, and I’ve seen wind whip clothes off a man’s back.”

Estelle stiffened at Vane’s side. “I agree, Mr Mackenzie. There is nothing more terrifying than a storm at sea.”

Vane turned to Estelle. “That doesn’t stop Mackenzie diving into the water at any given opportunity.”

“Did your mother not tell you that the best way to deal with fears is to tackle them head-on?”

“I believe we ran into each other before, Mr Mackenzie,” Estelle said. “In Paris.”

“Aye, one look at my ginger beard and you raced away as fast as your legs could carry you.” Mackenzie bowed his head. “Miss Darcy, I cannot tell you how it warms my heart to know you’re well. There’ll be ale all round tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Thank you, Mr Mackenzie.”

“Come now.” The Scot took their luggage and ushered them towards the boat. “His lordship has been waiting on the dock all morning. His toes are probably frozen in his boots.”

“Could you just give us a moment alone before we depart?” Vane said. This would be their last opportunity to speak privately for some time.

“Aye,” Mackenzie said with a grin. “We’ll wait for you in the boat.”

“What is it?” Estelle turned to him and placed her hand on his chest. “Your heart is racing.”

Vane took her hand. “Do you remember when you came to Hanover Square, and I asked you if you loved me?”

A smile graced her lips. “How could I forget?”

“You didn’t ask how I felt and so I want to tell you now, before … well, before Fabian captures you and refuses to let you go.” Any trace of amusement in his voice was fleeting.

Estelle gazed deeply into his eyes. “Then let me reaffirm what I said. I love you, Ross. There is no one in this world for me but you.”

Vane swallowed past the lump in his throat. “You are the love of my life, Estelle. I love you more now than I ever have. You’re strong when you need to be, daring even when you shouldn’t be. You’re not afraid to show your vulnerability and I admire that.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Have I told you I love you?”

“Twice, I think.” Her beaming smile warmed his heart.

“Then never forget it.” Vane kissed her quickly on the lips and then gestured to the boat. “Fabian has lived for eight years thinking he would never see you again. Let us go and put an end to his torment.”

Vane helped her into the boat and they set off for Raven Island.

Mackenzie hummed a tune as he took to the oars. “From what I remember, my lord, your rowing skills would put any seafaring man to shame.”

Fighting with men in dark alleys had given him a tremendous amount of upper body strength. “At the time, we were rushing to rescue my sister,” Vane said. “Panic does that to a man.”

Estelle sat silently beside him, staring at the dot of land on the horizon. Her countenance grew more subdued with each stroke of the oars. When the island came into full view, she sighed.

“It looks beautiful here.”

Vane had been so enraged the day he’d first come to the island, he’d failed to notice the true magnificence of the landscape. The sun shone down upon hills of flourishing green vegetation. Gulls swooped in the sky. The water sparkled. The fresh, briny scent of the sea air calmed the mind.

“It truly is a haven away from the world.” He turned to Estelle and noticed a tear running down her cheek. Without saying a word, he simply held her hand.

“Not long until we reach the dock,” Mackenzie said. “Happen we’ll find the men hanging from the top-sail just to get a wee look at you.”

There were a handful of sailors on the dock. Amongst them Vane saw Fabian standing with his arm wrapped around Lillian, holding her close. Vane’s heart swelled at the sight of his sister. She looked so happy, so carefree, and for that he owed Fabian a debt so huge it could never be repaid.

They drew alongside the landing pier. Mackenzie threw a line and one sailor rushed forward, tied a knot and slipped it over the piling.

Vane climbed out onto the wooden walkway. He held out his hand and brought Estelle up to join him. For a few seconds, Fabian and Estelle just looked at each other and then she picked up her skirts and ran. Fabian took flight, too, the thud of his boots on the planks obliterating the squawks of the gulls.

Estelle jumped into her brother’s arms and he hugged her tightly. They both dropped to their knees, still hugging, and yet laughing at the same time.

While the pair held each other close, Vane met Lillian’s gaze. She smiled and hurried towards him, took his hands and squeezed.

“I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to see you.” She released one hand and touched his cheek tenderly. “I cannot tell you how much this means to Fabian.”

“It seems your husband was right all along.” And Vane was the blind fool who refused to listen.

“Love brings hope does it not?”

“Indeed.”

“How on earth did you find her?” Lillian’s eyes widened in her eagerness to hear the tale.

“I didn’t.” Vane couldn’t help but smile. Even Mr Joseph had struggled to locate her. “She found me. I would like to take the credit, but it was purely accidental.”

“Or perhaps Fate played a part,” Lillian said.

He didn’t know how things happened as they did. Occasionally, he wondered if one’s destiny was already decided. If all events, good and bad, were merely lessons in one’s development. Perhaps one couldn’t understand the lesson because it was part of an infinitely bigger picture.

“When Estelle left, I lost my faith in life, in love, in everything. So I’m inclined to think you’re right. I’ve lived without faith and I’ve learnt to trust in it again.”

Lillian searched his face. “You seem different. Have you and Estelle reconciled your differences?”

“We have.” Vane nodded. Oh, they had done so much more than that. “I love her, Lillian, and she feels the same way.”

Lillian gave a contented sigh. “It is what I have always known. It is what I have prayed for.”

Behind them Fabian took Estelle’s hand. He placed it in the crook of his arm and escorted her away from the dock to the path leading up to the castle.

Estelle glanced back over her shoulder and Vane’s heart lurched. The look she gave him conveyed the depth of her devotion. He smiled back and hoped she would understand what he had to do.

Mackenzie dabbed his eyes as he prepared to climb out of the small vessel. “Och, it’s a sight to behold. I can tell you that. The drink will flow tonight.”

“Wait.” Vane held up his hand to prevent Mackenzie from climbing up onto the landing pier. “Do not disembark yet.”

Lillian frowned. “Is something wrong?” She looked at Vane and then at the boat. “Why do you want Mackenzie to remain in the boat?”

Vane’s tongue grew thick in his mouth as he struggled to find the right words.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Lillian blurted.

“I’m afraid, I must.”

“Is it because of Estelle? If you love her why can’t you stay? Talk to me.”

“Lillian, I will if you stop bombarding me with questions. I have important business elsewhere. That is all.”

Lillian fell silent though her eyes flitted back and forth as though trying to make sense of it all. “Does Estelle know of these business plans?”

“No.” He reached into his coat pocket and handed Lillian a letter. “Will you give this to Estelle? Tell her I pray she understands. Tell her to wait for me.”

Lillian shook her head repeatedly. “But I don’t understand. Why can’t you stay and explain?” Two deep lines appeared between her brows.

Good God, he wanted nothing more than to spend a week in a castle with the woman he loved.

“Because Estelle needs time alone with Fabian without a distraction. And there is something I must do for her if she’s ever to be free of the nightmare she’s lived these last eight years.”

“Then leave tomorrow. Come up to the castle and dine with us. Have a good night’s rest before you embark on your journey.”

“Lillian, stop it. You’re only making it more difficult.”

Vane closed his eyes briefly.

One word from Estelle and he would never leave her side. They had a future together, years to spend living the life they’d dreamed. But she could not live in peace while fearing the smugglers. He could not permit their children to suffer for someone else’s mistake.

“You know Estelle will beg me not to go,” he continued. “You know she will insist that my reasons don’t matter. But our father was to blame for what happened to her and I will at least attempt to put it right.”

Vane took Lillian by the arms and kissed her on the cheek before she said something to change his mind or questioned him about the past.

“Why must you always be so stubborn? Why must you feel as though you’re to blame for those things beyond your control?” She sucked in a breath. “What happened to me was not your fault. What happened to Estelle was not your fault, either. Stop blaming yourself and be happy.”

Vane stepped away. “If you care for me at all, you will support me in this.”

“Support you? I will stand guard at your back until the day I die.”

“Then let me go. And promise me you will reassure Estelle that I am doing this for the right reasons.”

Silence ensued.

Lillian sighed. It was the sound of surrender.

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Then promise me you’ll take care. Promise me you will return to us soon.”

“I swear it.” Vane kissed her on the temple, then pulled away and climbed back into the boat. “Can you take me back to Branscombe, Mackenzie?”

“Aye, my lord,” Mackenzie said. The sorrow in the Scot’s voice was nothing to that in Vane’s heart. “Happen I need the exercise if I’m ever to outdo you with the oars.”

Vane did not look at Lillian as the boat moved away from the pier. He knew she watched him, knew that he had left her with an unbearable task and it was wrong of him. To distract his mind, he took up the spare oars and helped Mackenzie row.

“Och, there’s no need to offer assistance,” Mackenzie said. “I once rowed the length of the River Tay without even stopping to drain the dragon. Not as fast as you’d do it mind.”

Vane chuckled. Mackenzie had a way of bringing a man out of the doldrums.

“You’re welcome to come with me to France,” Vane said, pulling on the oars and propelling them through the water.

“Had you told me earlier I might have run it past his lordship.” Mackenzie stared at him for a moment. “Not that I’ve taken to prying into other people’s affairs,” he said changing the subject, “but I admire what you’re doing.”

“I imagine you’re the only one who does.”

“Have no fear. The lass will understand. I knew the moment you stormed into the castle with a pair of duelling pistols that you were a man who followed his heart no matter the cost.”

“I’m not entirely sure whether I’m following my heart or my conscience.”

“If you’re doing it for the lass, then it’s your heart for sure.”

Vane nodded. “I’ve not had an opportunity to thank you.”

Mackenzie chuckled. “We’re not on dry land yet. I may still dive overboard and take a dip if the urge takes me.”

“I mean for having the sense to notice that the woman in Paris bore a striking resemblance to Miss Darcy. Had you pushed it from your mind we would not be here today.”

Fate again, Vane thought.

“His lordship always brought her picture out whenever his mind was hazy with drink. And a good job he did, too. The lass’ image is ingrained in my memory.”

“Then we’ll drink to that when I return. Make sure the men save at least one cask of ale for me.”

Mackenzie shook his head. “For you, I’d promise most things, but I cannot promise that.”

* * *

“What made you want to purchase a castle?” Estelle gripped her brother’s hand as he led her through the bailey and into the great hall. She stared up at the array of weapons on the wall, at the long table stretching the length of the dais. “I can’t help but feel as though I have been transported back in time.”

“It suits me to live here with the men,” Fabian said. “And I cannot abide the hypocrisy of London Society.” He sighed. “I’m grateful Lillian loves it here, too.”

Estelle glanced back over her shoulder, wondering when Ross and Lillian would appear. She supposed they had plenty to discuss. At some point he would have to tell her about the depth of their father’s betrayal.

“Ross said you married for love. I cannot tell you how happy I am for you, Fabian.”

“Lillian is a remarkable woman. She is everything I ever wanted.” Fabian brought Estelle’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You cannot know how it warms my heart to know you’re alive and well. After learning of the sighting from Mackenzie I had to search for you. I still have men in France.”

“It was wrong of me to stay away.” There were so many things to tell him. No doubt he had many questions of his own. “We must find somewhere quiet where we can sit and I can tell you all that has occurred these last eight years.”

Having told Ross everything about her time away, telling Fabian would prove somewhat easier. She glanced back over her shoulder again, looking for the man she loved with all her heart.

“Shall we eat first?” Fabian said. “You must be famished after the long journey.”

“We stopped numerous times en route. And Mrs Erstwhile prepared a basket and we’ve been nibbling on the contents since we left.” Oh, how she wished the Erstwhiles were here, to meet her brother, to see the castle, to give their support.

“So, you’re familiar with Vane’s staff?” There was another question hidden behind Fabian’s words. Surely he knew that it was too late to worry about her virtue or reputation.

“The Erstwhiles own an apothecary shop and I worked as their assistant.”

“You worked for them?” He turned to her and cupped her cheek. “Come, perhaps you should explain everything now. For I fear the rest of the day will be spent with me besieging you with questions.”

Fabian led her up to the top of the keep. The weather was warm, the sky clear and she could see the surrounding heathland, could even make out a small boat in the distance.

They remained up there for three hours.

Estelle told him everything about her time with the smugglers, about Faucheux’s threats to find her, even about her terrible time at the hands of Philipe Robard.

“You’re telling me this Hungerford fellow drugged you, and that if Vane hadn’t arrived in time you would be living with a lunatic in Bath?”

“Yes,” she said, aware that her poor brother suffered greatly from hearing her stories because he’d not been there to help her. “But must you call him that?”

“Forgive me, Estelle, but any man who attempts to abduct a woman is most definitely not of sound mind.”

Estelle sighed. “I am not speaking about Mr Hungerford. I am speaking about Ross.”

Fabian frowned. “You don’t like the name Vane?”

“It implies a weakness of character that is far removed from the truth.”

Fabian narrowed his gaze and studied her for a moment. “You still love him.”

“Oh, yes.” Estelle put her hand over her heart. “More than ever.”

“Does he feel the same way?”

“He does,” she said confidently.

“Then I must hope he will do right by you, despite all that has occurred.” Fabian came to his feet and gestured to a point in the distance. “There’s a small church on the island. You can marry there if you both so wish.”

How easily her brother skimmed past all the trauma and scandal to concentrate only on her future. But how could she ever be accepted as the Marchioness of Trevane?

“And you think it is possible for a lady like me to marry a marquess?”

He looked at her and smiled. “I think it is possible for a lady like you to do whatever her heart desires.”

Estelle came to her feet and hugged him. His biased comment still gave her hope. “Oh, I have missed you so.”

“I would have never stopped looking for you.”

“I know.”

He stepped back. “Let’s go and find Lillian and Trevane. They must have grown tired waiting for us to return. And then I can take you on a tour of the island.”

Estelle nodded, though hoped she would have some time alone with Ross before they headed out on an adventure.

“And then you will tell me where I might find Philipe Robard, and Faucheux,” Fabian said.

Oh, heavens, Fabian was as determined as Ross when it came to avenging a lady’s ruined reputation.

“Why? What will you do?”

“Exactly what you think I might do.”

“It’s all forgotten now, and I want to keep it that way.” At least for the time being. Dread the day Faucheux ever came looking for her. But with Ross at her side she could cope with anything.

“I shall discuss the matter with Trevane.” Fabian took her hand and helped her descend the narrow flight of stairs leading down to the first floor. They eventually found Lillian reading in the drawing room: an intimate space with oak-panelled walls and a huge stone hearth.

Lillian stood as they entered. She smiled weakly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to welcome you earlier.” With her book in her hand, Lillian crossed the room to greet them. “I know you both had so much to talk about.”

“It’s lovely to see you, Lillian. One way or another, I believe we were destined to be sisters.” Estelle glanced at the empty sofa wondering what had happened to Ross.

“Indeed, we were.”

“Where’s Lord Trevane?” Fabian said with a grin. “In case you’re wondering, Estelle prefers I use his full title.”

Lillian pursed her lips, distress evident in her eyes. She opened her book, removed a letter and handed it to Estelle. “This is for you. My brother told me to tell you that he loves you and asks you to be patient and wait for him.”

“Wait for him?” Estelle felt the blood drain from her face. She gripped the letter. “What do you mean?” She glanced behind her. “Where is he?”

Lillian shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. She looked at Fabian. “He has returned to Branscombe.”

“Branscombe?” Estelle shook her head. Perhaps he’d forgotten something. But the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach said otherwise. “Then he is coming back?”

“Of course,” Lillian said. “He told Mackenzie he would return as soon as he’s done what he needs to do in … in France.”

“France!” Estelle’s world swayed. She felt nauseous. Dizzy. It was as though sharp talons pierced her chest and gripped her heart ready to squeeze the life from it. “France?” she whispered looking down at the letter in her hand. A tear dropped onto the paper. “Why?”

“I think you know,” Lillian said softly.

Fabian put his hand on Estelle’s shoulder. “After what I have just heard, it is what any man who cares about you would do. It is a good sign. A sign of his lasting devotion.”

“No!” She swung around and with one hand grabbed her brother by his shirt and shook him. “Fetch a boat. Bring him back.”

Fabian covered her hand with his own. “He loves you, Estelle. He will return. But he is worldly enough to know that you cannot live happily in fear. He is honourable enough to want to seek vengeance on those who have hurt you.”

“No. The past doesn’t matter. He knows that.” Oh, where was Mr Erstwhile when she needed him? Estelle stepped away and hurried to the door.

“Wait!” Fabian cried. “Where are you going?”

“To find Mackenzie. To get a boat. To bring him back.”

Fabian grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against his chest. “He will return. You must wait for him as he asked you to do. The time will pass quickly. I promise you.”

No!

Estelle crumpled to her knees and Fabian followed. “I lost him once, Fabian. I cannot lose him again.”

“I understand.”

They remained there for a few minutes until she found the strength to stand. Lillian took her hand and led her to the bedchamber allocated for the duration of her stay. Of course, Fabian presumed the arrangement would be permanent, but Estelle’s life was with Ross wherever that might be.

Lillian reassured her of Ross’ affections and then left her alone to read the letter. Love poured from the page, dripped from every word. She was his life, his love, his everything, he said. But he could not let her live under a cloud of fear for the rest of her days.

Wait for me. She read those words repeatedly. Marry me.

Estelle slept clutching the letter. Every day she ventured to the top of the keep and stared out at sea searching for his boat, wondering when he would come home to her.