She shook her head. "Do you know what hurts most?" He remained silent. "He never told me." A tear finally escaped, despite her efforts. "He let me carry that uncertainty alone."
The confession shattered something inside Nathaniel. More than the corruption, more than the deception, this was the real wound: not money, not records—trust. A daughter abandoned emotionally by the people who should have protected her.
Without thinking, Nathaniel stepped closer. "Look at me." Genevieve hesitated, then obeyed. "None of this reflects your worth." His voice remained steady. "Not their choices, not their failures."
Her eyes searched his. "You believe that?"
"Absolutely."
For a long moment, neither moved. The space between them seemed to disappear: every conversation, every shared secret, every moment from the past several weeks gathered quietly around them. Genevieve looked at him differently now: not as a friend, not merely as an ally—something deeper, something neither could ignore much longer.
Then footsteps interrupted the moment. Charles entered the conservatory, concern immediately crossing his face. "Are you all right?"
Genevieve stepped back slightly; the fragile intimacy vanished. Nathaniel hated the interruption and immediately felt guilty for it: Charles deserved better than becoming the target of silent resentment.
"I will be," Genevieve answered.
Charles nodded gently. "Good." He hesitated. "Because there is something else you need to know."
Genevieve frowned. "What happened?"
Charles held up a folded letter. "This arrived from London."
Nathaniel's stomach tightened instantly.
Charles continued: "It concerns the Duke of Ashcroft."
Genevieve looked confused. "The Duke?"
Charles nodded. "Apparently, he has been conducting a private investigation into the bridge collapse."
Nathaniel felt every muscle in his body go still.
"Interesting," Genevieve said quietly.
"There is more." Charles unfolded the letter. "According to this, he traveled to Carter Estate several months ago."
Silence filled the conservatory. Nathaniel could practically hear his own heartbeat.
Genevieve's expression sharpened. "Several months ago?"
"Yes." Charles looked down at the page. "The strange part is that nobody knows where he went afterward."
Genevieve slowly turned toward Nathaniel—not because she suspected anything, not yet, simply because he happened to be standing nearby. Yet the timing felt almost unbearable. Nathaniel maintained a neutral expression through sheer force of will.