All Chapters of His Father's Bride : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

One moment I had been sitting beside Lord Rathcliffe’s bed watching the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and the next, darkness had pulled me under completely. Pale morning light spilled softly through the curtains, casting silver across the room.For a few blissful seconds, I forgot where I was. Then I looked up. And found Lord Rathcliffe watching me. I startled upright in the chair so quickly my neck protested painfully. “My lord—” “You look terrified,” he said weakly. His voice was rough from sleep, quieter than I had ever heard it before. Relief rushed through me so suddenly my eyes burned. “You are awake.” “Clearly.” Despite the dryness of the remark, there was little strength behind it. He looked exhausted, pale against the pillows, dark shadows beneath his eyes. I leaned forward immediately. “I shall call the doctor at once," I said, rising from my chair. “No," he said, stopping me in my tracks. “ But you collapsed.” “And yet I survived.” He glanced toward the

By evening, the house had descended into fear once more. The doctor had remained inside Lord Rathcliffe’s room for nearly an hour while the rest of us waited helplessly outside. Every servant who passed through the corridor wore the same grim expression, and even the children had fallen unusually silent. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. I stood near the bedroom doors twisting my hands together while Emma paced restlessly near the windows. “Why has he not come out yet?” she whispered shakily. I had no answer. At last, the door opened. The doctor stepped into the corridor looking exhausted. The moment I saw his face, dread settled heavily in my stomach. “My lord?” Emma asked immediately. The doctor removed his spectacles slowly before answering. “He has taken a turn for the worse.” Emma let out a broken sound beside me. I forced myself to remain steady. “What happened?” “His heart is weakening.” The doctor lowered his voice carefully. “I fear the strain of these

I waited outside Lord Rathcliffe’s room long after William entered. The corridor had fallen into silence again, swallowed by a heavy stillness that seemed to consume a household whenever illness settled over it. Candle flames trembled weakly in their brass holders, throwing restless shadows across the walls while rain whispered faintly against distant windows deeper within the manor. Somewhere belowstairs, a grandfather clock chimed softly, the sound strangely mournful in the darkness.Whatever conversation was happening behind those doors belonged to William and his father alone. Yet anxiety rooted me to the spot so completely that even breathing felt difficult.Part of me feared William would emerge angrier than before.I clasped my hands tightly together, trying to stop them trembling. My thoughts had become unbearable these past few days—fear tangled endlessly with guilt, grief, and exhaustion until I no longer knew which emotion consumed me most.Lord Rathcliffe was dying.Will

The gunshot shattered the night. For one suspended heartbeat, I did not understand what had happened. The sound seemed to split the storm itself apart, echoing violently through the gardens while rain crashed endlessly around us. My body locked in place from pure terror. I saw only the dark mouth of the pistol pointed toward me and Lady Penbury’s ruined expression behind it. Then suddenly someone collided with me. Hard. An arm wrapped around my waist as my feet slipped violently against the soaked stones. I cried out in shock as both of us crashed sideways onto the pathway beneath the rain. Another sound followed almost immediately. Not another gunshot. A gasp of pain. Male. “John!” My hands hit the ground painfully while John fell partially across me, shielding my body with his own. For one horrifying second my mind convinced me he had been shot through the chest. The world narrowed sharply around the sight of him bent over me beneath the rain. Then warm liqui

Morning arrived softly. For several long moments, I remained caught somewhere between sleep and waking, wrapped in warmth and the faint crackling sound of dying firewood nearby. Rain no longer battered the windows the way it had through most of the night. Instead, only a quiet drizzle whispered against the glass while pale gray light slowly filtered into the room. The manor itself still felt asleep. Heavy. Silent. My body felt strangely comfortable beneath the blankets. Too comfortable. Then awareness returned all at once. William’s room. My eyes flew open instantly. A sharp breath caught in my throat as I realized I was lying on my side beneath his blankets while one of his pillows rested beneath my cheek. Sometime during the night exhaustion must have overtaken me completely. Panic flared briefly through me. How had I fallen asleep here? I pushed myself upward quickly— And froze. William was awake already. He lay turned slightly toward me, one arm bent beneath his he