Annie welcomed the cool night air with relief as she passed through the tall glass doors leading to the mansion's terrace. She needed to get away, if only for a few minutes, from the curious looks and discreet whispers that had inevitably begun circulating through the grand ballroom. The music continued to reach her from inside, muffled by the distance, while a pleasant breeze gently stirred a few strands of her hair.
She slowly approached the stone balustrade and released a sigh she hadn't realized she was holding. That night was proving far more difficult than she had imagined. She had managed to preserve the dignity both her mother and Eleanor had asked her to maintain, but that didn't mean the pain had disappeared. Her heart continued to break silently inside her chest.
Her gaze drifted toward the dark silhouette of the hill rising beyond the Ashbournes' gardens. Even from that distance, the imposing figure of the abandoned old mansion could be distinguished. The passing decades had failed to strip it of the elegance of another era, though its neglect and the countless stories circulating about it gave it an almost ghostly appearance beneath the faint moonlight.
She had heard countless versions of that legend since she was a child.
Some claimed that Alaric Cavendish had been a cruel and ruthless man. Others insisted that he had been the victim of a terrible tragedy. But all the stories agreed on one thing: he had loved a woman with such absolute devotion that he was never able to recover from her loss. After she was murdered, the last Cavendish heir decided to end his own life within those ancient walls, condemning the mansion to become an abandoned place shrouded in mystery.
Perhaps that was why no one in Wrenford could look at it without remembering that tragic love story.
Annie placed both hands on the balustrade's cold stone without taking her eyes off the hill.
It seemed strange to her that she was thinking about Alaric Cavendish that very night. After all, she had never considered him anything more than a character from the village's dark legends.
And yet, she couldn't help wondering how a love could be so great that it would lead a man to choose death over a life without the woman he had chosen to love.
And then she thought of Lucian.
She didn't hold him responsible for the misfortune that had befallen his family, nor did she ignore the immense sacrifice he had chosen to make for those he loved. She understood the weight of that decision far better than she had been able to that morning. But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, one question continued to torment her.
Why hadn't he fought for them?
Lucian had confessed through tears that he loved her, and she had never doubted the sincerity of those words. But he had also accepted giving her up before even allowing her to share the burden of that decision.
Her fingers gently tightened around the balustrade's stone.
Perhaps it was unfair to compare him to a man who belonged to an ancient legend. Perhaps no one should love with an intensity capable of driving them to death. And yet, part of her heart couldn't help wondering whether true love wasn't precisely about fighting to remain beside the person one had chosen for as long as there was still any hope.
She turned her gaze back toward the silent mansion standing atop the hill.
How ironic that a man whose existence had become little more than a legend seemed to have fought more fiercely for a woman's love than many of the men still walking among the living.
“I knew I'd find you here.”
Lucian's voice pulled her from her thoughts. Annie slowly closed her eyes before turning toward him.
The faint moonlight cast delicate shadows across his face, and for the first time since she had arrived at the mansion, Annie could look at him away from the guests' eyes and Florence's presence. He looked as exhausted as she felt.
“You shouldn't be here,” Annie finally murmured.
Lucian offered a sad smile.
“Probably not.”
An uncomfortable silence settled between them once more. They had shared so much over the past few months that it felt strange to be like two strangers unable to find the right words.
“I heard what you said to Miss Florence,” he confessed after a few moments. “I have to admit, I've never felt so proud and so ashamed at the same time.”
Annie frowned slightly.
“Ashamed?”
“Yes. Proud of the woman you've become and ashamed of the man I've turned out to be.”
His words made Annie's heart contract painfully.
“Don't say that.”
Lucian let out a brief, bitter laugh and shook his head.
“Why shouldn't I say it? It's the truth, Annie. Tonight I watched you face alone the very thing I chose to run from.”
She turned her gaze toward the moonlit gardens.
“You chose your family.”
“I chose the easier path.”
His answer surprised her.
“The easier path?”
“Yes. I've told myself over and over that I did it for my mother, my father, and the family name I carry. And part of that is true. I love them too much to condemn them to losing everything. But I was afraid too.”
His voice dropped to barely a whisper as he continued.
“Afraid to face my father. Afraid to defy the Ashbournes. Afraid to discover that I wouldn't be able to protect you from everything that would have come afterward. I've tried to convince myself that I did the right thing, but that doesn't change the truth. I was a coward.”
Annie remained silent. It was the first time Lucian had spoken those words.
“You're not a coward.”
“I am, Annie. The man you deserve would have fought for you to the end.” His eyes sought hers with infinite sadness. “And I didn't.”
The pain reflected in his gaze was unbearably familiar. It was the same pain she had seen on the bench that morning.
“Does Miss Florence know about us?” Annie asked after a few seconds.
Lucian remained silent for a moment before answering.
“I'm not completely sure. She's never told me outright, but I suspect she knows—or at least has always suspected.”
“Since when?”
“I couldn't say for certain. Miss Florence has been in love with me for far too long. I think she realized there was someone else long before she knew your name.”
Annie understood then the true meaning behind the smile Florence had given her that night.
“That explains a lot.”
Lucian sighed.
“If I had known you'd end up paying the consequences of my decisions, I never would have approached you.”
His words made her gently shake her head.
“Don't say that. I'll never regret loving you.”
A faint smile appeared on Lucian's face.
“I'll never regret loving you either.”
Their eyes remained locked for several seconds.
“Not a single day has passed when I haven't thought about you, Annie. Every time I walked past the oak tree where we used to meet, every time I opened one of the books you lent me, or heard someone say your name in the village, I wondered what might have become of us if I had possessed a little more courage.”
She felt another knot forming in her throat.
“Then why didn't you come for me?”
“Because I'm not the man you deserve.”
“That's not for you to decide.”
“This time it is, because I was the one who made you this promise, and I was also the one who decided to break it.”
Lucian looked away for a few seconds before continuing:
“The man you dreamed of building a future with doesn't exist, Annie. That man would have taken your hand and left Wrenford with you if necessary. I stayed and accepted becoming another woman's fiancé.”
She felt tears threatening to escape her eyes again.
“And I still love you.” The confession escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“I know.” Lucian slowly closed his eyes. “And that's what makes all of this so painful.”
When he looked at her again, the distance between them seemed to have narrowed without either of them realizing it.
“I love you too, Annie. I think I will until my last breath.”
His words made time seem to stop around them. There was no lie in his voice. There never had been.
Lucian slowly raised a hand and brushed away a strand of hair that had escaped her simple updo with infinite tenderness. The gesture was so familiar that it hurt her.
“I wish I had been a better man for you.”
Annie felt her heart pounding in her chest as she sensed the warmth of Lucian's hand against her cheek. For a few moments, she completely forgot where they were. There were only the two of them once more: two young people who still loved each other with the same intensity as on the first day, and who had nevertheless arrived too late to change what their decisions seemed to have sealed.
Without realizing it, they both began to lean slowly toward each other. The distance between their faces grew smaller and smaller as the world around them seemed to dissolve into absolute silence. Yet at the precise moment Annie was about to close her eyes, a shiver ran through her entire body.
A sudden blast of icy wind swept across the terrace with such force that it made her pull slightly away from Lucian. The air seemed colder than a spring night should have allowed, and the lantern flames illuminating the gardens flickered uneasily for several seconds.
Annie brought a hand to her arms as she felt the cold seep through the delicate fabric of her dress.
“Did you feel that?” she asked in barely a whisper.
Lucian frowned slightly as he turned his gaze toward the gardens.
“Yes.”
There was something strange about the sensation. It wasn't merely the drop in temperature. It was an inexplicable unease, as if a silent presence had just settled around them.
The murmur coming from inside the mansion continued as normal, and yet Annie had the strange impression that time had stopped for a few moments.
Then, almost involuntarily, she looked up at the hill. Her breath stopped completely.
“Lucian...”
He immediately turned toward her when he heard the change in her voice.
“What is it?”
Annie couldn't answer at once. Her eyes remained fixed on a single point in the old mansion on the hill. One of its windows was lit. Her heart began pounding violently against her chest. It was impossible. The mansion had been abandoned for decades; no one in Wrenford dared approach it after dark, and there was no explanation for a light shining between those ancient walls.
And then she saw him. The motionless silhouette of a man stood beside the window, watching them from a distance. His figure was too dark to make out his features, but there was something deeply unsettling about the absolute stillness with which he remained there, as if he had been watching them long before they became aware of his presence.
Another shiver ran down Annie's spine. She didn't know how to explain it, but she was certain of one thing: that gaze was fixed on them.
“The window,” she murmured without looking away. “Lucian... there's someone there.”
Lucian followed the direction of her eyes. The light had disappeared, and with it, no trace of the mysterious stranger remained.
“Did you see him?” Annie asked, her heart still racing.
Lucian took several seconds to answer.
“I didn't see anything,” he replied without taking his eyes off the mansion. “Are you sure you saw something?”
Silence settled between them.
Annie felt her fingers clench tightly around the fabric of her dress. For some reason she couldn't understand, the unease she had felt moments earlier hadn't disappeared. It had only grown more intense, displacing the pain in her heart and giving way to a strange sensation she didn't know whether to call fear or a premonition.
“There you are.”
Florence's voice broke the disturbing silence that had settled over the terrace.
Annie and Lucian turned simultaneously toward the terrace entrance. Florence stood in the doorway with a pleasant smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
“I've been looking everywhere for you.”
She spoke with the courtesy expected of a society lady, as though she had no idea she had interrupted an intimate moment.
Lucian's expression tensed almost imperceptibly when he saw her there.
“Has something happened?” he asked.
“Nothing that wasn't meant to happen tonight,” Florence replied with a faint smile before turning her gaze toward him. “Your future father-in-law is about to make the official announcement of the engagement, and everyone is waiting for the evening affair's honorees to be present.”
Those words made Annie's heart contract painfully once more.
For a few moments, Florence allowed silence to settle among the three of them before speaking again.
“I'm afraid I have to steal a few more minutes of your time, Lucian.”
Though her tone remained pleasant, there was something in the way she said his name that left little room for refusal. It wasn't a request, but a subtle reminder of the place he now occupied at her side.
Lucian briefly turned his gaze toward Annie. There were so many things he wanted to say to her that he couldn't choose just one. His words died before they could leave his lips.
What could he say? That he was sorry to leave? That he still loved her? Annie already knew every one of those answers.
She gave him a faint, sorrow-laden smile before almost imperceptibly shaking her head.
Lucian felt a painful knot form in his throat.
For a moment, he was tempted to ignore everything and remain beside her for a few more minutes. But that possibility had ceased to belong to him the moment he accepted becoming Florence Ashbourne's fiancé.
“Forgive me, Annie.”
Those were the only words he managed to say.
“You don't have to apologize for the same wound anymore, Lucian.”
The sadness in her eyes made him understand that Annie no longer needed to hear another promise.
Florence remained respectfully silent as she watched the exchange of glances between them. She had waited too long for that night to feel threatened by a few words spoken on a mansion's terrace.
Lucian studied Annie's face for several more seconds, as if trying to engrave every one of her features in his memory before being forced to return to the ballroom.
Finally, he gave her one last look filled with tenderness and pain before accompanying Florence toward the glass doors.
Annie remained motionless, watching him walk away until his figure disappeared among the lights of the grand ballroom.
It was the second time she had watched him leave that day.
And she understood that both farewells had hurt her in exactly the same way.
Yet no matter how much she had wanted to surrender to the pain once more, she couldn't force the image of that lit window on the hill from her mind.
Her gaze slowly returned to the old mansion.
There was no longer any trace of the mysterious silhouette that had watched them moments earlier, but the disturbing sensation it had awakened in her remained unchanged.
Another shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the intensity with which that presence had seemed to watch them from a distance.
For some reason she couldn't understand, she had the strange impression that it hadn't been a figment of her imagination.
And as the music began announcing the start of the long-awaited official engagement announcement from inside the mansion, Annie couldn't decide what disturbed her more at that moment: the painful farewell from the man she loved, or the mysterious presence that had appeared in the window of a mansion abandoned for decades.
When Annie returned to the grand ballroom, all the guests were gathered before the imposing marble staircase dominating the room. The murmur of conversation had almost completely faded, replaced by the anticipation surrounding an event long awaited by Wrenford's high society.
Mr. Ashbourne stood at the center of the staircase with his wife, while Florence stood several steps behind them, holding Lucian's arm.
The young woman looked radiant beneath the warm light of the crystal chandeliers. Happiness shone through every one of her gestures, and the proud smile illuminating her face made it clear that the night was unfolding exactly as she had imagined.
Annie felt another stab of pain pierce her chest as she looked at them together.
Even so, her eyes didn't linger on Florence for long.
Almost involuntarily, they sought Lucian's face.
He wore the calm smile any guest would have expected to see on the face of a man about to announce his engagement. No one who didn't know him would have suspected the pain hidden behind that carefully constructed expression.
But Annie knew him.
She had learned to read every one of his silences.
And that smile was nothing more than a mask.
His eyes lacked the brightness that always appeared in them when he was truly happy, and the rigidity with which he kept his face serene was enough to reveal the immense effort he was making to fulfill what he considered his duty.
Annie felt that the pain filling her heart came not only from her own sorrow. It hurt to witness the sorrow of the man she still loved as well.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Ashbourne finally announced with a proud smile, “my wife and I would like to express our deepest gratitude for your presence on such an important night for our family.”
The patriarch's words were met by discreet nods of approval from the guests.
“This evening affair not only celebrates the birthday of my dear daughter Florence, but also the joy of officially announcing her engagement to the young Lucian Pembroke, son of the honorable Wrenford's judge.”
Applause quickly filled the grand ballroom.
“Our families' union is a source of immense joy to us, and we hope to have your blessings when the day comes for these two to join their lives in holy matrimony.”
Florence beamed at the guests before turning her gaze toward Lucian. The happiness in her eyes was impossible to conceal.
He returned the gesture with a gracious smile that only Annie seemed able to recognize as a painful pretense.
For a moment, their eyes met again through the crowd.
There was sadness in both their gazes, but also a silent farewell no words could have expressed.
Annie felt Eleanor gently take one of her hands in hers.
“There is something you don't know about this engagement,” she murmured discreetly, making sure no one else could hear her.
Annie turned slightly toward her friend.
“What is it?”
Eleanor cast a brief glance toward the hill visible through the ballroom's tall windows before answering:
“The old mansion on the hill has been part of the Ashbournes' inheritance for several decades.”
Those words surprised her.
“What?”
“There is a clause in the will that has been passed down through the family for generations. The property will be given to the heir who marries and chooses to live there.”
Annie involuntarily turned her gaze toward the dark silhouette outlined beyond the mansion's gardens.
“You mean...”
“That Florence and Lucian will have to move there after the wedding.”
Annie's heart seemed to stop for a moment.
“But that mansion has been abandoned since...”
“Decades. I know.”
Eleanor let out a faint sigh before continuing:
“No one understands why the Ashbournes have kept that clause for so long, but Mr. Ashbourne has never allowed it to be changed. The mansion is an inseparable part of the family inheritance.”
Annie remained silent.
The image of the mysterious figure she had seen moments earlier immediately returned to her thoughts. She could remember with absolute clarity the strange icy wind that had enveloped her and the unsettling sensation of being watched from a distance. It hadn't been her imagination; she was completely certain of that.
“Does Miss Florence know?”
“Of course. She's known about that condition for years. When I saw the documents in my father's study, I understood that she would have no choice. The mansion will pass into her hands when she marries, and she will have to establish her residence there with her husband. From what I've heard, the idea has never thrilled her, but the inheritance leaves her no alternative.”
It was ironic that, after giving up the love of his life to fulfill the duty imposed by his family name, fate seemed to be leading Lucian straight toward the old mansion of the man whose love story was still remembered throughout Wrenford.
And for some reason she couldn't explain, Annie had the strange premonition that the old legend was far from over.
Annie turned toward her friend in surprise.
“No one has lived there since then?”
“Not permanently. The village has considered it a cursed place for decades. There are too many stories about that property, and very few people even dare approach it after dark.”
Annie remained silent as Eleanor's words began to take on an entirely different meaning in her mind.
She slowly turned her gaze toward the ballroom's tall windows. From there, she could barely make out the dark silhouette of the old mansion standing atop the hill, silent and imposing beneath the faint moonlight.