CHAPTER 32

The east drawing room was a cozy space—pale green walls, plush settees, and tall windows overlooking the rose garden. Julian stood near the hearth, hands clasped behind his back. At her entrance, he turned, tension in his posture easing somewhat at the sight of her.

Vivienne closed the door softly. "You sent for me?"

He inclined his head. "I asked Mary if you had time. We need to talk privately." A flicker of wry amusement crossed his face. "I half expected Lucien to hover about, but he's apparently occupied with estate business. Good fortune for us."

Vivienne nodded, crossing the room. She withdrew the folded letter from her bodice. "I found this in Bernard's trunk." Without preamble, she handed it over.

Julian scanned the contents, his brows leaping upward. "A hawk crest, a letter from someone with the initials N.H. Telling Bernard to keep watch, sabotage Lucien, and exploit you." He blew out a breath. "This is big. Did you show it to Lucien?"

"Not yet," Vivienne said quietly. "I wanted your thoughts first. Could N.H. be a Hawke family member? Another branch? Or is it a forgery designed to stir suspicion?"

Julian angled the letter, tilting it in the light. "The crest seems genuine. Old style, perhaps from a minor branch or a disinherited relative. If so, we're dealing with an internal family feud. N.H.…Nicolas? Nathaniel? Some name in the Hawke lineage. I'll cross-reference genealogies in the War Office archives. They keep records of noble lines."

Vivienne swallowed. "Lucien must be told. This is proof that someone very close to his family line has orchestrated his downfall."

Julian hesitated, but then nodded. "Agreed. He might be suspicious of how you found it, though. We must tread carefully, ensure he sees we're not twisting evidence."

She exhaled. "We have little choice. This letter is the best lead we've had." Her gaze flickered to Julian's. "How is he—Lucien—doing? Have you spoken since last night?"

A shadow of regret passed over Julian's features. "Briefly. He's furious, wounded, but his sense of reason holds. I told him we found no official charges pending against him—meaning the frame was well-executed but not yet triggered. That at least calmed him."

Vivienne nodded. "He was always thorough in covering his tracks. That might have ironically shielded him from the sabotage."

Julian stepped closer, eyes gentle. "And you, are you faring all right? That blow to your head looked nasty."

She touched the bandage hidden by her hair. "It aches, but I'll live. More pressing is how to salvage the delicate truce. It's…painful, coexisting under the same roof with so much heartbreak. I can hardly look at Lucien without—" She caught herself, clearing her throat. "Without guilt."

Julian's voice softened. "I understand." He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "I'm sorry you bear the brunt of it. If there were a way to shield you—"

She squeezed his hand gently, cutting him off. "We're in this together. No shielding me now."

A knock interrupted them. They sprang apart as Lucien's voice sounded from beyond the door: "Vivienne, Julian—are you in there?"

Julian rolled his eyes at the timing. Vivienne called, "Yes, come in."

Lucien entered, scanning the room. His gaze flicked to the minimal gap between Julian and Vivienne. A brief flash of irritation crossed his expression, but he reined it in. "I was told you two were conferring. I hope about something relevant."

Vivienne steadied herself. "Yes, quite relevant." She gestured to Julian, who offered the letter to Lucien.

Lucien took it, reading quickly. His jaw clenched. "N.H. A Hawke crest. This can't be random." He set the letter aside on a small table. "I have a cousin…Nathaniel Hawke. We parted ways years ago—he lost a legal dispute over land inheritance. I suspected he harbored resentment, but…this is extreme."

Julian glanced at Vivienne. They had guessed as much. "Any reason he'd target you beyond the inheritance grudge?" Julian asked carefully.

Lucien exhaled. "He believed our branch's success overshadowed his, leaving him destitute. If he's been scheming behind the scenes, stirring illusions that I'm an arms-dealer or a traitor, it might be his form of twisted vengeance. And to use Vivienne's infiltration as a weapon…he must've learned of it somehow."

Vivienne's throat went dry. "So that's how he pitted us all against each other—Bernard as the inside man, me as the unwitting spy, Julian as the official sword of justice."

A grim silence fell, each absorbing the depth of this betrayal. Then Lucien pivoted, focusing on the next step. "We need to confirm Nathaniel's involvement. If we barge in accusing him without firm proof, he'll deny everything. And if he truly is dealing with foreign conspirators, we can't risk tipping him off prematurely."

Julian nodded. "Agreed. A discreet approach. Perhaps I can glean official records tying him to shipments or hush payments. Meanwhile, can you keep him close socially, see if he reveals anything?"

Lucien inclined his head, though tension radiated from him. "I'll send him an invitation—pretend I want to mend old rifts. If he's guilty, that might flush him out. But we must be prepared for violence or flight."

Vivienne swallowed. "In the meantime, I can search the Hawke archives here, look for any reference to Nathaniel's known associates. If he used your crest, there might be more leads in older family documents."

Lucien looked at her, eyes flicking between gratitude and lingering hurt. At last, he simply said, "Yes. Good idea."

They had a plan. A fragile alliance once again, but a necessary one. Vivienne's heart pounded with a strange mixture of relief and sorrow. This mission, once so straightforward in her mind, had become tangled with personal loyalties and the very real possibility that everyone could end up broken if they failed.

Lucien cleared his throat. "I'll dispatch a messenger to Nathaniel tonight. Let's see how he responds." He paused, gaze lowering to the letter. "Thank you…for bringing this to me," he added reluctantly, directed at both of them but especially Vivienne.

Her chest ached at the raw note in his voice. "I won't hide anything else from you," she promised quietly.

Lucien inclined his head in acceptance, though the shadow in his eyes said trust was not easily mended. Julian said nothing, but the tension in his stance lessened slightly. At least for now, they were aligned.

Lucien turned, as though to leave. But at the door, he paused, glancing back at them. "Let's…dine together this evening. The three of us. We can discuss any updates. And we should attempt some semblance of normalcy under this roof, if only for appearances."

Julian gave a short nod. "As you wish, Your Grace."

Vivienne managed a small smile. "I'll be there."

Lucien hesitated, then departed, leaving the letter behind. The click of the door echoed. Only once he was gone did Vivienne exhale the breath she'd been holding. She exchanged a look with Julian—a silent recognition that the road ahead remained treacherous, but they had at least found a common path to follow.

For now, that was enough.