CHAPTER 34

The next two days flew by in a flurry of preparations. Under Lucien's direction, rooms were readied, extra staff brought in for the "small gathering" that would serve as a cover for Nathaniel's arrival. Julian spent hours reviewing historical family records, cross-referencing all mentions of Hawke lines. Vivienne assisted where she could—meeting with the housekeeper about menus, discreetly verifying staff loyalty, scanning the halls for any signs of leftover infiltration from Bernard's circle.

On the eve of Nathaniel's expected arrival, tension hummed like a live wire through the manor. Vivienne found it hard to breathe, anticipating the collision of secrets that might occur when Nathaniel stepped foot inside. Would he suspect their trap? Would he come armed?

Late that night, Vivienne wandered into the library, seeking a moment's respite. The flicker of a single lamp revealed Julian perched at a reading desk, poring over a worn genealogical tome. He glanced up, relief showing in his eyes. "I was about to turn in," he said softly. "But I found an intriguing reference to a Nicholas Hawke, disinherited around the same time as your father's downfall. Another possibility for N.H. though not as likely as Nathaniel. Could be a father or uncle, if we're dealing with multiple conspirators."

Vivienne approached, leaning to see the text. "So there might be two lines of the Hawke family with reason to hate Lucien. And we're only certain Nathaniel is the immediate threat." She sighed, massaging her temple. "I keep feeling we're steps behind whoever set this all in motion."

Julian rubbed her shoulder gently. "We'll know more once we meet Nathaniel face to face. If he's guilty, we'll find proof in his behavior. Or maybe we'll catch him in a slip."

She nodded, though anxiety churned. "And what then? If we corner him—will Lucien hand him over to the Crown? Or demand personal vengeance?"

Julian's lips thinned. "We can't let personal vendettas overshadow the bigger scheme. We must do what's right, not just what's…satisfying."

Vivienne ached for the precarious spot they were in. She changed the subject slightly. "Have you…spoken with Lucien today? He seemed quiet at dinner."

Julian closed the book, setting it aside. "We exchanged a few words, mostly logistical. He's burying himself in estate matters as usual. I suspect it's easier than confronting—well, us." He exhaled, glancing at her with sympathy. "I see the guilt in your eyes, Vivienne. He sees it too."

She swallowed. "Is it so obvious?"

A rueful smile touched Julian's mouth. "To those who know you, yes. But you shouldn't bear all the blame. We were both part of the deception."

Vivienne gave a trembling laugh. "Yet he feels I betrayed him more intimately. We built…something. Now it's scorched by half-truths."

Julian reached for her hand. "You can only show him sincerity going forward. Let your actions speak louder than regrets." He squeezed gently. "And remember, you're not alone."

She looked up at him, gratitude mixing with sorrow. For a moment, they stood close, the lamplight illuminating the raw honesty between them. Vivienne stepped nearer, compelled by the warmth of his presence. Julian stiffened slightly, glancing away with conflict. He cared for her, but the guilt of overshadowing Lucien weighed heavily, she knew.

A soft scuff of boots on the library's threshold made them snap apart. Lucien stood there, posture rigid. The tension in the air crackled. Had he overheard the last snippet of conversation?

He cleared his throat, gaze flicking from Julian's hand to Vivienne's face. "Am I interrupting?"

Vivienne bit her lip. "Not at all. We were just discussing the genealogical clues." She gestured to the open tome. "And your cousin's arrival tomorrow."

Lucien stepped forward, ignoring the loaded atmosphere. "Yes. That's what I came to speak of." He leveled a firm look at them. "I want both of you present in the reception hall when Nathaniel arrives. Let him see us united. It may unsettle him, or force his hand."

Julian nodded slowly. "That's bold. He might suspect a trap."

Lucien's jaw set. "I prefer to keep him guessing. If he's truly behind all this, seeing me with my… with both of you, unafraid, might rattle him."

Vivienne folded her hands nervously. "What role do you want me to play?" She dreaded the idea of being too center stage, given the potential for old rumors or revelations.

Lucien hesitated. "I want you at my side, as usual. Show him you remain loyal despite any friction. We'll keep the conversation polite. You—" he gestured to Julian, "—stand near, appearing as a friend or advisor. We watch him carefully for cracks."

She swallowed. "Understood."

Lucien's gaze lingered on her. In the hush, Vivienne felt the unspoken tension from earlier, heightened by the intimate library setting. Julian, too, shifted uncomfortably, aware of the emotional undercurrents.

Finally, Lucien spoke quietly, an almost weary note in his tone. "We can't go on like this indefinitely, three ghosts haunting each other's steps. But for now, let's do our duty." He paused, looking between them. "One day, we'll address the rest."

Vivienne's heart clenched at the longing in that statement—the rest, meaning the tangled feelings, the betrayals, the uncertain future. She whispered, "I hope so."

With that, Lucien nodded and turned on his heel, exiting as abruptly as he'd come. Julian exhaled a shaky breath once he was gone. "He's trying—this is just…immense."

She nodded numbly. "Yes. Let's be prepared tomorrow. The moment Nathaniel arrives, we must be ready for anything."

Julian touched her arm softly. "Get some rest, then. Big day ahead." He retrieved the genealogical book, tucking it under his arm. "I'll see if there's any last hint about Nathaniel's known associates. Goodnight."

Vivienne managed a faint smile as he left, leaving her alone in the library's silent gloom. She stood there a moment longer, gazing at the place where Lucien had hovered, then at the spot where Julian had offered comfort. Two men, both dear in different ways, and a confrontation with a cunning foe imminent.

She drew a steadying breath and turned down the lamp. No more half-measures, she resolved. Tomorrow, she would face the puppet master, stand with Lucien and Julian, and end this cycle of lies once and for all. If their fragile alliance could stand firm against the storm, perhaps there was hope yet—even for hearts battered by betrayal.