“Will you remain at the house in Berkeley Square?” Lillian said.
“For the time being, though I shall send word should my circumstances change.”
“Please.” Fabian was not used to begging. “Should you see Estelle, inform me immediately.”
Vane gave a curt nod. “I should go. There is much to do.”
Lillian rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him. “While I know you must try to find Estelle, part of me wants you to stay.” She sniffed. “We have been through so much these last two years.”
Vane cradled her cheeks in his hands and wiped a tear away with his thumb. “You belong here, anyone can see that, though I advise you to refrain from swimming when the sea is rough, and the tide is high.”
Lillian gave a weak chuckle. “But I want you to be happy as I am.”
“We all have a path to follow. Mine deviates from yours, but that changes nothing between us.” He glanced briefly at Fabian. “Ravenscroft will care for you in my absence. You will have a family, a house filled with love. That is all I have ever wanted for you.”
Fabian watched them embrace, wondering if the day would ever come where he might say the same to his sister.
“Now, if I don’t get in that boat, Mackenzie will grow tired of waiting and is liable to swim to the shore.”
Lillian stepped back and sucked in a breath. “Then go now. We shall visit soon.”
Vane turned to Fabian. “Keep her safe. I hold you personally responsible for her welfare.”
“Of course.” Fabian inclined his head. He drew Lillian close as they stood and watched the rowboat move away from the pier.
“Do you think he will find her, Fabian?” Lillian wrapped her arms around his waist. “Do you think he will ever be happy?”
He wanted to believe both were possible. “The truth is I don’t know. But if marrying you has taught me anything, it’s that the mind is a powerful thing. Belief is everything.” Fabian only hoped he had enough to make up for Vane’s misgivings.
She looked up at him. “Do you say that because you had faith that we would weather the storm?”
“I say that because I called you and you came.”
She drew her brows together in confusion.
“Come,” he said. “Let me show you what I mean.”
Together, they ambled along the clifftop path, stopping only to watch the rowboat disappear into the distance. Once at the castle, he asked Lillian to wait for him while he rushed to the bedchamber and picked up a book. Then he took her hand and drew her up to the roof of the keep.
Despite the mild weather, they were so high the wind ruffled his hair. He flicked to the relevant page and handed her the book.
“You see,” he said. “I knew long ago we belonged together.”
Lillian scanned the relevant passage, her eyes growing wide.
“Read the last line aloud.” He wanted to hear the words fall from her lips.
“It says … each of us is a matching half of a human whole… each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”
“And what did I write?” He remembered the moment clearly, a cold, miserable night at sea when he sat alone in his cabin.
“You wrote my name.” She brought the book to her chest and hugged it. “You wrote Lillian Sandford.”
“I have stood up here many times and thought of you.”
She shook her head. “Why didn’t you say so the night you first brought me here?”
“Because I am a fool, a man once blinded by bitterness. Because for a moment I lost faith and feared rejection.” He reached up into her hair and pulled out the pins. The wind took the rich, ebony locks and blew them free. “I hope I have gone some way to make amends. I hope I have satisfied your quest for freedom.”