Page 84 of The Sound of Seduction
“It means my place is here.” His voice was steady, his decision certain. Stan turned to Pippa. “You’ve mentioned connecting the house to Cloverdale has been difficult. Do you think… might I work out an arrangement to take it on?”
Pippa didn’t answer at first, merely dipping her head slowly, gracefully, an enigmatic smile tugging at her lips.
Nick’s brow creased. “Why the house next to Cloverdale?”
“Because I’ll need an embassy,” Stan said simply. “Father will sign the documents. I’ll remain in England as Transylvania’s ambassador.”
Alex straightened, his expression resolute, though his voice carried a quiet gravity. “Then we’ll serve our home in different ways. You here, me in Vienna. But it will be strange, Stan, not having you at my side.”
Stan met his brother’s gaze, his own steady and unwavering. “It will. But this is how we make a difference, Alex. Together, even across Europe. You’ll carry our name in Vienna, and I’ll do the same here. We’ll show the world what Transylvania stands for and that List shan’t strike down what’s good and right in the world.”
“We’ll stand against him.” Alex nodded slowly, his jaw firm. “For our family. For our friends. For our people.”
“And for each other,” Stan added, his voice low but certain. “We’ll always be brothers, Alex. No matter the distance.”
A faint smile touched Alex’s lips, though his eyes remained serious. “Then let’s make them proud. Together.”
“An ambassador of peace, justice, and fairness,” Felix added quietly.
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room, but it was the shared looks, the deep resonance of unspoken unity filling the air, that stayed with Stan. The battle ahead seemed endless, but tonight, in the flicker of lamplight surrounded by determined faces, he felt the faint flicker of hope.
It was a miracle that he’d found his purpose among the Doctors on Harley Street that would shine a light on the path ahead—a fellowship born not of duty but of choice. They would stand against List.
Together.
*
An hour later,Wendy remained by the hearth, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she glanced at Langley, who was kneeling beside Violet. The fear of losing his beloved wife and their unborn child transformed this man, usually so strong and tall, causing Wendy’s heart to shatter. His whispered words—soft and earnest—were meant only for his wife, yet Wendy couldn’t help but overhear fragments.
Langley finally turned toward her, standing with a weariness that seemed to age him. “Miss Folsham,” he said, the depth of his gratitude evident in his eyes, “without you, I… I don’t know what might have happened tonight. You saved my family. You saved me.”
Wendy’s chest tightened, but she curtsied slightly, the movement awkward under such solemn words. “I only did what anyone would if something was to be done.”
“Not anyone,” Langley murmured. He glanced at Violet sleeping and put a hand on her forehead, his expression darkening. “List and his Baroness—poisoning her—it’s despicable. He would see me without an heir, the title lost to the Crown. And with his scheming, blackmail, and criminal inclination, he’d have it placed neatly in his grasp.” His fists clenched. “Wherever he steps, trouble follows. I should have known it would come to my family someday.”
Wendy swallowed hard, the truth of Langley’s words clear in her mind. Trouble had been von List’s calling card since shefirst heard his name. Tonight was only further proof of how dangerous he was.
The door opened quietly, and Stan entered. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his coat carried under his arm and wet stained—he’d probably had a servant try to remove the stains after he held Violet when she tried to rid herself of the poison. He looked at Violet and Langley, his gaze somber before settling briefly on Wendy.
“How is she?” His voice was low, his usual commanding tone softened by grief.
Langley sighed. “Stable, for now. She had some chills earlier, but she’s better now thanks to you and Miss Folsham.”
“I didn’t do much.” Stan nodded, though the stiffness in his jaw betrayed no relief. He turned to Wendy. “And how are you?”
“I am well,” she said, even as her exhaustion lingered in every part of her body. “It is the Countess who needs your concern.”
He gave a short nod. “May I at least escort you home?”
The silence stretched as he took one last look at Violet. She exhaled shakily, a quiet melancholy settling over her as she stared at the flickering flames. The trouble wasn’t finished. Not yet. Not with List still at large.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
One week later…
The door tohis bedchamber closed with a quiet finality, the soft click resonating against the intimate glow of the oil lamp. Stan stood just inside the threshold, the scent of the room—a mix of fresh beeswax polish and the faint tang of linen—grounding him. Here, the burden of diplomacy and royal expectations loosened its vice grip. Tonight, it felt different. Tonight, it held Wendy.
“Please read this letter from my father,” Stan said and handed it to her.
