Stewart stared after Briony, stunned and silent.

But Briony didn't look back. She turned away, walked briskly into the house, and closed the front door with a decisive thud, shutting him out completely.

He stood there, gazing at the closed door, grief clouding his eyes.

The Maynard family estate.

After escorting the four elders home, Maynard explained everything just as he and Briony had agreed. Unsurprisingly, his version of the story landed him exactly where he expected: kneeling in the family chapel as punishment.

When Clifford, the family patriarch, heard that it was his own grandson who had wronged a woman—leaving her with a child out of wedlock and the Maynard family's eldest grandson out in the world without a proper name his fury boiled over. He brought his cane down hard on Maynard's back.

Maynard endured the blow without a word.

Beatrice, ever the doting grandmother, scolded him too, but her words were softer, more for show than anything. She ordered him to the chapel for his penance, but she was really just trying to protect him from Clifford's wrath, worried the old man might lash out again.

So Maynard was sent to kneel in the chapel.

If anyone tried to plead for him,

sighed. Thirty-six years old, and he still couldn't bring his wife and kids home. If he had to kneel, so be it. They didn't feel

But Beatrice did.

quietly deliver some warm rolls and even slipped in a soft cushion

seven that evening, the chapel was

ancestors stared down from their portraits as Maynard, the family's wayward son, sat cross-legged on the cushion, back

looked almost

kept watch outside, making sure no one

roll, Maynard felt his phone buzz in his

Arching a brow, he swallowed the bite in his mouth before answering in his usual unhurried

a woman's cool, slightly mocking

you staged, I

laugh. "From your tone, it almost sounds like

hand holding his phone, the other resting lazily on his bent knee, still

today. How did that go?" Xenia's voice was laced with

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