Chapter 100

The moment Liam stepped into Blackwood Manor, maids immediately appeared with silver trays bearing tea and delicate pastries.

He settled into an armchair across from Eleanor, making polite conversation. Yet his attention kept drifting toward the arched doorway leading to the gardens.

Eleanor noticed his distraction immediately. "Liam, darling, is something troubling you? Are your men still waiting outside?"

"No, Mother. I dismissed them earlier." He forced his attention back, lifting the porcelain cup to his lips.

An exquisite floral aroma filled his senses. Liam paused mid-sip, savoring the unexpected flavor.

Eleanor smiled knowingly. "Do you approve? Evelyn selected this particular blend. It's quite rare - she insists the water temperature must be precisely seventy degrees Celsius to avoid bitterness."

Just hearing Evelyn's name made Liam's pulse quicken. He carefully set down the cup. "You two seem to be getting along well."

Eleanor sighed wistfully. "That girl has such a pure heart. Gentle yet determined, capable of mastering anything she sets her mind to. It's difficult to reconcile such innocence with the darkness in her past."

Liam stiffened, unwilling to revisit those painful memories. "Where is she now?"

"Trimming roses in the greenhouse. The blooms are particularly spectacular this season. I thought we might arrange some for the grand hall."

Liam drained his tea abruptly and stood. "I'll assist with the cuttings."

Eleanor's teacup clattered against its saucer. "Excuse me?"

Before she could process this unprecedented offer, Liam had already disappeared through the French doors.

Eleanor leaned back against the silk cushions, watching her son's retreating figure with bewilderment. Had she heard correctly? Liam volunteering for gardening?

Her battle-hardened son, who once killed an entire bed of orchids by "watering" them with whiskey, now wanted to arrange flowers? Had military life finally driven him mad?

In the greenhouse, golden sunlight streamed through the glass ceiling, illuminating rows of vibrant blossoms. The air hung heavy with their perfume.

A wrought-iron table stood in the corner, surrounded by wicker chairs and shaded by a large striped umbrella.

Evelyn sat beneath it, surrounded by freshly cut flowers. Her delicate fingers moved with precision as she trimmed stems and arranged them in crystal vases.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her heart stutter. She looked up, then immediately sprang to her feet when she recognized the imposing figure.

Liam entered with deliberate steps, his gaze sweeping across the floral displays while pointedly avoiding looking at Evelyn.

"Do you require something, General Blackwood?" Her voice trembled slightly.

He moved closer, examining the blooms. A large hand reached out to touch a perfect crimson rose. "Mother wants flowers for the hall."

Evelyn hastily resumed her work. "Just give me a moment. I'll finish these quickly."

As she worked, Liam finally allowed himself to study her.

Had she lost weight in the ten days since he'd last seen her? Were they not feeding her properly at the manor? Had someone been mistreating her?

He took the seat opposite her, stretching his long legs casually. His hand came down heavily on a cluster of delicate peonies.

Evelyn gasped and grabbed his wrist. "Please don't crush them!"

Liam seized the opportunity to capture her hand in his.

She tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. With clinical precision, he examined her palm, frowning at the faint scar where her wound had healed.

Evelyn's breath came in shallow gasps. "General Blackwood, you mustn't—"

"First it's 'General,' now 'General Blackwood,'" he interrupted coldly. "What's next? Will you start calling me 'Your Excellency'? Are you that determined to end our marriage?"