Chapter 281
Chapter 281
Marcus’s POV
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows in Murphy Estate's study, watching dawn bleed across the horizon. A night without sleep had painted faint bruises beneath my eyes, but exhaustion was the least of my concerns. The crystal decanter on my desk remained untouched—even cognac couldn't dull the edge of what I'd done.
"Sir, Ms. Shaw seemed very upset. Tomorrow's engagement ceremony..." Peter's voice drifted from behind me, carefully measured.
"Will proceed as scheduled," I replied, maintaining calm I didn't feel. My reflection in the window looked composed, but inside, doubt churned like acid.
"Should you perhaps go to Brown Manor?" Peter suggested, his tone delicate as walking on glass.
Finally, my facade cracked. "If I chase after her now, will she be even angrier?" The question escaped before I could stop it, vulnerability bleeding through my usual armor.
Peter cleared his throat. "Hard to say. Ms. Shaw isn't like other women. Some are easily placated, but Ms. Shaw... she looks difficult to appease. And she might not even want you to try."
I released a heavy sigh, the weight of the night pressing down on my shoulders. "Dawn's breaking. Make sure everything's prepared. Today's ceremony must proceed without incident."
"And Ms. Shaw?"
"I'll wait for her." The words tasted like prayer and promise combined. Only I knew how terrified I was that she wouldn't come.
---
By six o'clock, I'd showered and dressed, joining William in the estate's grand dining room. Morning light filtered through stained glass windows, casting rainbow fragments across silver cutlery and bone china. The old man looked pleased, unaware of the storm that had raged through the night.
"Finally, the day has arrived," William said, spreading marmalade on his toast with satisfaction. "Once you're married, my task is complete. When I meet your mother again, she won't have cause to scold me."
Something twisted in my chest. For the first time in memory, I reached for the porridge pot and served him first. The simple gesture surprised us both.
William chuckled. "Look at that—already different now that you're getting engaged." His weathered face grew contemplative. "You're a few years older than Annie. That child is strong-willed. Sometimes you'll need patience. Give her room to breathe."
"Annie loves me deeply," I countered, though the words sounded more like self-reassurance than declaration.
"I can see that," William nodded, his eyes knowing. "Afraid you'd misunderstand, she even brought that woman here for confrontation. Our Annie has a brilliant mind. She wasn't worried about your misunderstanding—she was protecting your dignity as a man."
His words melted something inside me, leaving me raw and exposed. Annie had indeed considered everything, protecting me even in her anger. Yet here I sat, terrified she might not appear.
---
By ten o'clock, the grand ballroom had transformed into a vision of white roses and crystal. Guests filled the space like expensive perfume, their chatter creating a symphony of anticipation. The Shaw family's absence hung in the air like a missing note in a familiar song.
Catherine appeared at my elbow, Caroline balanced on her hip. "Uncle Marcus, where's Anna? She's not still angry, is she?"
Layla's designer heels clicked anxiously across the marble. "I've called Elizabeth—no answer. Anna's phone is off. Should Peter check if there's been an accident?"
"There's no need for concern," I said, checking my watch for the hundredth time. "She'll arrive on schedule."
Anna’s POV
The hospital room felt smaller with each passing second, its sterile white walls pressing in like a vise. I stood near the door in my engagement dress—a vision of silk and lace that felt absurdly out of place among the medical equipment. Logan lay motionless on the bed, his eyes tracking my every movement with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
Doris Porter's voice cracked as fresh tears streamed down her face. "Since last night when he woke up, Logan hasn't said a single word. It's killing me." She turned to my mother with desperate eyes. "Elizabeth, Logan grew up under your watch too. You know better than anyone how he's always felt about Anna. Why doesn't Anna love him back?"
My chest tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. I can't give in. Not now.
"Anna, I'm begging you." Doris moved closer, her hands trembling. "Look at your Logan. He loves you so much. Can you really be so heartless to ignore him?" Her voice dropped to a broken whisper. "You know what? I found antidepressants in Logan's drawer. He's sick. He could really die."
The revelation hit me like a physical blow. Depression? My fingers curled against my dress, but I forced myself to remain still.
Elizabeth shifted beside me, her posture stiffening. "Doris, I understand you're upset, but—"
"Anna, are you really this cold-hearted?" Doris's grief morphed into accusation. "I've loved you like my own daughter, and this is how you repay me? Are you even human?"
Heat flushed through my cheeks, but I met her gaze steadily. "Doris, I'm getting engaged today. I'm sorry, but Mother and I need to leave."
Something dangerous flickered in Doris's eyes. She straightened, wiping her tears with deliberate precision. "Anna Shaw, are you absolutely determined to get engaged to Marcus Murphy today?"
"Yes." The word came out firmer than I felt.
"What if I asked you to cancel the engagement for Logan's sake? Would you agree?"
My heart hammered against my ribs. The weight of years—family dinners, holiday visits, childhood memories—pressed down on me. "I cannot agree."
"Fine." Her voice turned ice-cold. "If you don't care whether Logan lives or dies today and insist on getting engaged to Marcus Murphy, our families are through. Completely done."
The ultimatum hung in the air like a blade. Elizabeth stepped forward, her elegant frame radiating protective fury.
"That's not how it works. Can feelings be forced? Just because Logan loves Anna, must Anna reciprocate?" My mother's voice carried the authority of someone used to being obeyed. "If that's really what you think, then we have nothing more to say. But today is Annie's special day, and none of you will ruin it."
I glanced one last time at Logan, still silent on his hospital bed. His eyes never left mine, burning with something between accusation and longing. The sight twisted something deep in my chest—not love, but the ache of destroying something that had once been precious.
"Let's go, Mother," I whispered.