After leaving Silverton, Beasley did something out of character—he went back to the old family estate on his own.
Normally, apart from the occasional holiday, he only went back when his grandmother specifically called and asked him to join for dinner. Even then, he’d show up just once in a while.
If he went home too often, his grandmother would switch between pestering him to hurry up and give her a grandchild with Willow, and finding ways to rope him into helping Uncle Addison with yet another business project.
Well—scratch that. Lately, she’d stopped harping on about babies with Willow. Now, she was urging him to just divorce Willow and find someone else.
In short, he didn’t like going home.
This time, Beasley hadn’t told anyone at the house he was coming. Nell, the housekeeper, was the first to spot him as he stepped inside. Her surprise quickly turned into delight. “Mr. Beasley! You’re back?”
She hurried over, took his coat before he could even shrug it off completely, and hung it on the rack by the door.
“Where’s my mother? Has she gone to bed?” Beasley loosened his tie and glanced upstairs as he walked further in.
“Not yet, sir,” Nell replied with a smile. “She just had some ginseng tea and is still up reading. But your grandparents have already turned in for the night, and your father’s out at a dinner meeting.”
Beasley nodded. “I’ll go up and see her.”
“Would you like me to prepare a late-night snack for you?” Nell asked quickly.
“No need.”
He was already halfway up the stairs, his long stride making quick work of them.
He stopped in front of his mother’s door and knocked gently.
“Mom, it’s me.”
A moment later, the door opened, and Dorothy’s gentle, graceful face appeared in the doorway.
They sat down on the sofa. Quiet, focused conversations like this between mother and son were almost unheard of.
Dorothy didn’t waste any time. “Did you discover something new?”
She had wanted to clear Willow’s name for years. Even if it was late, better late than never.
Beasley nodded. “The middle-aged couple who accidentally took my wine that night—they died in a car accident last year.”
Dorothy’s eyes widened in shock. “They died?”
“And in an accident?” she echoed, her shock clear.
“Yes.” Beasley nodded. “Mom, did anyone else know you sent me to the hotel that day to give Willow her birthday present?”
Dorothy shook her head. “I didn’t even tell your father. I thought, if you turned down Willa’s feelings, then the fewer people who knew, the easier it would be for her. If you accepted her, I could always tell your father later.”

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