Chapter 308

"Grandfather, how have you been these past few days? You must tell me if you feel unwell."

Nathan knelt on one knee in front of Reginald’s wheelchair, his clear, youthful eyes filled with concern. "Why don’t you come stay with me at Cliffside Manor? Agnes and I can take good care of you."

"Why would I return to that prison?" Reginald scoffed, his expression darkening at the thought of Leonard and his foolish wife. "I’d die faster if I had to see your father and that wretched Penelope every day."

Just the mention of her name made his head throb. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I swore I wouldn’t set foot in Cliffside Manor again until Leonard divorces her. Besides, I prefer it here. This place is my fountain of youth—out of sight, out of mind!"

Nathan’s lips curled into a helpless smile. His grandfather’s stubbornness was legendary, and there was no arguing with him once his mind was made up.

"This villa was Master Reginald and Madam Margaret’s love nest," Marcus explained with a knowing smile. "He stays here because it still carries traces of her presence. That’s why he refuses to leave."

"Marcus, perhaps I truly am growing senile," Reginald murmured, his gaze drifting toward the garden with a wistful expression. "Sometimes, I see things. Once, I even thought I saw Margaret singing among the flowers. When I approached, she turned and smiled at me."

"You’re not senile, Master Reginald," Marcus said gently. "Madam Margaret must have felt how deeply you’ve missed her all these years. She couldn’t bear to leave you either, so she stays by your side."

Nathan’s throat tightened. He lowered his head, guilt gnawing at him.

He had always known how deeply his grandparents had loved each other. Their marriage had been his ideal—a bond so strong and beautiful that he had chased after it desperately with Victoria.

But along the way, he had ignored the signs. Their personalities clashed. Their conversations were shallow. More often than not, he was the one bending over backward to please her.

Yet, he had been too afraid to let go, terrified that all his efforts would be wasted if he admitted the truth.

In the end, he had failed spectacularly—and worse, he had hurt someone who had truly cared for him.

He had been a fool.

"I’m sorry, Grandfather." Nathan’s long lashes trembled, his voice barely above a whisper.

Reginald studied his grandson—proud, brilliant, and now weighed down by regret. He sighed heavily and patted Nathan’s shoulder. "You’re as stubborn as I was at your age. But I was luckier—I loved the right person. You weren’t as fortunate."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "But at least you stepped back before making the same mistake twice. That’s worth celebrating."

"Grandfather, I—"

"No, the fault is mine too," Reginald interrupted firmly. "I shouldn’t have forced you to be with Evelyn. From now on, I won’t interfere. It’s unfair to her to be tied to someone who doesn’t love her."

His expression turned serious as he turned to Marcus. "Tomorrow, compile a list of eligible bachelors for me. I want to vet them thoroughly so I can introduce them to Evelyn when she’s ready. Divorced or not, I won’t let her future be dictated by it. Otherwise, I’ll never rest in peace!"

"Ah—yes, sir," Marcus stammered, momentarily stunned.

Nathan’s fingers clenched involuntarily. The memory of Alexander Whitmore presenting Evelyn with roses under the sunset flashed through his mind.

A sharp, sour pang twisted in his chest.

After speaking with Reginald a while longer, Nathan left the villa.

"Master Reginald," Marcus ventured cautiously once they were alone, "you’ve always wanted Young Master Nathan to reconcile with Ms. Carter. Why arrange introductions for her now?"

A sly grin spread across Reginald’s face. "I know my grandson better than anyone. If I push him toward Evelyn, he’ll only resist harder."

His eyes gleamed with cunning. "Men are possessive by nature. We thrive on challenge. Only when he feels threatened will he finally admit what he truly wants."