“That man had no right,” he said, each word precise. “No right to touch you, no right to speak to you as if your ruin gave him permission.”
Anastasia’s breath caught.
“And you should never have been made to carry the consequences of his depravity,” Benedict continued, voice tightening. “Or that baron’s. Or anyone else’s.”
For a moment, something almost like pain flashed across his face before he locked it away.
“I cannot change what happened,” he said, quieter now, as if the truth tasted unfamiliar. “But I can change what happens next.”
Anastasia’s throat worked. “And… what happens next?” she managed.
“It does not matter what your aunt did or why. We will sort everything out. We will face whatever scandal comes our way together. I am no longer afraid as long as you are by my side. You are now my home, and even my only rule. The inheritance and title are nothing to me. I rushed to see you, not to marry you off to someone else. No, Anastasia. I want to marry you.”
There were no words that followed, only a searing kiss that served as a promise of all the good things to come.
Epilogue
The Dowager Duchess of Frostmore sat in the drawing room. However, this time, she chose a shadowed corner. Anastasia noticed that she looked smaller and more fragile than usual, and for good reason. At first, the silence hung heavy in the room, but she knew that revelations would follow it.
“We know the truth,” Benedict declared, not mincing any words. “Anastasia told me everything. You pushed Uncle Morton down the stairs. You also forced her to keep her silence in exchange for securing her future.”
“Benedict!” Anastasia protested.
Nobody forced her; that was what she was certain of. If she did not want to be hushed, nobody could tell her to.
“I also discovered that you paid Mr. Deacon, the solicitor, to read a forged and fabricated will, making me believe that Anastasia would have to marry for me to inherit.”
“You are absolutely right about every detail, Benedict,” the dowager replied, bowing her head.
It was the first time Anastasia had ever seen her aunt looking so humbled. She was not quite afraid, but she seemed prepared for punishment. She supposed one must be if they were willing to make that push.
When she lifted her eyes, Aunt Hyacinth looked fierce once more. Yes, there were hints of tears, but she was not going to let them fall without a fight.
“Your uncle was a beast, Benedict. The way he went about it was subtle, too. Nobody knew what he was like beneath the steady demeanor. He was obsessed with having an heir who could follow in his footsteps. However, everything else was redeemable, at least in my eyes, until I saw him try to seduce Anastasia.”
“He thought that just because my reputation was compromised, I was easy,” Anastasia admitted, shuddering at the memory of the late duke’s advances.
“I knew him well enough to recognize the glint in his eyes whenever he looked at you. I could not let him ruin you,” the dowager said, her voice down to a ragged whisper, and yet, the rage was still there.
Quieter and tempered, but still present.
“I pushed him and watched him fall. Most would say it was murder, but I believe it to be self-defense. I will defend myself and my niece in every way I can,” she admitted, her eyes flashing. “I had to secure Anastasia. She had already suffered enough. The incident was unplanned. It just happened. Rage took over me when I saw him for what he really was. However, the forgery was planned. I was desperate. I knew that my niece’s reputation would work against her. What I needed was a way tomake you want her close. You could have just banished her if not for her link to your inheritance.”
There were a few beats of silence before Benedict took a deep breath and said, “It did not take long for me to want to keep her, not because of the inheritance.”
“You were willing to have me married to any lord who would take me,” Anastasia reminded him.
There was no accusation or bitterness in her tone, simply a statement of facts. She was in terrible anguish at the thought that he would choose her merely because she was a means to an end. But now, she knew better. All that had happened before no longer mattered, at least not as much as their feelings for each other.
“You made a terrible mistake,” Benedict said, his eyes clear and unwavering. “But know this. You protected Anastasia when she needed it most. When I was not yet in her life to do it for her. I owe you for that and will not go to the authorities.”
The dowager exhaled audibly. She closed her eyes and placed a hand on her chest, looking every bit as relieved.
“And for the forgery?” she asked, her eyes still closed.
“It does not matter,” Benedict said dismissively, waving a hand. “Nobody was hurt, and all’s well that ends well in that particular matter, although I may now be looking at Mr. Deacon with some suspicion.”
The dowager wept with relief. Benedict held out a hand to cut her off gently.
