A flutter of movement near the doorway caught her attention. Aunt Bertha hovered at the threshold of the drawing room, clutching her reticule with white-knuckled hands. Her round face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed, and she kept glancing between Vanessa and the nearest exit as though calculating the odds of escape.
"Oh dear," Helena murmured. "Your aunt looks rather like she is facing the gallows."
She did. Vanessa's heart clenched with sudden sympathy. Poor Aunt Bertha had been carrying the weight of her "terrible mistake" for weeks now, weeping into her knitting, apologising every time they crossed paths, convinced she had ruined her niece's life by accidentally sending those letters.
She had no idea she had actually saved it.
"Excuse me a moment," Vanessa said, handing Helena her champagne glass.
She crossed the room, weaving through clusters of well-wishers until she reached her aunt's side. Aunt Bertha saw her coming and immediately began to tremble.
"Vanessa, dear, I…I know I should not have come, but your mother insisted, and I thought perhaps…that is, I hoped…" Her voice cracked. "I am so dreadfully sorry. I know I have said it before, but I cannot stop thinking about what I did. Those letters were private, and I sent them without your permission, and now the Duke has read all your most intimate thoughts, and it is entirely my fault, and I would not blame you if you never spoke to me again…"
"Aunt Bertha." Vanessa took her aunt's trembling hands. "Please...."
"…because I know how mortifying it must be, knowing he has seen everything you wrote, all those feelings you never meant to share, and I have been so worried that he might use them against you somehow, or that he might think less of you, or…"
"Aunt Bertha." Vanessa squeezed her hands firmly. "Look at me."
Her aunt's watery eyes finally met hers.
"Do you see this?" Vanessa raised her left hand, where the emerald ring glinted in the candlelight. "I am betrothed to the Duke of Montehood. The man I have cherished and been devoted to for six years."
"Yes, I…I heard. Your mother told me." Aunt Bertha's lower lip wobbled. "But that does not change the fact that I…"
"You sent those letters. And because you sent them, Martin finally knew how I felt. And because he knew how I felt, he stopped keeping his distance. And because he stopped keeping his distance, we are now engaged to be married."
Aunt Bertha blinked. "I... what?"
"You did not ruin anything." Vanessa smiled, her eyes suddenly bright with tears of her own. "You fixed it. All those years of us both being too stubborn and too afraid to speak, you cut through all of it with one accidental postal delivery."
"But…but the letters…all those embarrassing things you wrote…"
"He read every word. And he still holds me in the highest of esteem anyway." Vanessa laughed, a little wetly. "His affections actually grew. He said the letters showed him who I really was, beneath all the polite smiles and careful conversations. He said they gave him hope."
Aunt Bertha's mouth opened and closed several times, like a fish suddenly discovering it could breathe air.
"So you are not... angry with me?"
"I was. For about five minutes." Vanessa pulled her aunt into a hug. "And then I realised that your mistake was the best thing that ever happened to me."
Aunt Bertha made a small, strangled sound against her shoulder, something between a sob and a laugh.
"Oh, my dear girl. My dear, dear girl." She pulled back, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. "I have been so wretched. You cannot imagine. I have barely been able to sleep, thinking about what I had done."
"Well, you can sleep now. Everything worked out exactly as it should."
"Because of me," Aunt Bertha said slowly, as though testing the words. "It worked out... because of me."
"Yes."
"Because I sent the letters."
"Yes."
"So in a way..." Aunt Bertha's expression underwent a remarkable transformation. The guilt melted away, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like dawning pride. "In a way, I am responsible for this union."
Vanessa suppressed a smile. "One could argue that, yes."
