Mr. Colborne’s handwriting.
Her heart stuttered. She unfolded the gossip sheet first, her eyes scanning the printed columns until they landed on a passage near the bottom of the page.
The ton was abuzz this morning with reports that the Duke of H— was spotted in the early hours near the docks, his knuckles bloodied and his clothing in disarray. Sources confirm that His Grace has been frequenting a certain establishment known for its pugilistic entertainments. It seems the illustrious duke has been engaging in fisticuffs with common laborers, a most unseemly pastime for a man of his station.
Sophia stared at the words. Edward’s secret. His boxing. Exposed for all of London to see.
She reached for the smaller paper and unfolded it with trembling fingers.
Your Grace,
His Grace’s butler came to me before dawn with an unusual request. He asked that I publish the enclosed item in today’s edition, knowing full well the damage it would do to His Grace’s reputation. When I asked why, he said only that the duke wouldrather the ton discuss his proclivities than speculate about why his wife was seen in such an area at such an hour.
He did this to protect you. To protect Lady Fairhart.
I thought you should know.
Your servant,
Mr. Colborne
Sophia read the note twice. Three times. The words blurred as tears gathered in her eyes.
Edward had sacrificed his reputation to protect hers. He had exposed his own secret, invited ridicule and scandal upon himself, rather than let anyone connect her to Lady Fairhart.
A knock sounded at the door.
She knew, somehow, who it would be. Knew before she called out permission, before the handle turned, before the door swung open to reveal Edward standing on the threshold.
He looked as exhausted as she felt. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. His hair was disheveled, his cravat loosened, his coat absent. He looked like a man who had not slept, who had spent the hours since their return pacing and worrying and waiting.
“May I come in?” His voice emerged rough.
Sophia nodded. She set aside the gossip sheet and the note, making room for him on the edge of the bed.
He crossed the room but didn’t sit. Instead, he stood before her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, his jaw working as though he were wrestling with words that refused to cooperate.
“I wanted to speak with you.” He stopped. Started again. “I wanted to let you rest first. But I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Sophia held up the gossip sheet. “You did this?”
His eyes flickered to the paper, then back to her face. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because people saw us.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Near the docks. Near Mr. Colborne’s office. If anyone started asking questions, if they connected you to Lady Fairhart…” He shook his head. “I could not let that happen. Your secret was not mine to expose.”
“So, you exposed yours instead.” Sophia’s voice caught. “The boxing. Your reputation.”
“I don’t care about that.” His eyes held hers. “Let them talk. Let them mock the Duke of Heatherwell for brawling with dockworkers. It does not matter. Nothing matters except…” He faltered. “Except you.”
Sophia set down the gossip sheet. She waited, giving him space to find the words he needed.
Edward closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they glistened with something she had never seen there before. Vulnerability. Fear. Hope.
“I am sorry.” The words emerged broken, dragged from somewhere deep. “For everything. For pushing you away. For the things I said in the study. For convincing myself that keeping you at a distance was the right thing to do.”
He sank onto the edge of the bed, his shoulders bowing as though the weight of his confession was too heavy to bear standing.
