"What has happened?"
He stepped closer, gently resting one hand over hers. "The appeal has been rejected. Lord Pemberley shall remain imprisoned."
It took a heartbeat for the words to settle. Then relief swept through her so suddenly she almost laughed. "He truly is going to prison?"
Damien nodded. "He shall serve his sentence."
The weight she had carried for weeks seemed to dissolve all at once, and she released a slow breath she had not realized she had been holding. "Thank Heaven."
Her shoulders relaxed for what felt like the first time since the dreadful attack upon the carriage.
She glanced towards Damien. "I almost expected another twist," she said, letting out a breath that trembled only slightly as she looked up at him.
"So did I," he admitted, his mouth tightening for a brief moment before he gave a small, rueful shake of his head. "But there shall not be one," he said, his hand steady over hers.
"No," she agreed, her shoulders easing as the truth of it settled over her.
His thumb lightly brushed against her gloved fingers, a quiet, reassuring caress. "It is over," he said softly.
She smiled up at him, warmth returning to her face. "It truly is."
For a brief moment the music, the guests, and the conversation around them seemed to disappear, leaving only Damien and the quiet certainty that they had survived every trial placed before them.
Benedict cleared his throat pointedly. "If the newlyweds have quite finished looking at one another as though no one else exists..."
Damien looked mildly annoyed. "We were speaking," he said, though the faint narrowing of his eyes suggested he knew perfectly well how unconvincing that sounded.
"You were staring," Benedict replied, folding his arms with infuriating ease.
Thalia laughed aloud, lifting her glass slightly as if to toast the spectacle. "I do believe marriage has improved my brother," she said, her eyes dancing with mischief.
"It has certainly made him less frightening," Benedict agreed, glancing at Damien with open delight.
Damien raised an eyebrow and gave his friend a look of exaggerated patience. "I can still have you removed from thisball," he said, his tone dry enough to draw another laugh from Thalia.
"I should like to see you try," Benedict replied, spreading one hand in mock invitation.
Seraphine covered her smile behind her fan, their easy banter warming her heart; only weeks earlier Damien had carried the burdens of the world alone, and now he laughed, however reluctantly, with those who loved him, which alone felt like a miracle.
Benedict's smile slowly faded, and he turned towards Seraphine with unexpected seriousness. "Your Grace… I owe you an apology," Benedict said, his expression sobering as he met her gaze.
Her brows knitted together, and she tilted her head in confusion. "Whatever for?" she asked, her fingers tightening lightly around her fan.
He drew a quiet breath and glanced briefly towards Damien before looking back at her.
"The investigator I recommended. Gantry. It was he who betrayed us," he said grimly.
Shock rippled through her, and she drew in a sharp breath.
Damien's expression darkened further, his hand curling at his side. "He informed Lord Pemberley that I had been looking for him. Augustus then offered him more money to work for him."
Benedict continued quietly, his voice lowered as though the ballroom itself might overhear. "We had entrusted him with much information. This allowed Augustus to set a trap luring Laurent and Damien away."
Seraphine felt a chill despite the warmth of the ballroom. The attack had not been chance. It had been carefully planned. Every detail calculated. Every movement observed. She looked at Benedict. He appeared genuinely troubled.
"I trusted him," he admitted. "He had worked for my solicitor for years."
Seraphine's expression softened. She gently closed her fan. "Benedict. You are forgiven."
