Page 79 of Rules for Heiresses
He’d shaken his head. “That lowborn bastard is no brother of mine. You’ll learn the truth soon.”
There’d been no convincing him then. She’d only accepted the dance out of a misguided hope to salvage what was left of their friendship. It was clear that that would never happen when he was still so consumed with jealousy…as was made obvious by the callous, erroneous evidence in her hand. It didn’t matter if any of it was true; this was everything Courtland had feared. His origins would be exposed and he would be vilified.
She glanced at Morgan. “Is the duke still in the study?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Folding the vile papers beneath her arm, she strode to the study and knocked. Without waiting for a reply, she entered. None of the men seemed surprised to see her, which informed her that they must already know. Courtland’s face was expressionless.
“You’ve read them, I gather,” he said eventually.
“They’re lies.”
Her brother cleared his throat. “I’ve dispatched my lawyers, but the damage is already done. Lady Borne is swearing on her husband’s and the late duke’s lives that the claims are true. She is stating that Bingham was paid handsomely by your husband to declare Ashvale the legitimate heir, when he is, in fact, illegitimate, lowborn, and mix-blooded to boot.”
“But that’s preposterous,” she burst out. “What does the last have to do with anything?”
Her brother’s mouth twisted. “You, of all people, know the narrow-mindedness of theton. Sarani still faces their bigotry at every turn. They will champion a duke from their own ranks and class before exonerating one who is not.”
“But he’s the true duke!” she said.
“They won’t care,” Courtland said. “I will have already been tried, convicted, and sentenced, even though my parents’ marriage was recorded in the local parish register. My grandmother took me to see it, and my father had to have made some record here. Unless there was some error in the filing.”
“What about Bingham?” she asked. “He’s the one who came with the documents of Courtland’s succession. He must have proof of the marriage.”
Waterstone looked grim, his perpetually amused smile missing from his somber features. “Bingham is in the hospital, fighting for his life. Thieves broke into his residence and ransacked the place, stealing a lifetime’s worth of files before thrashing him to within an inch of his life.”
“Who would do such a thing?” she murmured.
“Who, indeed?” Waterstone said. “But I’ll find out, never you mind.”
But Ravenna already had a sneaking suspicion. It had to be Stinson. No one else had anything to gain by discrediting the new Duke of Ashvale, and he’d all but admitted it. But Mr. Bingham? To set ruffians upon an innocent man? That seemed beyond the pale.
“What can I do?” she asked. “I want to help.”
Her brother turned. “You can be the Duchess of Ashvale. Hold your head up high.”
“She should separate herself from me,” Courtland replied at the same time. “That was the plan anyway.”
“That wasyourplan,” she snapped. “Never mine.”
Rhystan’s eyes narrowed. “Plan?”
She exhaled, her hands fisting at her sides at the expression on Courtland’s face. She could barely look away to answer her brother’s question. Ravenna’s heart felt as though it was tumbling from a great height, off a cliff to jagged rocks below. Those sharp edges loomed, taunting her with the end.The end of them.
Swallowing past the knot in her throat, Ravenna firmed her jaw and walked past her gaping brother to the desk where she met her husband’s shadowed eyes. “Let me make this very clear. I. Do. Not. Want. A Divorce.”
“Tying yourself to me was a mistake.”
“Marrying you was the best thing I’ve ever done!” She felt the tears breach her eyelids, but let them fall. For once, she would not hide her vulnerability. “Go on. Ask me why.”
His face was impassive. “Why?”
“Because…” Her voice trailed off, breath, strength, and hope rushing from her in a desperate attempt to save her poor heart from impending doom. “I love you.”
The confession was strangled, whispered.Raw.
Light slivered in his beautiful, midnight eyes before it was suffocated by the sheer force of his will. “I warned you not to hope for more with me.”
