Chapter 41
“Your Grace. There is an envelope for you.”
Sophia surfaced from sleep slowly, her mind swimming through layers of exhaustion. The maid stood beside the bed, a cream-colored envelope in her outstretched hand, her expression carefully neutral.
Sunlight streamed through the curtains. Late morning, then. She had slept for hours.
“Thank you.” Sophia pushed herself upright and accepted the envelope. “That will be all.”
The maid curtsied and withdrew, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Sophia turned the envelope over in her hands. No name. No seal. Just smooth paper and the promise of secrets within.
She broke the seal and slid out the contents. A folded gossip sheet tumbled into her lap, along with a smaller piece of paper covered in familiar handwriting.
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 would rather 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.
“When I saw you in that alley, when I saw Drakeston’s hands on you…” His voice cracked. “I thought I had lost you. I thought my cowardice, my fear, had cost me the one person who matters most.”
Sophia reached for his hand. He gripped it like a lifeline.
“I told myself that needing you made me weak.” He stared at their joined hands.
“That wanting you would lead to destruction, the way my father’s passions destroyed my mother, destroyed Leonard, destroyed everything good in our family.
” He shook his head. “I convinced myself that pushing you away was protecting us both. That if I did not let myself love you, then I could not lose you.”
“Edward…”
“But I was wrong.” He looked up at her, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
“I have loved you for longer than I knew. Since the night you walked into my house and held my nephew as if he were precious. Since you challenged me and defied me and refused to let me hide behind my walls.” His voice dropped to a whisper.
“I love you, Sophia. I have been too afraid to say it, too afraid to feel it, but I cannot deny it anymore.”
The words threaded through her, bright and aching. She had dreamed of hearing them. Had wished for them in the long nights of silence and distance. And now here they were, offered with trembling hands and a breaking heart.
“Please.” Edward brought her hand to his lips. “Forgive me. Give me the chance to make this right. I will spend the rest of our lives proving that you can trust me, that I will never push you away again, that I am worthy of—”
“You hurt me.” Sophia’s voice was quiet but steady.
Edward flinched. “I know.”
“When you called our marriage a mistake. When you looked at me with those cold eyes and told me that caring for me was dangerous.” She felt the tears spill over, tracing warm lines down her cheeks. “I had given you everything. My trust. My heart. And you threw it back at me like it was nothing.”
“I know.” His voice was raw with anguish. “And I will regret it for the rest of my life. There is no excuse. No justification. I was afraid, and I let that fear turn me into my father. The one thing I swore I would never become.”
Sophia studied his face. The lines of exhaustion. The evidence of sleepless nights and punishing guilt. The openness that he had never allowed her to see before. The walls were finally, truly down.
“You hurt me.” She cupped his face in her hands. “But you also gave me something I never expected to find.”
He went still beneath her touch.
“You gave me Oliver.” Her voice softened. “A child who needed love and found it, because you let me into his life. You gave me a family, Edward. A genuine family, not the polite distance I grew up with, but something warm and chaotic and wonderful.”
She brushed her thumbs across his cheekbones, wiping away the tears he did not seem to realize he had shed.
“You gave me yourself.” Her voice broke. “The real you. The man who reads poetry in secret and lets Oliver add clouds to his paintings. The man who learned to hug his nephew, learned to open his heart, learned to love even when it terrified him.”
Edward’s breath caught.
“I love you.” The words emerged certain, unshakable.
“I have loved you since you stood in that ballroom and defended Lady Fairhart to a man who did not deserve your breath. Since you carried Oliver to bed and looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world. Since you kissed me on that balcony and made me believe that happiness was possible, even for someone like me.”
Edward pulled her into his arms. He held her so tight she could barely breathe, his face buried in her hair, his body shaking with relief and joy and something that felt like healing.
“I do not deserve you.” He murmured against her temple.
“Perhaps not.” She pulled back and smiled through her tears. “But you are stuck with me, nonetheless.”
He laughed, the sound wet and broken and beautiful. Then he kissed her.
The kiss was different from the ones that had come before. Those had been passion and hunger, desperation and desire. This was a promise. A vow. A declaration spoken without words.
Sophia pulled him closer, her fingers tangling in his hair. He lowered her back against the pillows, his weight settling over her, his mouth never leaving hers. The world outside the chamber ceased to exist. There was only this. Only them.
“I love you.” He whispered the words against her throat, her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder. “I love you. I love you.”
She answered with her hands, her lips, her body arching into his.
Edward responded, his hands running down the sides of her body and stopping on her hips. He leaned down and covered her nipple with his lips.
Sophia’s head lolled back as his tongue traced each nipple, slowly, teasing.
She pushed her pelvis against his body. When his mouth lifted, she let out a mew of protest, tangling her hands in his hair.
But his lips found their next mark, the pear between her legs.
As his tongue flicked lightly across it, she cried out his name.
The pleasure burned so intense; she couldn’t imagine flying higher.
She sank her fingernails into his shoulders and raised her hips. Edward lifted his mouth, and she whimpered in protest.
“I want you, Sophia,” Edward whispered, then kissed a trail of kisses up her belly and between her breasts. “I want to feel myself inside of you. Filling you. Is that what you want, my love?”
Yes.
Sophia didn’t know if she had said the word aloud, as her body answered. She pulled him deep inside of her, wrapping one leg around his waist, allowing him no room to escape. Her hips rocked up, and he joined the rhythm, thrusting deep inside of her.
Her body convulsed and pulsed as he thrust harder inside of her.
Pleasure spread from her pearl down to her toes.
It felt eternal. A forever promise. She clung to him in wonder as the feeling crested and opened her up to him.
She cried out his name as his thrusts grew more urgent.
When he roared out her name, she felt suspended in time. This was right. Here in his arms.
When she finally drew her breath again, she pressed her face against his shoulder, anchoring herself to him with her body. Anchoring him to her heart.
Afterward, they lay tangled together in the late morning light, Sophia’s head pillowed on Edward’s chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare shoulder. The sheets were a ruin around them. Neither cared.
“We should probably rise,” Sophia murmured, though she made no move to do so. “The servants will talk.”
“Let them.” Edward pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “We are married. This is precisely what married people are supposed to do.”
She laughed and nestled closer. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, strong and sure and hers.
“Oliver will want to see us.”
“Oliver can wait.” But Edward’s voice was soft with affection. “Though I suppose we should tell him that things are better now. He has been worried. He told me I should say sorry.”
Sophia traced the line of his jaw with her fingertip. “Wise beyond his years, that one.”
“He learned from you.” Edward caught her hand and kissed her fingers. “He said that when he makes a mistake, you tell him to say sorry and try to do better.”
“And did you?” Her eyes sparkled. “Say sorry?”
“I believe I did.” His lips curved. “Several times, if I recall.”
Edward rolled onto his side, pulling her with him until they faced each other on the pillows. His eyes roamed over her face, memorizing every detail, as though he could not quite believe she was real.
“I meant what I said.” His voice was quiet. “Every word. I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”
“You have already started.” She pressed her palm to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. “The gossip sheet. Coming for me in the alley. Staying up all night to make sure I was safe.”
“It is not enough.”
“It is a beginning.” She smiled. “And we have the rest of our lives for the rest.”
He pulled her close and kissed her again, soft and sweet and full of promise.
Outside the window, London carried on with its noise and bustle, indifferent to the small miracle unfolding within these walls. But inside the chamber, in the warm tangle of sheets and limbs and whispered promises, two people who had been broken made each other whole.
Sophia closed her eyes and let herself rest in Edward’s arms, her heart so full it ached.
This was what happiness felt like. This was what she had been searching for all along.
This was home.