Chapter 18
That night, the Duchess of Ashworth sat alone in the drawing room for a very long time.
She'd known, of course, that Sebastian blamed himself for the fire. But hearing Estella say it… Hearing the full scope of his self-imposed sentence…
It left Philippa deeply unsettled.
He blames himself.
He shouldn't. Or at least, he shouldn't bear the weight alone.
The fire had not been an accident of disrepair and carelessness. Philippa had suspected that from the start, and her investigations since had only strengthened that suspicion. But suspicion was not proof, and the person she needed to protect most was the one person who could provide it.
Lydia.
Philippa closed her eyes. Should she tell Blackwood that her sister was alive? That Andrew had rescued her in time, and that his death had not been in vain?
She let her head fall back with a sigh. If she told him, there’d be questions. And she’d be trusting him with the truth she’d been working so desperately to hide.
Lydia was safe for now, but she wasn’t out of danger. Her husband was still out there, albeit out of London for the moment. Last she'd heard, he'd been traveling the continent. But if he knew Lydia was alive. That their child lived…
Philippa’s hands clenched into fists. Oh, how she wished her own husband still lived. Yes, he’d been sickly those last few years of his life, but even so, he’d have known how to wield his power.
She had power of her own as a dowager duchess. She had far more power than most women in this country, but some days it still didn’t feel like enough. Her power was only useful in ballrooms and parlors, not in court.
When it came to the law, Philippa had no proof. It was all her word against a peer.
If Sebastian knew the truth… If he knew that the fire wasn't his carelessness, that Andrew had died because of another man's deliberate cruelty, that his two years of guilt had been built on a false foundation…
It would change everything for him. Free him, perhaps. Certainly free him to love Estella without the cage of self-punishment he'd built for himself.
But it would also mean exposing Lydia. Answering questions about where she'd been, why she'd hidden, what her husband had done to her. Questions she feared Lydia was not ready to face.
Philippa went to her writing desk and sat down. She pulled out a sheet of paper, dipped her pen, and stared unseeingly at the blank page.
She couldn't tell Sebastian. Not yet.
Besides, if she handed him absolution now, he'd use it as another excuse—he'd tell himself he was only free to love Estella because the guilt had been lifted, not because he'd chosen to set it down.
No. He had to make that choice first. He had to earn it. Because even though Lydia had survived, Andrew had not. And that was a fact Lord Blackwood would have to deal with.
But perhaps… Perhaps she could begin to lay the groundwork. A conversation with her solicitor. A carefully worded inquiry. Not for Sebastian's sake, but for Lydia's. Because if the truth was ever going to come out, it needed to come out safely. And that required preparation.
She began to write.
Dear Mr. Hartwell,
I require your assistance in a matter of some delicacy…
She paused and then dipped her head to finish the missive.
The truth about the fire would come out eventually. Philippa would make certain of that. But it would come out on her terms, and in a way that protected the people she loved.
She sealed the letter and rang for a servant.