Chapter 28 #3
Lady Spencer’s mouth tightened. “Your presence has complicated matters at every turn. You remain under this roof, and you make it impossible for him to see clearly.”
Sarah’s expression did not shift.
Lady Spencer gave a short, irritated breath. “If you stay at Roxburghe, you will ruin him further. You must see that.”
Sarah met the woman’s eyes directly, her silence deliberate.
Lady Spencer’s frustration sharpened. “Do not stand there pretending innocence, Mrs. Shaw. You have placed yourself where you do not belong. If you had any true regard for His Grace, you would step aside.”
Sarah finally spoke, her voice quiet. “I have done nothing improper.”
“That is precisely the trouble,” Lady Spencer said. “You do nothing, and yet everything around you changes. He cannot think sensibly while you remain here.”
Sarah did not move. She did not look away.
Lady Spencer searched her face for some sign of weakness.
She found none. Her tone shifted without warning.
She drew herself up, her expression sharpening.
“If you truly cared for my nephew,” she said, “you would step aside for Lady Arabella. Her position would restore the estate’s standing. You must see that.”
Sarah kept her posture steady but did not reply.
Lady Spencer moved a little closer. “The gossip will not stop. It will touch everyone in this house. It will touch Henry. It will touch your Clara.”
The mention of the children struck Sarah with a brief tremor of fear, but she recovered quickly. She recognized the tactic the moment she heard it.
“That is not why you exposed the truth,” Sarah said quietly. “You did it because you could not bear to see His Grace choose something that did not align with your idea of duty.”
Lady Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “I acted out of concern.”
Sarah held her gaze. “Did you mean concern for improper attachment, or did you mean concern for him finding happiness?”
Lady Spencer’s composure faltered. Her eyes shifted and her breath caught. It was instantly clear to Sarah that she was a woman who was issuing warnings and interfering because she had spent her entire life choosing reputation because she had never been permitted anything else.
Sarah felt her anger soften, though her resolve did not.
At that moment, the door was thrown open and His Grace entered the room. He walked purposefully, and his expression was controlled with his focus fixed on the two women. Lady Spencer turned toward him.
“William,” she said, trying to recover her footing, “I was only—”
He held up a hand to stop her from speaking and then stepped to Sarah’s side without hesitation. “Aunt, this will not continue.”
Lady Spencer stood up straighter. “You cannot seriously mean to take her side in this.”
“I do,” he said. “I have made that clear. And I will not allow you to speak to or of Mrs. Shaw in this manner.”
She stared at her nephew, startled by the firmness in his voice. “You are risking your name.”
“I know what I am risking,” he said. “I have chosen this path with full understanding of its cost.”
Lady Spencer tried again. “You cannot expect the estate to withstand—”
“All I expect is for you to stop,” he said quietly. “You will not dictate her worth. You will not dictate her future.”
Sarah felt the full meaning of his words.. He had not looked at her yet, but the meaning was unmistakable.
Lady Spencer’s disbelief sharpened. “You would cast aside every expectation placed upon you willingly?”
The duke looked directly at his aunt. “I will not cast aside what matters,” he said, “and you know we have already discussed this at length. You told me this morning you would comply with my wishes, yet you stand here fighting me. I will not do anything simply for the sake of appearances.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he did not move, and he did not waver. His resolve was clear.
Lady Spencer’s eyes shifted from him to Sarah and back again, searching for some leverage she no longer possessed. When she found none, she inhaled slowly, lifted her chin, and walked to the door.
Lady Spencer left without another word. The door closed behind her with a quiet finality.
Sarah remained where she was, trying to calm her breathing and her pounding heart.
She had reclaimed her dignity, but more than that, she had witnessed His Grace’s growth with her own eyes.
He had stood against his own family, in his own house, for her sake.
The truth of it sank in slowly, almost cautiously, as though her mind needed time to accept what she had seen.
He chose to stand beside me. He did not hesitate. He did not soften his words for her, and he meant every one of them.
She felt a surge of emotion but did not allow herself to dwell on it.
Do not trust it too easily.
Yet despite her resolve, the feeling remained—steady and undeniable.
Hope.
William turned toward her, his expression softening. He did not speak, but his eyes conveyed everything he felt.
She smiled but did not say anything. She could not. Not yet. But for the first time, the question of whether she could trust him felt like one she was free to decide for herself.