Page 149 of Ironvine

“Dishonour.” Her bitter laugh skewered the word. “After all the rumours I’ve planted, suspicion shall always remain on you and your wife.”

“We shall have to bear that as best we can, Mrs. Treharne,” said Georgina.

Charles tilted his head at the Duke. “I am satisfied to know the truth, and I am satisfied to have Hugh’s letter back in the possession of whom it rightly belongs. And, lastly, Mrs. Treharne, I am satisfied that you shall no longer reside here in Gloucestershire ever again. I bid you goodbye andbon voyage.”

The Duke stepped out of the carriage and gestured to his manservant, who entered the coach.

Amanda moved forward in her seat, the lines of her face taunt as the Duke shut the coach door. “You are going to my estate in the north under the protection of my most trusted man. I shall meet you there in three days.”

A frown marred Amanda’s face as she shifted in her seat.

“Behave yourself for there shall be consequences. And our agreement shall be nullified.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze troubled. “Until then, Your Grace.”

The Duke signaled the driver, and the driver called out to his horses, cracked his whip, and the sleek animals sprang forward, the carriage heaved, and the black coach charged down the road, away from Ironvine.

“How did you find her?” the Duchess asked her husband.

“Stubborn, willful. She’ll do nicely.”

Charles slid his arm around Georgina’s waist and kissed her temple. “It is done,” he whispered.

They would never see Amanda again.

ChapterSixty-Five

Charles

Charles and Georginaand the Duke took a brandy in the parlour at Ironvine as they waited for the Duchess, who had gone to Georgina’s drawing room to read Hugh’s letter.

She returned. “Ryvves, you must read your brother’s final words, for I do believe therein lies a truth that you seek.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

He took the letter, moved to the window and read.

My darling, my dearest Zandra,

I pray this letter borne of tears of regret finds you before the evil whispers of the ton reach you. I have done something utterly stupid, and you must know of it from me. You must hear the whole of it from me.

There we were at the finish line, and I cocked everything up. With a foolish indulgence, I almost brought ruin to us all.

I beg for your forgiveness, I plead for your understanding. I will not be able to bear living without them, without you.

I have failed you, my love, and that knowledge has broken me.

The reckless sins of my flesh are many. You know them all. This was selfish and thoughtless. I abhor my own self for my behaviour, for my choices rooted in weakness, vanity, and hubris. Revulsion overwhelms me as I write these words.

I fought the duel, and I won. The other man is dead. It is over.

Be assured, our privacy remains secure. The world will only know that Charles is the one who fought the duel, for I did the unthinkable. I shot my brother myself, giving him an arm wound as undeniable proof of his participation in the duel. It was the only way to ensure my engagement and that our plans to reunite shall remain unstained and intact.

I can only hope that one day Charles will allow me to explain. That he will understand. That he will be able to forgive me.

But at this very moment, the only thing of worth to me is your forgiveness. All the blood on my hands means nothing before you, my dearest love.

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