As Ben walked further into the garden, each step leading further and further away from the din of the ball. Each step taking him to a more private area of the garden, where two lovers may be alone without the chance of being seen by prying eyes. Or a husband, perhaps.

His gut twisted in despair.

My fault.

He imagined the two of them kissing, and his lunch threatened to heave itself out of his stomach. Would she whisper sweet words like she did to him? Would she kiss Stanhope with the unbridled enthusiasm that she kissed him? Anger and jealousy spun a maelstrom inside him until he thought he would be physically sick. What would he do if he saw them like that?

Take what's left of your pride and walk away.

But how? How was he supposed to do that when he had not felt so connected to another person in his entire life? When the idea of severing his tie to her was tantamount to tearing off one of his limbs?

What else then? Beg her to stay with you? What right do you have to ask her of that?

He was eventually close enough to spy them at a distance, Stanhope's back to him obscuring his view of his wife. Ben quietened his footfalls and approached as close as he dared, and when he spotted a garden wall that separated the gazebo from one side of the garden, he slipped behind it and walked until he was right next to the gazebo. His heart thudded so hard that for a minute he could not hear what they were saying.

Walk away now, unless you are prepared to face whatever happens here.

There was still time, he could go back to the ball, dance a quadrille or two, and remain in blissful ignorance. Then he could spend the rest of his life making sure they were never in the same place as Stanhope for as long as they lived.

'I will make everything right. Please. Please,' Stanhope was begging his wife and Ben was almost tempted to climb over the wall just to see what his wife's expressions were. 'As soon as I marry, I will make everything right. I swear to you.'

'How can you possibly think that you can make things right?! It's been five years!' She hissed at him, her temper impressive.

'I must marry first. I will fix everything, but I cannot afford to lose Jane.'

'And you will marry her, have her live in Cornwall where she can face the evidence of your damn perfidy every time she wishes to venture into town?! You bloody coward.'

Ben winced at the sheer fury in her voice, a stupid damn part of him was relieved that there was no tenderness in her speech.

How much Stanhope must have hurt her, to have made her this angry? How much must he have meant to her to have hurt her this much, to begin with?

'I know I am. I know.....' Ben strained to hear the next words. '....coward for leaving. A coward for not coming back and a coward for......beloved of the truth.' The anguish in Stanhope's voice was so potent, even Benedict felt a smidgen of sympathy. 'But please..... swear to you that my love is true. There has not been a moment in all these years that I have not thought and ached-'

Ben was going to be ill.

Love.

Stanhope spoke of the one thing that Minerva always wished for. The one thing Ben did not know how to offer.

'Love? Love?! Don't you dare stand here and speak to me of love, you whoreson.' She spat at him. 'Not after I wrote you letter after letter, begging you to come back to Marshall's Glenn. Not when you missed......' Her voice dropped to a furious whisper and the next few words were lost to him. '.... every damn milestone, every damn sickness, every damn smile. Do you have any idea what my husband would think of me knowing I humbled myself before anyone the way I have humbled myself before you, time and again?!'

Ben felt himself go lightheaded, as if his mind could no longer stand the onslaught. Stanhope and his wife clearly had an intimate history.

She, who had written him two letters in the entirety of their marriage, had sent Stanhope letter after letter. Had begged him to come back.

Clearly, she was willing and able to fight for someone when her affections were engaged. They just weren't engaged where he was concerned. Maybe because she knew he did not know how to love her. Maybe she had found in someone else what he was unable to provide.

His chest felt so tight, it ached. His breathing came and went in short, harsh spurts that almost hurt his lungs. His heart felt like it was being crushed.

She, who had always been composed and proud in front of him had humbled herself before Stanhope.

She loved someone else.

Walk away.

With nearly shaking legs Benedict began to make his way back to the ballroom, but then, with each subsequent step, his anguish turned into a fury. A fire that built and built, fed by his tumultuous thoughts.

She would lie to him? Speak to him of progress in their relationship and then sneak away in clandestine rendezvous with another? She would make love to him, while harboring a torch for another?

She thought that he would just let her go? She thought she could keep him on a string while she dealt with Stanhope?

Yes, it had been he who had told her to seek companionship if she wished. But it had also been him who had been fighting for their marriage while she remained skittish, unmoving. Untrusting.

Had it been because she had hoped for Stanhope's return?

With a snarled curse he turned on his heel, marching back towards his wife.

Did she expect him to just roll over while she stepped all over him?

She could bloody well try.

'Please. Please, I beg of you. Forgive me. I chose my duty to my brother over everything else and it tears me apart every day.' Stanhope had gotten to his knees and had grabbed her hands, his voice had broken and tears slid down his face.

Did he expect her to feel sorry for him after all that he had done?

'Forgiveness is not mine to give, My Lord.'

'What do you want of me?'

'I want you to do the right thing. What you should have done five years ago.' She bit out, unable to keep the frost from her tone. Stanhope winced, his face crumpling into another set of fresh tears.

'Jane will leave me.'

'And she will not after you are married? You have belonged to this society since birth, Stanhope. You ought to know full well that two people can be married and not see each other for years.'

Of all the audacious things, he had hoped she would help him keep his secret from his fiancée?!

'I am lost, Your Grace. There are no good choices.'

'Whatever you decide, I will not let a lying cretin like you swindle that poor girl! Either you tell her, or I will-!'

'Get your damned hands off of my wife!'

Oh, bollocks.

Stanhope dropped her hands as if they were aflame and staggered backward. Minerva whirled so fast, she almost lost her footing. Standing on the path that led to the gazebo was her husband, standing in his evening finery, his face contorted with fury. He looked like Hades come to announce his judgment on the souls of the dead. Untouchable, regal, handsome, and cold. He resembled the Benedict she had married rather than the man she had been getting to know.

'Rothbury. This isn't what it looks like.'

'Get out.'

'You misunderstand the situation entirely-'

'Get out or be prepared to face me on a field of honor. I swear to God, I will put a bullet through you.' Her husband announced with such menace that sent a shiver through her. Stanhope paled and then walked away with staggering footsteps and once the sound of his footfall vanished, all of her husband's rage centered in on her.

Oh dear, this was about to get ugly.

He took menacing steps toward her until she had no chance but to back into the garden wall. She winced as stems and twigs dug into her back and her husband obviously saw, because he swore and then tore his jacket off his shoulders and put them around hers. Once her skin was safe from the foliage, he pressed her back into the wall.

Be gentle, even if he infuriates you.

'How dare you.' His voice was soft, but there was no affection in it. 'How dare you stand here holding his hands after you kissed me just before coming down here. How dare you stand here and speak of love with him after you made me feel as if I...' She heard his voice break, and her heart broke right along with it. '.... as if I mattered.'

'Ben, if you would-'

'How bloody dare you go meeting him behind my damn back? How dare you think so little of the effort I have put in to make our marriage work? How bloody dare you think so damn little of me when I have never made myself as open as I have with you.'

'Ben you misunderstand-'

'You would betray me like this?'

'Betray you?!' She asked incredulously, her own temper tugging at the leash she had been holding it in.

'Yes! What else would you call this fucking stupidity? You were stupid enough to love Stanhope while married to me? Too damn bad. I forbid you from seeing him ever again. I am changing the rules, damn you, because I am your husband and it is my God-given right to tell you to do as I see fit. No more of this lovers nonsense, are we damned clear? You bloody well belong to me and don't you dare forget it. If you think I will let you dangle me along while you meet in damned shaded gazebos with your lovers, think again. I will damn lock you in Hartley if you try this again.'

'You forbid me?! You will lock me away?!' She snapped at him, her own anger now out of her control. 'Let's not forget, Your Grace, whose damned idea this was. And how dare you come here with all this indignation! All this righteous presumption as damn always, so damn sure that what you think is right.'

'I heard the two of you talking.' He spat.

'So what? Did I at any point tell Stanhope that I loved him? That I wanted him? No sir, how dare you! How dare you stand here and question my honor when I have done nothing but comply with the rules you set? Or was I to live these last few years celibate and alone while you went through the damn town with whomever you wished?'

'Minerva-'

'No, now you will listen, damn you! How dare you have so little faith in me that you would not even bother to ask me what we were talking about? Did it occur to you that I only came out here for some air and he approached me? Or in your conviction, were you sure I had lured him away for a seduction? You should not have come in that case, lest you have found us engaged in a tryst!' She pushed at his chest in frustration so hard that he staggered back a step. He gathered her hands and trapped them across his chest so she could not strike him again.

'I did not think you-'

'Damn you! Am I so unworthy of your trust, then?' She felt her eyes moisten with stupid tears. 'Is your regard for me so low that you would not even ask me before you find me guilty? But why should I be surprised? It has been this way from the day we got married. ' She struggled against his hold that he only tightened, shaking his head in refusal as if his throat was too choked with his own emotion. 'Unhand me, damn you!'

His face had flushed with embarrassment, the fury in his eyes banked considerably.

'If you, in your infinite wisdom, had bothered to ask what it was that Stanhope wanted from me, I would have gladly told you that he has not and will not ever be my lover. I would have told you that he is Nicholas's father and wants to get to know his son, and does not know how to tell his fiancée about him!'

'What?!'

'But no! Why would you do that when you know everything?!' She said testily, but her anger was vanishing quickly at the horrified look on his face. 'And I well and truly must be stupid, for the only man I love is the most insufferable, arrogant, high-handed duke in all of bloody England!'

She gasped then, absolutely horrified and unable to believe what had just come from her mouth! She couldn't have meant that, could she?

It couldn't possibly be true, could it?

No.

Of course not.

She looked at him again, so handsome and bold. Arrogant and aristocratic. Her stupid heart gave a fond thump as she took him in.

Oh no. 

Oh, no no no no no. 

How could she have been so foolish?! 

It was true! She was in love with him?! How had that happened?! Her husband, too, stared at her in shock, equally in disbelief over her confession.

Oh, how absolutely humbling. God was likely getting a real kick out of this one.

'Minerva,' He groaned, and then his mouth was upon hers, trying to coax her lips to move against his. She pushed against his chest once again.

'I told you to unhand me! You do not deserve my kisses!' She informed him with great irritation.

'I know,' he murmured soothingly, peppering kisses across her face. 'But if you damn well think I am ever letting you go after that, you're mad. Tell me again. Please, darling.'

'I love you, you damned arrogant arse!'

'Oh, wife. My lovely wife.' He rested his brow against hers. 'When I heard Stanhope speak to you about love, I was so bloody terrified, because I don't know how to give you that. And I thought that you would not choose me if there was someone who could. I do not want to lose you, Minerva. You are far too precious to me. Forgive me, please. I am still learning. I do not think you are without honor. I am sorry to have even thought it. Please believe me. Forgive me. I am sorry.'

'There is no place for mistrust in a happy marriage, Ben.'

'I know. Please forgive me. I did not deal well with my emotions. You are so open with your heart, but I am still getting the hang of it and I did not see anything past my fear. I just knew I could not let him have you.' He paused to kiss her hands. 'And that is why, my dearest wife, I am promising you that I am willing to learn. If you will teach me.'

'Teach you?' She was unable to help herself from caressing his cheeks, his expression was so solemn she could not help the rush of affection that filled her heart. She really hadn't ever stood a chance, not since the first day at the orphanage when he had treated all the children like they were important and interesting. She had known since then that inside his prickly exterior lay a man worth loving. That was why she had fought it for so long.

'What it means to love. Because I intend to provide you with everything you have wished for, including my love. If you will only be patient enough until I learn. Until then you have my support, my friendship, my loyalty, and my affection. You are my wife, and I care for you above all others. I adore you above all others. I miss you when we are apart and want to be around you when you are near. I never want either of us to doubt how the other regards them. Please, be mine once and for all.'

Privately, Vera thought that what he was saying even now was rather close to love, but she was willing to be patient until he was ready to make the admission himself.

'Very well.' She nodded gravely. 'I want this. I want our marriage. I want you, Ben, and no one else. I love you and have only ever loved you.'

'I will make sure you never regret it.'

That night, they made love so slowly and tenderly that Minerva almost wept in the aftermath. It was as if they were reaffirming and strengthening the new foundations of their marriage.

'Please tell me again,' Benedict had whispered against the skin of her collar where he was pressing adoring kisses into her skin as they moved in tandem, joined intimately.

'I love you, Ben. So much. Only you. Always you.' She had gasped with each slow thrust, being taken to the peak of her pleasure with each slow glide of his body within her.

They lay in each other's arms for a long, long while and her husband had almost drifted off to sleep when she finally found the courage to speak.

'Ben?' Her voice came out hesitant.

'Hmmm?' He mumbled sleepily but turned to look at her.

'I was thinking. After I am back from Boston...Would you like to- that is to say- perhaps we.....I was thinking maybe we could try for a baby. Would you like that?'

She felt him stiffen beneath her and then, in just a moment later, she found herself hauled across his chest, being kissed with so much tenderness that her heart almost swelled.

'There is nothing on this Earth that I would like more than for us to have a family.' He kissed her head, her cheeks, and her nose. 'But we can wait a while longer if you like. I don't mind in the least.'

'Yes, I know. But it feels right, don't you think?' She admitted shyly, wondering if he could feel the heat from her flushed face against his own skin.

'If it is you and me, it will always be right.'

With a happy sigh, she settled against him, drifting off into sleep.

Everything really did feel right.

And then, of course, everything went horribly, terribly wrong.