Andrew descended his horse, planting his feet in the snow. It had started falling a few days ago, and it had not stopped ever since. Even now, the snow was falling and sticking to the ground, forming a soft, white cushion.

It cracked underneath his boots as he walked toward the front door of the estate, making the first steps in the fresh snow. He felt sorry for breaking the beautiful landscape, but had a reason for wanting to go that door.

Without hesitation, he knocked on the door. But while waiting, the hesitation came. Should he truly be doing this? Was there still time to leave unnoticed? What would he tell his sister if he left? Would he ever forgive himself if he did not stay? What would he do if she denied him?

Before his doubt could take away the little courage he had left, the door opened and showed the butler who had opened the door the other times he was here. Andrew did not have to say a word, for the butler nodded and said: "I shall fetch lord Blackburn."

Andrew waited outside, hoping his trip through the snow would not have been in vain. But mostly he hoped that lord Blackburn would let him in and that Victoria would listen to him. Elizabeth was right when she said that if Victoria needed time, she had had enough by now. This was the time for Andrew to take action – one last time.

The door reopened and the butler appeared again, with behind him lord Blackburn.

"Lord Brompton," the man said as he rolled his invalid's chair closer. He motioned for the butler to leave them, and when they were alone, Andrew took initiative.

"Lord Blackburn, my apologies for the intrusion, but I would like to speak to your sister. I understand she does not want to speak to me, but I ask of you to give me one last chance. What she believes is a lie, and I wish to correct it. Whatever she thinks of me after that, is her choice, and I shall accept it. But I cannot let her live her life believing a lie."

Lord Blackburn remained silent for a while, thinking of Andrew's words and – hopefully – considering letting him inside. Finally, the lord spoke: "my sister still does not want to see you, my lord, so I can still not allow you entry. But should you decide to ignore my demand to stay away from her, I am certain my legs will not be able to run after you and stop you."

It took Andrew a few seconds to understand what the man said, but once he had repeated the words inside his head, he wasted no time. He entered the estate and ran through the hallway, hearing lord Blackburn shouting: "she is in the garden. Please, do not break her heart or I shall fetch guards who will be able to run after you and stop you."

Andrew did not take time to react to those words, but in his mind he answered. He would never break her heart, for if he did, it would break his too. All he wanted was to give her a chance to see her mistake and mend her. Everything he wanted, was her.

He opened the only door he knew let outside and did not stop when a cold wind hit him in his face. He looked at the fresh snow and saw footprints swaying through the garden. Since they were the only ones, it was easy to follow them and find Victoria.

She looked gorgeous, her light blue dress and blond hair a perfect contrast against the bright white snow. He stopped walking just to take in the view. Even if she denied him, she would not be able to take away this memory.

He watched her taking a deep breath, then turning and freezing when she saw him. Her face was peaceful – happy even – at first, but then it turned to shocked. With that look on her face, Andrew's doubt became stronger than his confidence, and he started looking for a way out of this situation. He could just tell her he was there because his sister asked him to – which was not a complete lie.

But when she spoke, he remembered why he was here, why he decided to come to her.

"What are you doing here, Andrew?"

"I came to make you listen to me," he answered.

"I do not want you to be here," he said, her eyes shining from unshed tears that were waiting to fall down. "Please, leave."

Andrew shook his head and took a step closer. He did not want to make her cry, but he came here for a reason. He ought to talk to her, so he would. And he shall make her listen. "I am not leaving. I am not making that mistake again."

"That was not a mistake, that-"

"That was a mistake," he interrupted. "A mistake I shall not repeat. Even if you do not want me here, I shall speak and you shall listen."

"Is that how you want my forgiveness? By ordering me?"

"If that is what it takes, then yes," he answered. "If I need to order you about to gain your forgiveness, than I shall order everything."

She shook her head in disbelieve, a single tear rolling over her cheek. He wanted to come closer and wipe it away, but if he did, he was not certain he would leave the house unharmed like he had planned.

"You want to see me hurt again?" she asked with a pained voice. "You want to rip open all the wounds you have made so easily?"

"No," he answered right away. "No, I do not want to hurt you. Believe me, I do not. I want to mend you, but for that to happen, you ought to listen to me and believe me."

She shook her head, making more tears fall out of her eyes. "I cannot. You know I cannot believe you. Not after what you did."

"But I did not do anything. I promise you, it was not I who invited your aunt. I would never do that to you. And I do not understand why you think I would."

"Because people betray. That is what they do."

He had forgotten how she did not trust people, yet her words did not surprise him. He had seen how her aunt had betrayed her, and how the ton had turned their backs on her. He understood why she thought this, but she was wrong when it came to him. "I would never betray you, Vicky."

She sobbed at his words, turning her head away from him as she did so. Andrew took the moment to walk closer to her and take her hand. She merely looked up at him, but did not pull away.

There is hope.

"I do not want to see you hurt," he told her, "and I would never want to be the reason for your pain. I could not live with myself if I ever did that."

"Sweet lies," she whispered, but Andrew doubted she believed her own words.

"No," he said, cupping her face with his free hand. "I could never lie to you." She did not react, but also did not seem to not believe him. "Please, Vicky, I need you to believe me."

"Then convince me," she whispered, her voice thick from the tears. Those mere words gave him more hope. She wanted to be convinced. She might believe him.

"Everything I have done for you," he said, "I did that because I wanted to see you smile. I want to make you happy. I would never invite someone who hates you. If I would, it would be to slap her."

Victoria let out a laughing sob, warming his heart, for she laughed because of him.

"I would never hurt you," he said for what felt like the millionth time. "I could not."

"Then tell me who invited her," she begged.

Andrew wanted to, he really did. But just like her, he had absolutely no idea who would want to hurt her. He was the only one she told about the lady, and the letter was signed by his name. But he had not done any of that.

He shook his head. "I do not know, but it was not me. I promise you that I will find whoever made up the lie and make them pay."

He looked at her, but her eyes were looking down at the ground. So he lifted her chin and made her look at him.

"You are worth so much to me. And being separated from you was awful. I never want that again."

Her face was wet from the tears and unreadable. Yet in her voice held a note of blame when she said: "you stopped coming."

"Because you did not want me here."

She shook her head. "I did not want to listen to you, for your words would convince me of the opposite of what I believe. You would tell me it was not you, and I would believe your every word. But when you would turn your back on me, I would start doubting everything and reopen my own wounds."

"I would never turn my back on you," he said before she could speak more words that might convince her he was to blame.

"But you did."

He looked at her face and saw the desperation in her eyes. She needed him just as much as he needed her, but she still doubted his innocence.

He moved his head closer and leaned his forehead against her. "A mistake I will never make again."

Her eyes met his as she sobbed and looked at him for comfort. "Prove it to me."

He knew what she wanted him to do, but he could not - not yet. He had to truly prove it instead of giving her what she wants.

"If you promise you will lay your full trust in my hands again, I shall promise to make an effort as well."

"How?"

He captured her eyes with his as he blindly wrapped his other arm around her waist. "I shall take you with me to Duncan."

"Duncan?"

He nodded, keeping his forehead on hers. "I have gotten a fully equipped staff to clean the estate and serve everyone living inside. I want to show you what is mine, and mayhap fall in love with it."

He saw her swallow as she considered his proposition, his eyes never leaving her. He had not expected her to say "yes" immediately, but he had not thought of the anticipation he would feel while waiting for her answer.

"You cannot return to London yet," he told her, hoping to convince her, "for your aunt is still there. And I assume your brother prefers to be left alone for a while."

He gave her time to answer, but she did not. So Andrew swallowed, then said: "I would like some company in Duncan when I go there." He moved his head so that it was closer to hers. "I want you in Duncan."

Her eyes met his as she heard those words, and he noticed the fear and blame were not there anymore. Yet the desperation remained. "Why me?"

He let his hand caress her back as he closed his eyes, preparing himself for his next words. Still, he would not give her what she wanted. Not yet.

"Because I need you."