PART TWO — The Rumor That Could Destroy Her

“What are you reading?”

Adrian’s question sounded almost absurd after everything that had happened.

Beatrice lifted the book.

“A treatise on drainage.”

“You find it interesting?”

“I find it useful.”

She turned a page.

“Interesting things are everywhere. Useful things are harder to find.”

Adrian smiled.

He had spent years surrounded by educated men who could quote philosophers for hours and still couldn’t recognize a broken fence on their own estate.

Beatrice knew exactly where the problem was.

She simply didn’t have the money to fix it.

That distinction fascinated him.

“You understand land,” he said.

“I understand what happens when people neglect it.”

“That’s different.”

“Not as different as you think.”

They continued talking.

About farms.

About books.

About tenants.

About the strange habits of wealthy men who believed money made them experts in everything.

For the first time in years, Adrian forgot that people were watching him.

Then Lady Celeste approached.

Her smile was beautiful.

Her voice was sweeter.

“Your Grace.”

Adrian looked up.

“Celeste.”

She curtsied.

Then glanced at Beatrice.

The glance lasted only a second.

But it was enough.

“I was beginning to wonder where you had disappeared.”

“I’ve been here.”

“I can see that.”

Celeste smiled.

Her eyes moved over Beatrice’s dress.

“How charming.”

Beatrice closed her book.

“Thank you.”

Celeste’s smile tightened.

“I was speaking of your dress.”

“I know.”

Adrian’s gaze sharpened.

Celeste continued as though she hadn’t noticed.

“Miss Ashcombe, surely your aunt is looking for you. There are several shawls that need attending to.”

Beatrice looked at her.

“I’m sure there are.”

“Then perhaps you should go.”

Adrian spoke before Beatrice could answer.

“She will stay.”

Celeste turned.

“Of course.”

Her smile remained.

But something dark had entered her eyes.

The next morning, the first rumor appeared.

By noon, it had reached three neighboring estates.

By evening, half the county had heard it.

Beatrice Ashcombe’s father, they whispered, had not been the respectable gentleman everyone remembered.

He had allegedly forged documents.

Stolen from creditors.

Left debts large enough to ruin several families.

Some said he had disappeared rather than face justice.

Others claimed he had died under another name.

And the cruelest version said Beatrice had known the truth all along.

The rumor spread because people preferred scandal to uncertainty.

By dinner, doors that had once opened for Beatrice were suddenly closed.

Servants whispered when she passed.

Women who had smiled at her the night before now looked away.

Her aunt refused to explain.

“You should never have spoken to the Duke,” she whispered.

Beatrice stared at her.

“I did nothing wrong.”

“That has never stopped people from deciding otherwise.”

Then came the invitation.

The Duke requested Beatrice’s presence at Ravenshire.

She arrived expecting an interrogation.

Instead, she found Adrian standing beside the library window with a sealed document in his hand.

“You’ve heard the rumors.”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe them?”

“No.”

The answer came immediately.

Beatrice looked at him.

“Why?”

“Because the people spreading them are enjoying themselves too much.”

A faint smile touched his mouth.

“Besides, I’ve spent enough years dealing with estate records to know the difference between a crime and a convenient story.”

He placed the document on the desk.

“These are your father’s financial records.”

Beatrice stared at them.

“You investigated him?”

“I investigated the rumor.”

Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the papers.

Adrian watched her face.

There were discrepancies.

Large ones.

Payments that had been made.

Debts that had been settled.

Documents dated years after her father had supposedly disappeared.

Someone had altered the story.

Someone had carefully constructed the scandal.

Beatrice looked up.

“Why would anyone do this?”

Adrian’s expression hardened.

“Because someone wants you frightened.”

“Of what?”

“Of me.”

Silence.

Beatrice understood.

The rumor wasn’t really about her father.

It was about stopping her from becoming part of Adrian’s world.

Before she could respond, the doors to the ballroom opened.

Adrian took her arm.

“Come.”

“Where?”

“To the county assembly.”

Her face paled.

“Now?”

“Especially now.”

The ballroom was already crowded when they entered.

Conversations died.

Dozens of faces turned toward them.

Adrian walked directly to the center of the room.

Beatrice felt every eye on her.

Then Lady Celeste stepped forward.

“Your Grace, surely this isn’t wise.”

Adrian looked at her.

“No.”

His voice was quiet.

“What wasn’t wise was believing I would remain silent.”

He turned toward the assembled guests.

“Tonight, you have all heard a story about Miss Ashcombe’s family.”

Nobody moved.

Adrian held up the documents.

“I have personally examined the records.”

A murmur moved through the room.

“The allegations being repeated about her father are false.”

Celeste’s face changed.

Only slightly.

But Beatrice saw it.

Adrian continued.

“Not merely exaggerated.”

He paused.

“Manufactured.”

The room went completely silent.

Then he looked directly at Beatrice.

“You were told that your family name was something to hide.”

He extended his hand.

“It isn’t.”

Beatrice stared at him.

Then slowly placed her hand in his.

Adrian turned back to the county.

“And anyone who wishes to repeat the rumor may first explain it to me.”

No one spoke.

Not one person.

The same people who had whispered behind Beatrice’s back now stood frozen beneath the chandeliers.

Adrian had not defended her with empty romance.

He had defended her with facts.

With evidence.

With the full weight of his name.

But there was one thing neither of them knew yet.

The documents Adrian had uncovered proved the rumor was false.

They did not reveal who had created it.

And as Lady Celeste stood motionless at the edge of the ballroom, one truth became painfully clear.

She had not lost.

Not yet.

Because the cruelest part of the scheme had never been the rumor.

It was the secret hidden beneath it.

A secret about Beatrice’s father.

A secret powerful enough to threaten not only her future—

but the Duke himself.