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"You'll find a way," Graham said, and it wasn't a question.

The scrape of a key in the lock signaled their time was up. Hodge's sour face appeared in the doorway, lantern held high.

"Time's up. Out."

Abigail moved toward Graham, desperate for some final connection, but he stepped back, his expression closing like a door slammed shut.

"Get her out of here," he said, his voice flat and cold.

He needed space more than solace. Pride more than pity.

If stepping away is the price of his dignity, I’ll pay it—bleeding all the way.

She kept her head up and eyes dry as Elias guided her toward the door. At the threshold, she turned back.

“You’re not alone, Graham.”

Graham's only response was a curt nod before he turned away, retreating to the corner where they'd found him.The door shut with a finality that echoed through her ribs. Like a heartbeat turned to stone.

"This way," Hodge said, already moving back toward the entrance.

Abigail planted her feet, forcing the men to stop. "No."

They turned to stare at her.

"Your Grace," Elias began, his tone cajoling.

"I'm staying right here." She stepped back toward Graham's cell door, placing her hand against the rough wood.

Hodge's face darkened. "Now see here?—"

"I will not leave him alone in this place."

"By God, I've had enough of pushy nobs for one night," Hodge exploded.

Abigail exchanged a glance with Elias. "What do you mean?"

"First you two, now another pair of dukes in my office demanding access." Hodge threw up his hands. "This ain’t a bloody tea house for the titled."

Hope flared bright in Abigail's chest. "My brothers-in-law."

Elias was already moving. "Take me to them. Now."

Hodge hesitated, looking between them.

"You can't stay here," Hodge said, advancing on her,his expression thunderous.

"I'm afraid I must." Abigail held her ground.

Hodge reached for her arm. "Come along now?—"

Before his hand could close around her wrist, Abigail slid down the wall to sit on the floor, her skirts billowing around her. The move—learned from countless standoffs with recalcitrant children at Beacon House—caught Hodge entirely off guard.

"What in blazes are you doing?"

"Making myself comfortable," Abigail said, arranging her sodden skirts. "I'm staying right here until my husband is released. And I should warn you, Mr. Hodge, I'm as stubborn as a mule and nearly as heavy when I choose to be."

From the other side of the door came a low, rough laugh. Hodge stared at the door, then at Abigail, clearly at a loss.