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She had not wanted to tell him this tonight. Oh, how she had tried to avoid it. Now she knew there was no point in lying further, even if she was beginning to feel rather foolish, dressed the way she was, for it looked like that would be a pointless endeavor.

“I was going to tell you,” she sighed.

“Tell me what?”

“I just did not want you to get upset.” She forced herself to look up and meet his eyes, so he might see how sorry she was. “That is why I did not say anything right away.”

“And why would I get upset?”

“It is my aunt,” she began carefully, grimacing as she considered how to phrase it. “It seems that she is still a little upset over what occurred between you and Selina.”

“Upset how?” A low growl rumbled in his chest.

“She is… According to my sister, she is going around the ton, telling people that it was Selina who canceled the wedding and not you.” She winced in anticipation of his outburst, but his set jaw and narrowed eyes told her that he was doing what he couldto remain calm. “Further to that point, she did so for—well, according to my sister, she did so for many reasons. Mostly to do with the type of man that you are.”

“Go on,” he growled.

“And… and…” She hesitated, for she could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. “And she’s been telling people that our marriage was one of desperation. That you only agreed to it at the last minute to save face—but nobody is going to believe that,” she added quickly. “Surely, who would believe such a thing?”

Frederick did not respond right away. Standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed, his eyes steely, he stared into the void, his jaw clenched, his foot tapping, his face turning red. She could see the cogs in his mind turning as he tried his best to remain calm… or so she thought.

“Your aunt… she is… she has gone too far.”

“And everyone will know it,” she assured him. “Anyone who has met my aunt will know that she is lying.”

“It does not matter,” he continued carefully, still looking past her. “Once the rumor is out there, it will gather momentum. Regardless of the folly.”

“Let it, then,” Hannah said. “Who cares what people think? It does not matter if they?—”

“Of course, it does!” Frederick snapped, and she flinched. “Of course, it matters! How can you think overwise?! Your aunt is slandering my name, smearing my reputation. Everyone who hears this—this filth!—even if they do not believe it, they will wonder. They will consider. They willtalk! True or not, the very fact that it is spoken of at all is a slight against me. And you, for that matter!”

He was seething, his face turning puce, his body shaking.

“Perhaps… perhaps if we were to… to disprove the rumor?” she tried next, her voice quivering. “If we tell people that we are happy and there is no truth to it. If we tell them the true reason why?—”

“I will not be drawn into a war of words with your aunt,” Frederick hissed. He was not angry with her, she knew, but that seemed irrelevant. “It is undignified and beneath me. My name alone should be enough that people do not question it!”

“And they won’t!”

“They will,” he seethed. “Or else your sister would not have come. No doubt she heard the rumor secondhand.”

“Then we visit my aunt together,” Hannah suggested. “If we speak to her and ask that she stop?—”

“Grovel? You wish for me to grovel at your aunt’s feet like… like some pauper?! Is that what you think of me?”

“I am just trying to help.”

“You are not helping!” he snarled, and again she flinched. “This entire thing…” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair as he began to pace. “This will only get worse. I know this town, these people. If there is any chance to drag down someone above them, they will not hesitate.”

“I am sorry,” she mumbled. “Truly. I am sorry, Frederick. This should not be happening.”

He shook his head, his back to her now. “This is your fault.” That stung. It felt like a slap in the face. Personal and purposefully mean. “If you had not come into my room that night…” Another shake of the head.

Hannah didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Frederick was spiraling, and she knew that any attempts to placate him would only make things worse. She wanted to go to him. To hold him. To tell him there was no need to be upset. A part of her still wondered if she should try to salvage the night, for surely it was not completely ruined?

“You should go,” he spoke, still not looking at her.

“G-go?” Her voice trembled. “But I can help. If you will just let me, I can?—”