Page 48 of Duke of Eccess (Seven Dukes of Sin #4)

Everything around Temperance began unfolding slowly, like in a nightmare.

She was in Octavius’s arms one moment, and the next, her stepmother was screaming and stabbing her finger at her, Bartholomew at her side.

The ballroom was full of members of the ton, the Regent himself, Lord Liverpool, and now they all knew she was the Mad Heiress…

But it was so, so much worse than that. The people she had come to think of as her friends—the six dukes, the three duchesses, they now all knew she’d deceived them…

But most devastatingly, the small circle she’d come to think of as family, the three precious children and Octavius, the man she loved, now knew she’d been lying to them this whole time. Of course, James had accepted her when he learned the truth. But could the others forgive her as easily?

Octavius stepped away, frowning at her in confusion, as though he was trying to see her through a screen of fog. “I must have misheard. What did she say?”

“This is my stepdaughter,” exclaimed Lady Auster, marching forward triumphantly. “Lady Agatha Hale. She’s unwell—we’ve been looking for her for weeks to get her the help she needs.”

“You’re Lady Agatha Hale,” Octavius said slowly as panic numbed her limbs. “The Mad Heiress…”

People were gathering around them and the music had stopped. Shocked, curious faces looked on, many with exultant malice—those who were just here for the gossip.

But the most important faces to her were the ones with heartbreak on them. Octavius, Margaret, and Sophie. James took a place by her side and slipped his hand protectively into hers. Even the footmen and Jacobs broke the expected etiquette of appearing invisible and stared at her openly.

“You are wrong, Lady Auster,” James said, sounding like a young man and not a boy. “Lady Agatha is not mad at all.”

Temperance’s whole body tingled as though she were full of glowing, electrified mercury. This sweet boy, ever the protector… A gift she didn’t feel she deserved.

Bartholomew stepped closer, his baby face vicious. “You don’t know what you are talking about, young man.”

“She must have poisoned his young brain with her words, Your Grace,” snarled her stepmother.

“You’ve had her as your governess this whole time.

Can you fathom what evil she could have taught to your wards?

How she must have twisted their minds with all that nonsense about electric fluid, and mercury, and God knows what else—she is a danger to them! ”

Octavius shook his head in bewilderment.

Temperance swiftly turned to him. “I can explain. I?—”

But he continued shaking his head, emotions crossing his face from confusion to understanding. “Is…is that why you were running away that first night in Clerkenwell?”

Lady Auster nodded energetically. “Yes, yes, precisely. She’s been running away from proper medical care. She should be in the asylum, being cared for and treated. She’s a danger!”

The Regent cleared his throat. “Eccess, you’ve been harboring the Mad Heiress in your home?”

No! No, this was all going wrong—but Octavius was swallowing. “I suppose I have.”

“So you knew ,” stated Lord Liverpool in wonder. “You knew all along.”

“Of course he knew!” James interrupted. “His grace has known who Miss Fields really is for weeks. He said he’d protect her no matter what!”

Octavius’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. Could she dare hope he’d forgive her, even though she knew she didn’t deserve it?

“And you did not inform me of this?” Lord Liverpool had turned to the older woman, a glare in his eye. “You withheld vital information—why? Explain yourself, woman!”

Clearly Lady Auster did not appreciate his tone, but one hardly chastised a prime minister.

She cleared her throat and said timidly, “Why, I was afraid she’d poisoned the mind of Duke of Eccess so much he wouldn’t see reason.

And…well…everyone knows the influence the Seven Dukes of Sin possess in this country.

After the Duke of Enveigh brought Lady Agatha’s letter to her solicitor in secret, I knew he was under her spell as well.

But surely it’s better this way, my lord, now it’s all in the open and everyone can witness the truth about Lady Agatha. ”

“So you were covering for the Mad Heiress, Eccess,” said Lord Liverpool, “this whole time, knowing she’s been hiding from her family, needing the asylum?

When I specifically told you any scandal connected to your name would not be favorable.

We cannot have a president of the Board of Trade connected to—to madwomen and false identities. ”

Humiliation heated Temperance’s cheeks. The judgment and resentment in people’s eyes shrank her to a tiny speck of dust under their feet.

She hadn’t just ruined her own life, she had brought scandal and personal devastation to Octavius—and to the children.

After this, their lives would be forever tainted by association with her.

Octavius swallowed hard and looked at Temperance.

Color had drained from his handsome face, leaving him pale as snow, his honey hair suddenly dark.

His massive frame seemed to shrink, and for a moment, the powerful Duke of Eccess appeared utterly broken—a giant brought low by a deadly blow, shoulders curving inward.

He stared like she was a stranger to him, not someone he’d shared tears, pleasure, intimate secrets with, someone he’d just asked her to be his wife.

“Have you…” Octavius began in a low voice, looking her over. “Have you really needed…help?”

He might as well have struck her. He knew her like no one else—not her real name, but everything else she’d ever told him was true. Her very heart, her very soul…

“The danger to the children…” he murmured low, intended only for her ears. “Insisting I ruin you, lying about your name…when after all we’ve been through, the rational thing would be to tell me the truth and ask for my protection… Are you truly unwell?”

The betrayal hit Temperance in her stomach, knocking all air—all life—out of her.

He had every right to be cross with her for lying…

But this? Doubting her sanity because of her choices?

She agreed putting the children in danger was reckless and she regretted it like nothing else, but that didn’t mean she was insane!

“Insisting on ruin?” asked Enveigh, who had somehow managed to come closer than everyone else, looking between them. “Good God, Octavius, have you ruin—you damned boar!” His fists clenched till his knuckles whitened.

“She must have poisoned your mind, Your Grace,” said Lady Auster.

“Otherwise you would have reported her to her family, knowing her identity. Anyone reasonable knows a woman engaging in dangerous explorations of lightning and hurting people, creating electricity out of thin air…it’s madness.

You must come with us, Agatha dear. We’re leaving right now. ”

Panic flared in Temperance’s gut, her hand clinging on to James. No—no, they wouldn’t take her!

“Lady Agatha, enough of this running from your healing,” said her stepmother smartly.

“We have a carriage waiting for you that is already set for Bedlam. The doctor who issued the petition of lunacy is waiting for you already, and I have an order from a magistrate as well.” She retrieved two papers from her reticule and showed them to the Regent, Lord Liverpool, and then to Octavius.

A magistrate… Temperance hadn’t realized her stepmother and Bartholomew had actually gone as far as a magistrate.

Octavius snatched both documents and read them, eyebrows drawn deeply over his eyes, and Temperance’s whole body began to shake.

She’d been so close! She needed only to wait until tomorrow, and then somehow get to Mr. Barton’s office and sign that paper.

That would be her freedom, her inheritance, her independence.

This would all be over then—but then, of course, so would her little heaven that she’d unexpectedly found in the house of the Duke of Eccess.

She couldn’t let them do this.

Temperance took a step back, fumbling at her bodice.

Hidden there every day since she had retrieved it, the pawn ticket was an invisible weapon she’d carried.

The letter with the copy had been sent the day after the storm stopped; it must have reached them by now. It was their choice now how to respond.

It was more desperation than confidence that had her holding the pawn ticket before her like a blade. Maybe someone would believe her—perhaps Enveigh, who had known the truth this whole time.

“If you force me into that carriage,” Temperance said, her voice shaking, “I will tell the world of what you’ve done, Langston.”

The ticket was folded, but she saw real fear flash in both Lady Auster’s and her nephew’s faces.

Bartholomew shook his head slowly. “Madness. Ramblings. The accusations of a madwoman have no merit.”

Temperance began to unfold the ticket to show it to someone—the Regent, Liverpool…anyone. “A copy is also with my solicitor. You must let me go now, or I will tell the world about?—”

But she didn’t even finish. Bartholomew took two large steps, grabbed the paper from her hands, and tore it into tiny pieces.

As she watched the white pieces fall on the shiny floor, the world careened under her feet.

No one but Enveigh and James believed her.

The pawn ticket and her letter had no power.

Everyone would believe she was mad and had manufactured the whole thing.

After all, a woman would always be branded a liar when a man who was more physically powerful, and whose opinion and decisions were the only things that had any weight in modern world stood against her.

“As I said,” Bartholomew repeated, “the mad ramblings of an ill woman who doesn’t know what she is talking about.”

“Step away from her.” Enveigh growled and stepped closer to her, forcing Bartholomew to move aside as Temperance gasped.

“You had no right to do that before the document could be examined. There’s a copy with Mr. Barton so you should still be afraid.

I’ve known Lady Agatha for years and I can confirm there’s nothing mad about her. ”

Temperance’s gaze connected with Octavius’s.

He wasn’t the one believing her, protecting her.

The Duke of Enveigh had been her true friend all along.

Perhaps his offer of marriage had been made out of necessity, but their friendship had been real.

Had she accepted the Duke of Enveigh’s offer, he wouldn’t have locked her into an asylum; he’d gain her inheritance, but he wouldn’t have deprived her of her freedom.

Her running would have been over.

And yet Temperance’s heart bled for Octavius, not for Enveigh, no matter how convenient that marriage would have been.

She wanted Octavius to believe her and stand up for her.

She’d let him teach her passion, let herself be seduced by temptation and have a taste of his life of pleasure… but she was a fool.

It just proved—once again—that she couldn’t rely on anyone but herself.

Lady Auster scoffed and looked at Enveigh. “Your Grace, with the history of female madness running in your family, I wouldn’t be so sure to trust your judgment.”

Temperance saw the physical pain in Archibald’s face from the venomous jab. She knew all too well how hurtful Lady Auster’s bite could be.

Lord Liverpool frowned at Enveigh. “Your Grace, I understand your noble intentions to protect the weaker sex, but this paper, signed by a respectable doctor, clearly states that Lady Agatha Hale is unwell. You must see that if her stepmother, her legal guardian, thinks it’s best for her to be treated, then that is what must be done. ”

Enveigh shook his head and started to argue with the prime minister, but as the conversation continued, Temperance realized with a terrible dread that once again, she was alone in this world. No one could help her anymore. All she could do was what she’d been doing this entire time.

Run .

While Bartholomew, Lady Auster, Lord Liverpool, and Enveigh argued, Temperance lifted her skirts and darted towards the doors.

She’d expected the footmen standing by the doors to stop her, but they must have heard everything. They opened the doors for her in solemn solidarity and closed them behind her.

December cold pierced through her in needles. Cries and quick steps sounded from inside the house but Temperance didn’t stop. She just ran.

She slipped down the icy steps and almost fell. She was without a pelisse, without a bonnet, without her runaway bag. And there was just one place where she could go: back to Whitechapel, to the almshouse where Grace had helped her before, where now, no one would ever find her.

Away from the man she loved, away from the children who’d become her family.

She’d lied to them all and she didn’t deserve them.

But perhaps Octavius did not deserve her, either. He hadn’t stood by her when she needed him.

Just as she’d feared, as soon as she let someone into her heart, they betrayed her.