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Sebastian let out a sharp breath, anger prickling over his skin. He had never had much regard for Bertram Hargreaves, but this …

“What did she do?”

Richard’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “With nowhere to go and no means of support, at her age, and with her reputation, there were not many options open to her. She was with Lord Lowe and one step away from ending up in a bawdy house.”

Sebastian’s stomach turned.

“And Harriet?”

Richard leaned back, running a hand through his hair.

“Lady Slight was outraged. She refused to let it stand. She searched for Belinda relentlessly for weeks, even going so far as to brave her father’s house to demand answers.

When I gave the address, she promptly called on her and offered her an escape.

And Belinda chose dignity over despair.”

Sophia’s voice was softer as she added, “That wretch, Lowe, had already laid hands on her, so when Lady Slight offered her a position as a lady’s maid, she took it.”

Sebastian sat back, processing this new information.

He had known Harriet was stubborn. He had known she could be reckless. But this … this was different.

“She knew,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “She knew taking Miss Cooper in would create trouble for her. That Hargreaves would confront her, but she did it anyway.”

Richard nodded. “She did, despite doing her best to avoid Hargreaves these past years,” he confirmed. “Because she thought what he had done was very wrong, and for Miss Cooper, she was willing to put up with the troubles it would bring.”

Sebastian exhaled through his nose. He should have expected nothing less.

That was Harriet, after all.

A force of nature. A woman who, for all her faults, had a mind of her own. But antagonizing her father? That showed a new level of courage she had not displayed before. The mere thought of upsetting him had been sufficient to make her tremble with anxiety as a girl.

A memory surfaced—Harriet as a girl, demanding that they stop to free a bird that had caught its foot in a snare.

She had gone pale at the sight of the creature’s frantic struggle, and when they had freed it, she had nearly wept.

That was the girl he had loved. And now, it seemed, that girl was still there, buried beneath the mistakes and the lies and the years that had divided them.

Sebastian ran a hand down his face, releasing a slow breath. He had driven her off with his fury in Hyde Park, convinced she was having an affair with Richard. But now, as the truth unfolded before him, that certainty began to crumble.

Damn her. Damn himself.

He had to see her.

Belinda, who had remained mostly silent, now set down her teacup with a deliberate clink and met Harriet’s gaze with a steady, knowing air.

“You think he is different, but men are all the same, my lady,” she said, her voice calm but edged with something raw, something deeply personal.

“Even when you love them, even when you give them everything, they cannot be trusted. They will cast you aside when it suits them, and all your years of devotion will be for naught.”

Harriet winced at the bitterness in her tone. She knew what had been done to Belinda—how she had spent over a decade loving Bertram Hargreaves only to be discarded like an old glove the moment she no longer suited him.

Belinda had every right to believe as she did.

And yet …

Harriet’s mind turned to Sebastian.

His strength. His honor.

His unwavering, maddening, steadfast regard for her.

Through everything—through her betrayal all those years ago, through her scheming, through the lies and half-truths—he had still looked at her as though she was the girl he had loved. The girl he had once dreamed of making his wife.

It had taken only a few days for her to see the light of admiration return to his eyes since their recent reunion.

She swallowed hard.

“I have but one complaint about Lord Sebastian,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “And that is his lack of trust.”

The words settled over the room, a quiet, undeniable truth.

Finch huffed. “A man oughta trust th’ woman ’e means t’ marry, or ’e ain’t worth the trouble.”

But Harriet shook her head.

“No.” Her voice was stronger now, conviction taking root inside her. “I cannot fault him for it. It is I who lied, who hid the truth or bent it. I am the cause of his distrust.”

A breath shuddered through her as realization struck deep, shaking loose the last fragile justifications that tied her down.

“And it is I who must apologize to him.”

A hush fell over the room.

Harriet lifted her chin, her pulse thundering in her ears.

She had started on this path after Lily’s heartfelt words, not a curse, but a blessing.

And she had thought at the end of this road, however painful or difficult it may be, she might find someone for herself as Lily had.

As that mouse who had married Perry had.

But now she realized what she must have known all along.

She did not want someone like Sebastian.

There was no one like Sebastian.

She wanted Sebastian.

With all her heart.

She wanted to undo the mistakes of yesteryear and tumble into his arms. And stay there. Forever. As she should have done on that St. Valentine’s Day.

But after all she had done to him, how could she ever win his trust? She did not even trust herself. Why should he?

The thought sent a wave of desperation through her.

No.

She would not let him slip away. Not again. She surged to her feet, fists clenched at her sides, resolve burning bright in her chest.

“I shall throw myself at his feet and beg him to take me back!” she declared, her voice shaking but firm.

And then?—

A voice from the doorway. Low, familiar. Steady as bedrock.

“No begging necessary, Harry,” Sebastian said, stepping into the room, his broad frame filling the doorway and conveying such adoration that she was stunned into incredulity. “You have always had me. And you always will.”

Harriet gasped.

The world narrowed to him, standing there, looking at her as if nothing else existed. As if she had never shattered his heart. As if she had never once driven him away.

Her throat closed, emotion rising so swiftly it nearly knocked her breath away.

Sebastian was here. He was here. He had come for her.

And, in that moment, Harriet believed anything was possible. Even the possibility of forgiveness for a worthless life.