Vale stared at him. At last, he took the pen Mr. Howard offered. His signature was stiff and hurried.
When he departed, James remained beside the desk until the sound of the carriage faded from the drive. He had expected satisfaction; instead, he felt the uncomfortable weight of understanding how much sooner he might have acted.
That afternoon, James walked to the Carter forge. Samuel was working beside the fire when he arrived.
"Your Grace."
"Mr. Carter, may I speak with your daughter?"
Samuel studied him. "If she wishes it."
Emma emerged from the adjoining workroom, her sleeves rolled to her elbows. She stopped when she saw James. He removed his hat.
"I have dismissed Captain Vale under the terms of his agreement. His accusations against you have been withdrawn in writing."
Emma's expression remained guarded. "I'm glad the truth has been established."
"Mr. Bell and Mr. Pritchard have confirmed the problem with Storm's saddle. Thomas will oversee his care, and there will be no riding until Bell considers him fully recovered."
Her shoulders eased. "Thank you for telling me."
James stepped no closer. "I should have protected the working conditions I promised you. I should never have allowed you to defend your reputation alone."
Emma looked toward the glowing forge. "You cannot prevent every cruel remark, James."
"No, but I could have made certain that cruelty carried consequences in my own establishment." She turned back to him. "And you have?"
He drew a careful breath. "I came for another reason as well. I love you, Emma. I love the way you speak the truth even when it costs you. I love your patience with Storm, your devotion to your father, and the way you remind me that kindness requires action."
Her fingers tightened around the cloth in her hand. "James—"
"You owe me nothing: not your employment, your forgiveness, or your affection. I would be honored if you chose to return, but only on terms that respect your work and independence." He paused. "And if you would rather remain here, I shall respect that, too."
For a long moment, the only sound was the soft roar of the forge. Emma stepped toward him.
"I love you," she whispered. "But I will not become a duchess who must pretend she has never held a hammer."