The consequences came quickly. The Society Sheet printed a retraction when threatened with legal action. Invitations to the Bellamys became scarce. Hargrove agreed to testify regarding the missing estate funds, and evidence suggested Edmund had been living abroad under another name.
Yet Alexander did not go to Bath, not immediately. For 12 days, he restored accounts, arranged repayments to tenants, and ensured Whitmore could survive without Bellamy money. Only when the work was finished did he board a coach west.
In Bath, Ellie knew none of this until a newspaper arrived at breakfast. She read Alexander's statement twice. Then, she saw the financial notice beneath it announcing the sale of his London property. Her hand covered her mouth.
Mrs. Carter glanced toward the window. "Ellie? What?"
"There is a gentleman outside."
Ellie stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor. Across the rain-darkened street, Alexander waited beside a carriage. He carried no flowers, no marriage contract, no ducal entourage, only a small wicker basket. Ellie stepped outside without her cloak.
Alexander looked at her for a long moment. "You told me to notice," he said. "I did."
Ellie's eyes dropped to the basket. "What is that?"
Alexander opened it. Inside were a teapot, two cups, and a small loaf of bread. "The first time you stayed," he said quietly, "you gave me what I needed before I knew enough to ask for it." He lifted one cup and stopped. "This time, I intend to ask."
Alexander held the cup between them but did not move closer. Rain darkened the shoulders of his coat. Ellie stood on Mrs. Carter's front step in the thin morning chill staring at the absurd little tea service as though it contained something far more dangerous than porcelain.
"Ask what?" she said.
Alexander's eyes lifted to hers. "Whether I may come inside."
Ellie almost laughed. Of all the things she had expected from the Duke of Whitmore, requesting permission to enter a modest Bath townhouse had not been among them. She stepped aside. "You may."
Mrs. Carter took one look at Alexander, the basket, and Ellie's face before disappearing upstairs with astonishing efficiency.
In the small parlor, Alexander arranged the cups himself. His large hands looked strangely uncertain around the delicate handles.
"You sold the London house." Ellie said.
"I instructed my solicitor to sell it."
"And the racing stable?"
"Yes."
"The Sussex land?"
"Yes."
Ellie watched him cut the loaf. "You shouldn't have done that because of me."
The knife stopped. "I didn't."
She frowned. "Alexander, you were right about something I did not want to hear."
He set the knife down. "I was prepared to protect Whitmore by sacrificing everything except the things that belonged to me personally. The tenants could endure higher rents. The household could accept reductions. I could marry a woman I did not love." His mouth tightened. "All while my houses, horses, and private lands remained untouched."
Ellie said nothing.
"You did not create that failure." He continued. "You made me see it."
The room settled around them. Rain whispered against the window.
"And Sophia?" Ellie asked.
"I sent her away."
"Again?"
"I seem to be developing a talent for it."
A smile escaped Ellie before she could prevent it. Alexander saw it and the tension in his shoulders eased.
"Her family planted the stories about you." He said. "We found the correspondence among Hargrove's papers. It has been made public. The society sheet issued a retraction."
Ellie's smile vanished. "You defended me publicly?"
"I presented the truth publicly, knowing Bellamy would withdraw his guarantees."
"Yes."
"And if the sales had not covered the loans?"
Alexander looked down at his untouched tea. "Then I would have found another way."
Ellie's fingers tightened around her cup. "You make sacrifice sound simple."
"It wasn't." His voice lowered. "That is why it mattered."
For a moment neither spoke. Then Ellie asked the question that had followed her all the way to Bath. "Why did you wait 12 days?"
Alexander looked surprised. "I thought you would come immediately."
"I nearly did."
"What stopped you?"
He leaned back. "You."
Ellie's brow furrowed. "Your letter said you would not let me choose you if choosing you meant losing Whitmore. If I had followed you that morning and demanded you return, I would have been doing exactly what I did the first time. Telling me to stay."
"Yes." His eyes held hers. "I needed to make certain Whitmore was safe before I asked you for anything."
The word 'asked' settled warmly between them. Ellie looked at the bread, the tea, his rain-damp coat. "And what are you asking now?"
Alexander rose. He came around the table, but stopped several feet away. No command, no assumption. "Come back to Whitmore."
Ellie's heart pulled painfully. "As what?"
His expression changed. "Not my accountant."
"Good. The wages were dreadful."
"You were never paid."
"Exactly."
His laugh was soft and brief. Then seriousness returned. "Not as your aunt's assistant. Not as someone useful enough to keep nearby." He took one careful step closer. "Come back because the library is empty without you. Because I still look toward the tea table when I enter a room. Because every question I have seems less important until I know what you think of it."