Victoria held her breath as Benedict walked further into the dining chamber. Her head bowed as she could not bring herself to et his gaze.
Now it truly felt as though Rosalie had laid an ambush.
"I’m waiting," Benedict said, moving along the right side of the table. He ca to a stop behind Rosalie’s chair and rested a hand on her back. "Rosalie. Who is having a child with whom?"
"Those two. They were having an affair right here in my ho," Rosalie said, her tears beginning to spill.
Benedict’s gaze settled on Cole first. "You cheated on my daughter, and sohow you seem to think this ho belongs to you, that you may do as you please within it. It is in my daughter’s na alone, and she has asked you to leave."
"Your Grace, it is not as it seems-"
"Save the excuses and the lies. I have no interest in hearing them," Benedict said, his eyes not leaving Cole. "Rosalie, you may leave if you wish. I shall handle this in your place."
Rosalie pressed her fingers beneath her eyes, clearing the tears before looking up. "No. I want to stay. I will not cower or be moved from where I sit. This is my ho."
Benedict adjusted the glove on his hand with quiet precision. "You have so nerve to disrespect my daughter."
Cole stepped back as Benedict ca around to his side of the table. "Your Grace, I can explain myself. You with your little standing."
"Gerald," Benedict called, his voice carrying easily to the guard waiting just outside the chamber.
Cole turned towards the door. He knew the man well. Gerald, who was never far from Benedict’s side, entered the chamber.
"Fetch my gun," Benedict instructed.
Cole’s eyes went wide.
There were still maids present in the room, yet Benedict spoke of a gun as though ordering tea.
Gerald turned and made his way back to the carriage.
"Y-Your Grace," Cole stuttered, edging closer to the door. "I did not an to suggest the ho was mine."
"I heard you clearly. You spoke with such confidence when it was only my daughter, yet now your words change. Be as bold as you were when it was just the two of you," Benedict said, his voice calm, as Cole was not worth raising his voice.
Benedict’s anger ran deeper than the affair alone. Cole had behaved as though he held power over Rosalie, as though it wasn’t Benedict himself who had given Cole every opportunity he had ever enjoyed, all of it for Rosalie’s sake.
Victoria remained seated, barely breathing, hoping that stillness might cause her to be overlooked. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress as she tried to think of any way out of this mont.
When she finally dared to look up, she found Rosalie already watching her.
"Are you with child?" Rosalie asked, her gaze burning with a quiet fury. "After sitting beside and telling what a wonderful mother I would make, did you go and carry his child? I already know the truth. I want to hear you say it."
"We didn’t an for it to happen. You were ill and struggling, and we were both frightened for you. In a mont of weakness, we turned to each other. We were both remorseful afterwards," Victoria confessed, tears slipping free. Her chest ached at the sight of Rosalie on the verge of breaking.
"Ha!" Rosalie let out a short, hollow laugh. "You continued to entertain each other and expect to understand? If you were truly remorseful, you would have confessed and put a stop to it. And I would have been foolish enough to forgive you."
"You sat across from , listening to go on and on about how much I loved him and longed for a child. You disrespected , and I shall always hate you for it," Rosalie said, her voice quiet now.
"I am sorry," Victoria said, but the apology ant nothing now. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t bear to lose you. I never planned for any of this. I had been keeping my distance from him so I could find a husband and move on."
"Are you with child? You still have not answered ," Rosalie said, setting aside everything else Victoria had said.
"I don’t know. It is too soon to be certain. I only wondered if there was a chance," Victoria admitted.
She looked to Cole, waiting. Why was he always silent when faced with the consequences of his own doing? He was the one who had tried to keep sothing going that should never have started, so he ought to have had the most to say.
"I hope you are."
Rosalie’s words stilled the room. "It shall serve as a reminder of what you have done. Every ti you look at that child, you will see my face and rember what you did to bring them into this world."
Rosalie let her hands relax against the table, sothing in her loosening as she released any remaining care for either of them.
"The child will have their father. You should marry him and raise your family together, but do not, for even a mont, think you will use my wealth to do it. Cole will leave this marriage with exactly what he brought into it."
"Nothing," Benedict said quietly, finishing the thought for her.
What Victoria did not know was that Benedict had his own plans for Cole. Plans that would leave no father to raise any child.
"Father, these are all his people. He dismissed the maids we chose and replaced them with his own. Be careful," Rosalie warned Benedict.
"There is nothing to fear, Rosalie," Benedict said, his expression easing slightly as Gerald reappeared in the doorway and placed the gun in his hand.
"Rosalie, my dear. I still love you," Cole said, his voice softening as he attempted to reach her. "What happened with Victoria was a mistake. I did not try to continue it. At the ball, she ca to in secret-"
"That is not true!" Victoria’s voice was sharp. "You ca to . You asked to give you ti and said that we could find a way to be together. I refused. I told you I wanted to find a husband and be done with it. You kissed in the palace gardens."
Rosalie’s laughter broke across the chamber. "Look at the two of you, each trying to co out of this looking better than the other. You are equally awful, and I want nothing more to do with either of you." She looked to her father. "Please get him out of my sight and out of my ho. I want a divorce."
Before Cole could object, Benedict raised the gun and levelled it at him.
"Co with ," Benedict said.
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