Every part of Graham’s body tensed. Beside him, Diana made a soft sound of distress.
“I refused him and he became enraged. The duke tore at my bodice, and pressed against the bookshelf. He tried to…” Augusta couldn’t finish the sentence, her voice catching. “I managed to break free from him, and I ran. I ran as fast as I could through the garden and then out into the street. Charles—Graham’s father—was on horseback and saw me there. He…”
Lady Harrowby’s expression had shifted to one of horror, and her eyes had become watery. “And he saved you?”
“He stopped to help me, and I couldn’t speak. I just cried in his arms. But my dress was torn, and he surmised what must have occurred.” Augusta’s tears flowed freely now. “But someone saw us, when Charles was comforting me. They called me a lightskirt and ran back into the ball.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lady Harrowby’s voice was anguished. “I could have—”
“Could have what?” Augusta’s voice grew stronger, anger mixing with her pain. “Forced me to marry my attacker? You were so set on the match, so proud that a duke wanted me. You kept saying we could smooth over the scandal, that the duke would still have me despite the gossip. I couldn’t bear to tell you what he’d truly done. I was so ashamed.”
Graham sat in stunned silence, watching his entire understanding of his father reshape itself. The man he’d thought was a callous seducer had actually been a hero. His parents’ marriage hadn’t been born of lust and scandal, but of protection and desperate necessity.
“So Father married you to save your reputation,” Graham said slowly and hoarsely.
Augusta nodded, wiping her eyes with a trembling hand. “He was honorable. He knew I’d be ruined otherwise, that no decent man would have me after such gossip. But we never loved each other, not in that way. We were grateful to each other, respectful, but we remained strangers bound by circumstance. When he began seeking comfort elsewhere…” She shrugged helplessly. “I couldn’t blame him entirely. We were both trapped in a marriage neither of us had chosen.”
“But he saved you,” Diana said softly. “Whatever came after, in that moment, he saved you.”
“Yes.” Augusta looked at Graham, her eyes pleading for understanding. “Your father wasn’t the villain you believed him to be, my son. He was flawed, yes. The marriage was unhappy, yes. But he wasn’t evil. And he gave me you. He did his best in an impossible situation.”
The emotion threatened to overtake him. All these years of hating his father’s behavior, of fearing he’d inherit some inescapable corruption from the man, and he was able to see the man much differently.
Lady Harrowby finally closed the distance to her daughter, her movements uncertain. “May I?”
Augusta nodded, and Lady Harrowby pulled her into her arms. “My dear, brave girl. My foolish, courageous daughter. If I had known… If that monster Yorkshire weren’t already dead, I would promise that I would kill him myself.”
Augusta clung to her mother, sobbing harder than he’d ever seen. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry I stayed away.”
“No.” Lady Harrowby pulled back, cupping her daughter’s face with both hands. “I’m sorry. I should have suspected that something was amiss. Should have protected you better. Should have known you wouldn’t throw everything away without reason. I failed you.”
Graham stood frozen, watching his mother and grandmother embrace. Everything he had believed about his family, about himself,had been turned upside down. He wasn’t entirely different from his father in some ways. They were both fierce protectors, and ended up in marriages based on circumstances.
“Graham.” Diana’s gentle voice drew his attention. She was looking up at him with understanding and love. “Are you all right?”
Was he? His father was still flawed, and had still hurt his mother with his infidelities. But now Graham understood it differently. Two people trapped in a marriage built on gratitude and obligation rather than love, both suffering in their own ways. That could have been the story for him and Diana if things hadn’t have worked out much differently.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough.
Diana stood, wavering slightly, and he immediately steadied her. “Your father saved your mother,” she whispered where only he could hear. “Whatever came after, in that moment, he chose to protect her at great personal cost. That matters.”
She was right. It did matter. It changed everything Graham had believed about himself, about the legacy he carried.
“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Graham murmured, thinking of their own marriage born from scandal. “History repeats itself.”
“No.” Diana’s voice was firm. “We’re writing our own story. We found love despite the circumstances. That’s what makes us different.”
Lady Harrowby approached them, Augusta at her side, both women’s faces still streaked with tears. “Graham,” his grandmother said, and the word held such weight. “My grandson. I’ve wanted to acknowledge you since the moment I realized who you were.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I thought Augusta had… well, I thought you knew and chose not to acknowledge me as your family.”
Graham looked at his mother. “You never told me who your parents were. I assumed they were dead.”
“I was wrong for that,” Augusta said, cupping his cheek. “The girl Iwas—Lady Augusta Harrowby—she ceased to exist the night I fled with your father. I became someone else. Someone smaller, quieter. Someone hidden from the world.”
“No more hiding,” Lady Harrowby declared. “No more separation. We’re family, all of us.”
