“Openly and without shame.”
“I admit the truth, as for shame. I am ashamed of many things. I am ashamed that I was too cowardly to wed their mother when she was alive. I am ashamed that I spent yearsavoiding my responsibilities to them. I am ashamed that it took me so long to become the father they deserved.” Rhys met Arthur’s gaze without flinching.
“But I am not ashamed of them. I will never be ashamed of them. They are brilliant and fierce and remarkable, and any man would be proud to call them his own.”
“They are illegitimate, born out of wedlock.”
The word hung in the air, ugly and deliberate. Arthur had meant it to wound, to remind everyone present of the social stigma that attached to children born outside matrimony.
Rhys felt something shift inside him, some final barrier falling away. He had spent fifteen years hiding, fifteen years deflecting, so many years pretending that the things that mattered most to him did not exist. And here, in this antechamber full of peers who would judge him regardless of what he said, he found that he no longer cared what they thought.
“They are my children,” he said quietly.
“The circumstances of their birth are a reflection of my failures, not theirs. I will not allow anyone to use that word as a weapon against them.”
“And what do you intend to do about it? You cannot legitimise them. The law does not permit…”
“I am aware of what the law permits. I am also aware that the law cannot compel me to be ashamed of people I cherish.”Rhys took a step toward Arthur, close enough that his next words would carry to every listener in the room.
“I intend to raise my daughters with every advantage my position can provide. I intend to ensure that they receive the education and the opportunities they deserve. I intend to introduce them to society when they are of age and dare anyone to treat them as less than they are.”
“Society will never accept…”
“Society will do whatever society chooses to do. I cannot control that. What I can control is my own behaviour, my own choices, my own refusal to pretend that my children do not exist.” He paused, letting the words settle.
“I have wasted so many years being what society expected me to be, a rake, a scandal, a source of entertainment for people who found my failures amusing. I have finished performing for your benefit. I have finished hiding the things that matter to protect a reputation that never deserved protection.”
The antechamber remained silent. Arthur’s expression had shifted from confident accusation to something more uncertain, the expression of a man who had expected an easy victory and found himself facing unexpected resistance.
“You will be ruined,” Arthur said finally.
“Socially, politically. No one of consequence will associate with a man who openly acknowledges such… irregularities.”
“Then I will learn who my true friends are.” Rhys turned from Arthur, surveying the assembled peers with deliberate attention.
“Any of you who find my situation unacceptable are welcome to avoid my company. Any of you who judge my daughters for circumstances beyond their control are welcome to your opinions. But any of you who attempt to harm them, to spread rumours about them, to use their existence as ammunition against me or against them, will find that I am a formidable enemy when the people I cherish are threatened.”
He walked out of the antechamber without waiting for a response. Behind him, the silence erupted into a chaos of whispered conversations and shocked exclamations that he did not bother to hear.
The confrontation was over. The truth was out. Whatever came next, he would face it as himself rather than as the performance he had been maintaining for half his life.
***
Benedict found him in his study surrounded by correspondence that had arrived in the wake of his parliamentary declaration. Some letters expressed support, tentative or enthusiastic depending on the writer. Others expressed condemnation, ranging from polite disappointment to outright hostility. A few were from people he had considered friends, informing him with varying degrees of regret that their association must come to an end.
“Well,” Benedict said, settling into his usual chair.
“You’ve certainly made the evening editions interesting.”
Rhys looked up from the letter he had been reading, a particularly vitriolic missive from a countess who had apparently taken personal offense at his refusal to be ashamed.
“The gossip sheets?”
“Three separate publications have already run stories.‘Duke’s Hidden Family Revealed’is the most popular headline, though ‘Trevane’s Shameful Secret’runs a close second.” Benedict paused. “There’s also a particularly creative piece suggesting that your daughters are actually the children of a foreign prince and that you’ve been hiding them as part of an international conspiracy.”
“That sounds exhausting. I can barely manage to be one person consistently. Maintaining an international conspiracy seems beyond my capabilities.”
“I told Serena you would say something like that. She’s quite proud of you, by the way.”
