Pembroke held up the papers. “And when pressed, one of Holloway’s stable contacts finally broke. Holloway was not merely assisting Lady Vivian. He was deeply involved. The—Your Grace, the sabotage began with him.”
Dorian went utterly still.
Pembroke unfolded one of the papers and handed it to him. “He had been quietly betting against Ashford for months through intermediaries. Heavy sums were used, enough to recover his losses after Tempest’s defeat and profit from your public humiliation.”
“He wanted Tempest to lose,” Anne said softly. “Is that it?”
“Yes,” Pembroke replied grimly. “But it went beyond money. He resented you, Your Grace.”
“Why?” Dorian asked.
Pembroke exhaled. “Because Ashford recovered. He invested when the estate was weak. He expected dependence and influence, but once Tempest began improving, once Her Grace became involved, once investors started returning… well, he began losing leverage. He wanted Ashford vulnerable again.”
Anne gasped in disbelief. She had done everything she could to help, and all the while, someone had been trying to make her fail.
“All this because he was losing leverage?”
“When their pride is involved, men can become dangerous.”
Pembroke looked at Dorian again, hesitating briefly at his unreadable expression, before continuing. “Holloway believed you wasted what your father built. He viewed you as reckless, and he believed Ashford should have been controlled by someone more practical.”
“So he smiled to our faces while actively trying to destroy everything.”
“Yes,” he said bluntly.
“And Lady Vivian?” Dorian asked.
“They used each other. Lady Vivian wanted your marriage broken. Holloway wanted Ashford weakened. Their goals aligned.”
Anne’s stomach turned.
Pembroke unfolded another letter, and this time he handed it to her. “We found correspondence between them. She fed him information about household tensions. He used stable contacts to interfere with Tempest’s training. Together, they spread rumors about your marriage to widen the fracture.”
Anne’s breath caught. None of it was a coincidence.
Dorian’s face had gone cold in a way that was almost unnerving. She looked at him carefully. His anger no longer felt explosive. It felt absolute, and yet she was still not afraid at all. She never could be. He was the kindest, most gentle man she had ever known, and his justified anger did not threaten her in the slightest.
After a long silence, he spoke.
“He believed I was weak. He was right.” His voice was calm but sharp enough to cut. “I was weak, just not in the way he believed. I gave them room to succeed because I allowed fear to rule me.Holloway and Lady Vivian may have orchestrated it all, but I let it happen because I failed to trust what stood in front of me.”
Anne stared at him, not knowing what to say.
Dorian turned back to Pembroke. “What happens now?”
“Holloway is finished; that much is clear. Once this reaches the investors, he will lose every ounce of credibility he has spent decades building. No one in racing will trust him again. No one respectable will publicly associate with him after this.”
Anne exhaled slowly. A man who had built his entire life on his reputation would lose everything if it were to collapse.
“Make sure every single person knows exactly why,” Dorian instructed.
“It will be done.”
Silence settled over the house after Pembroke left. No one seemed eager to speak. Too much had happened in too little time, and the weight of it lingered heavily in the air.
Lady Vivian was gone, Holloway had been exposed, and months of lies and manipulation had finally been dragged into the light. Yet Anne barely registered any of it. Her attention remained focused entirely on Dorian.
He looked exhausted, emotionally stripped bare in a way she had never seen before, and yet there was a steadiness about him that had not existed before. The uncertainty, the self-protective distance, the constant restraint—so much of it had finally fallen away.
