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“Can I please just tell him myself?” I ask but Mason is walking toward me, taking me by the hand, and pulling me close, away from the archduke. Benedict clears his throat.
“She’s my fiancee—“ Benedict says, smirking at the same time as Noah lies through his teeth, turning to look at Mason directly.
“She’s carrying your child, the possible heir to the ducal throne,” Noah says, and there is a silence in the room, so big that it nearly fills the whole space.
From what little I can see of the archduke’s face, he has gone gray and pale.
And behind me, there’s a thud. I turn and look. Mrs. Harris has fallen to the floor, her mouth open, eyes wide as she stares at us all.
And beyond her, the door to the study is open. And the hallway is filled, twenty people deep, with the household servants.
Who have just heard and witnessed, all of this.
Oh, my god. I’m finished.
