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Mr. Rose lost the battle to contain his emotions, and his face contorted with rage as he pointed an accusing finger at Dorian. “You murdered my son! I don’t care what he did. You had no right to take the law into your own hands!”

Dorian flinched at the accusation, the weight of his guilt pressing down on his shoulders. It was the simple truth—he had no right to play judge, jury, and executioner. And yet he had.

Mrs. Rose, her eyes red and swollen from crying, glared at Dorian with a mixture of grief and fury. “How dare you come into our home and tell us this now? After all these years, you finally have the decency to confess? You robbed me of my son, and now you expect us to understand?”

Each word felt like a dagger to Dorian’s heart. He could feel the pain and anger radiating from Mrs. Rose, and he knew that no amount of apologies could ever erase the harm he had caused.

Emily jumped to her feet, her fists clenched at her sides. “You killed our brother and then had the audacity to marry our sister? Was this all some sick game to you?”

Beatrice, usually the most level-headed of the siblings according to Patience, couldn’t contain her anger. “I know John had his faults, but he was our brother! You had no right to take his life, no matter what he did!”

Clarice’s and Frances’s faces were flushed with anger. Clarice declared, “We trusted you, Your Grace. We welcomed you into our family, and all this time, you were hiding the truth about our brother’s death!”

Anne, tears streaming down her face, looked at Dorian with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal. “I looked up to you, Your Grace. I thought you were a man of honor. But now I see that you’re nothing more than a liar and a murderer!”

The accusation hit Dorian like a physical blow. The guilt was overwhelming, threatening to crush him under its weight.

Patience stood in the middle of the room, her face torn in a helpless expression. “Please, everyone, let’s try to remain calm. I know this is a lot to process, but we must try to understand⁠—”

Mr. Rose cut her off, his voice shaking with fury. “Understand? What is there to understand, Patience? This man killed your brother and then married you! How can you defend him?”

Mrs. Rose, her voice hoarse from crying, turned her anger towards Patience. “And you! How long have you known about this? How could you keep such a secret from us, from your own family?”

The room descended into chaos, with the Rose family hurling accusations and insults at both Dorian and Patience. The air was thick with tension and raw emotion, as years of grief and betrayal came pouring out in a torrent of angry words. They could no longer stuff their negative feelings in a basket and pretend that all was well. And it seemed as if everything they’d been tamping down for more than a decade was bursting forth.

Dorian stood silently in the middle of the room, his head bowed, accepting the fury of the Rose family. He knew he deserved their anger, their hatred. He had taken the life of their son and brother, and no amount of explanation or justification could ever erase that fact.

A few minutes later, the angry, pained shouts calmed down, and Dorian opened his leather folder. “I do not deserve your forgiveness. And I’m not daring to ask for it. All I wanted to do was to tell you the truth. I do, however, want to tell you that I would give anything, everything to go back and to stop myself in that moment. To take control of my anger and to have compassion, like all of you have. I’d do anything to keep your son alive, Mr. and Mrs. Rose.”

Some of Mr. Rose’s anger fell from his face, and the man nodded solemnly. “I…er…I appreciate you saying so, Duke.”

Dorian exhaled sharply, expecting for the man to do something, but he only stared at him with great sadness and tears in his eyes. “Sir, if you would like to beat me, I will not fight back,” said Dorian.

Mr. Rose exhaled a long breath and stared at him for a while. Dorian stood, waiting for the man’s reaction, hoping he would take a swing at him.

“That is not needed, Sir,” said Mr. Rose. “I have no wish to beat you.”

Dorian nodded and shook his head. He did not deserve these people. He didn’t deserve Patience.

But he wouldn’t stop trying.

He retrieved a document he’d had his solicitors compose yesterday. “This is my will. Patience, you will get everything I own, and should you be pregnant…should there be an heir, he will inherit my title. An heiress will have a substantial inheritance and a dowry, which no one can touch but her when she is grown enough to decide to marry.”

“Dorian…” began Patience, but he didn’t let her finish.

He had to go through this and leave to face his destiny.

“However, in the event that my title is stripped from me in a few weeks or months, this document”—he raised another paper—“transfers everything, all assets except Rath Hall, which remains tied to the title, to your name, Patience. The state cannot touch it or take it from you, even if you’re no longer the duchess.”

Everyone opened their mouths to ask something, and Patience took a step towards him, worry on her face. But he wasn’t finished, and he raised the third document, which he laid on the tea table in the small space between stacks of books and a heap of fabric.

“And this document, Mr. Rose, is for you. I hereby free you of the clause of our marriage contract whereby Patience must spend one year with me. As of today, you are granted an estate nearby and an income of two thousand pounds, which, I believe, will be enough to repair your home and help you restore your tenant properties, as well as provide you a good income and a worthy dowry for your daughters should any of them wish to marry. Money will never return John to you, but I hope it will give you some relief in your circumstances.”

He handed the leather folder to Patience, who watched him with an open mouth.

He locked eyes with her amid the shocked stares of her family as the room fell into complete silence. He drank in her features for the last time. The softness of her pink lips, the delicate curve of her cheekbones, and the way her golden hair framed her beautiful face like a halo. Her blue eyes, usually so warm and inviting, were now filled with a mixture of pain, confusion, and love. It was a sight that would be forever etched into his memory, a bittersweet reminder of all that he had lost.

“Goodbye, the light of my life,” he said softly. “I will love you till my last breath.”