Too Bruised to Stand, She Collapsed at the Ballroom—Until a Duke’s Gentle Hands Changed Her Fate
Chapter 11
The final hearing took place six months later.
Reginald confessed.
Not because he had found remorse.
Because the evidence against him was overwhelming.
Blackwood had attempted to flee the country.
He was caught at Dover.
The stolen properties were returned where possible.
Eleanor’s estate was restored completely.
The villagers celebrated when she returned.
But Eleanor did something unexpected.
She forgave no one publicly.
She simply rebuilt.
She repaired cottages.
Paid overdue wages.
Restored the village schoolroom.
And dismissed the steward who had assisted her uncle.
Julian watched her from the edge of the square.
“She has changed,” his valet remarked.
Julian smiled.
“No.”
“She seems stronger.”
“She always was.”
Eleanor approached.
“You are staring.”
“I am observing.”
“At me?”
“Always.”
She laughed.
“Your Grace, you are becoming shameless.”
“Only with you.”
She held out a letter.
“What is this?”
“My aunt wrote to me.”
“Bad news?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“She says London believes we are to marry.”
Julian raised an eyebrow.
“And what does London know?”
“Usually very little.”
He took the letter.
Then he removed another from his coat.
“I wrote to the Archbishop this morning.”
Eleanor stared.
“You did what?”
“I asked for a license.”
Her eyes widened.
“Julian…”
“I will wait if you wish.”
She took his hand.
“You have waited long enough.”
