Updated Apr 18, 2026 • ~13 min read
Chapter 22: Cordelia’s Lies Exposed
Emmeline
The day after the court rules their marriage valid, Emmy wakes in the Duke’s bed—actually his bed where they finally consummated their marriage the previous evening after four months of waiting and fear and carefully maintained distance—and she’s still processing that they’re actually married now in every sense, that the Duke finally overcame his terror enough to be fully intimate with her, that their marriage survived Cordelia’s assault and is now stronger than ever.
The Duke is already awake beside her—propped on one elbow watching Emmy with an expression that’s softer than she’s ever seen from him, less guarded, more openly affectionate—and when their eyes meet he smiles in a way that makes Emmy’s heart do complicated things in her chest.
“Good morning, wife,” the Duke says, and there’s something possessive and satisfied in how he says it.
“Good morning, husband,” Emmy responds, still getting used to the reality of their completed marriage. “You look pleased with yourself.”
“I am pleased,” the Duke confirms. “With myself for finally overcoming my fear. With you for being patient enough to wait. With us for building something real despite every obstacle. I’m very pleased.”
Emmy is about to respond when there’s urgent knocking at the Duke’s chamber door, and Mrs. Winters’ voice calls from the corridor with clear agitation.
“Your Grace! Your Graces! I apologize for the interruption, but there’s an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention.”
The Duke throws on a dressing gown and opens the door enough to speak with Mrs. Winters while Emmy pulls the sheets higher and tries not to die of embarrassment at being found in the Duke’s bed by the housekeeper.
“What’s so urgent?” the Duke asks.
“Lady Margaret is here with Mr. Pemberton,” Mrs. Winters explains. “They say they have critical information about Lady Cordelia that can’t wait. Something about her petition and lies being exposed.”
The Duke glances back at Emmy with raised eyebrows, and Emmy nods because whatever information Lady Margaret and their solicitor have discovered is clearly important enough to warrant interrupting their morning after.
They dress quickly and make their way downstairs to find Lady Margaret and Mr. Pemberton waiting in the drawing room looking simultaneously excited and furious, and when they see Emmy and the Duke enter Lady Margaret stands with barely contained energy.
“You won’t believe what we discovered,” Lady Margaret says without preamble. “Or perhaps you will, knowing Cordelia. But Sebastian—Emmy—she’s been lying about everything. The entire annulment petition was built on fabricated evidence and bribed testimony. And now we have proof.”
“What kind of proof?” the Duke asks, settling into a chair and pulling Emmy down beside him with casual possessiveness that suggests their new intimacy has changed more than just their physical relationship.
“After the court ruled yesterday, one of Cordelia’s servants came forward,” Mr. Pemberton explains, opening his case to remove a sheaf of papers. “A maid named JANE who was working for Lady Cordelia but grew disgusted by what she was being asked to do. She’s provided sworn testimony about Cordelia’s scheme—including evidence that fundamentally changes our understanding of the annulment petition.”
“What kind of evidence?” Emmy asks, leaning forward with growing curiosity.
“Letters,” Lady Margaret says with grim satisfaction. “Dozens of letters between Cordelia and her confidantes. Letters where she explicitly admits that she wants Sebastian back, that she regrets breaking their engagement, that she’s trying to destroy your marriage so she can have another chance with him. Letters where she outlines her plan to file for annulment and bribe your servants for damaging testimony. Letters that prove beyond any doubt that her petition was never about concern for your welfare—it was pure vindictive manipulation designed to force Sebastian back into her life.”
The Duke’s expression goes cold with fury, and Emmy sees his hands clench into fists at the revelation that Cordelia’s assault on their marriage was even more calculated and malicious than they suspected.
“She admitted all of this in writing?” the Duke asks with dangerous quiet.
“She’s not very clever about covering her tracks,” Mr. Pemberton observes. “These letters to friends—women she apparently trusted to keep her confidence—lay out her entire scheme. Including the fact that she’s been planning this since she first heard about your marriage in January. She’s been building her case for months, Your Grace. Bribing servants, gathering evidence, manipulating testimony. All with the explicit goal of forcing an annulment so she could pursue you again.”
“But the engagement to poor Lord Pemberton,” Lady Margaret adds with disgust. “Turns out that was fabricated too. She’s not engaged. She’s been lying about having other romantic prospects to make herself seem less desperate. In reality, she’s been fixated on Sebastian since she heard he remarried. Obsessed with getting him back.”
Emmy feels something cold settle in her stomach at realizing how extensively Cordelia planned her assault, how much time and effort she invested in trying to destroy Emmy’s marriage.
“What else did this maid provide?” the Duke asks.
“Testimony about bribes,” Mr. Pemberton says, shuffling through his papers. “Cordelia paid your former footman THOMAS five hundred pounds to testify that you and the Duchess never spoke in private, that you maintained complete separation. She paid your lady’s maid SARAH two hundred pounds to report on whether you shared chambers. She attempted to bribe Mrs. Winters for a thousand pounds to testify about the locked connecting door and separate sleeping arrangements.”
“Mrs. Winters refused,” the Duke observes, making it a statement rather than a question.
“Vehemently,” Mr. Pemberton confirms. “And reported the attempted bribery to me, which is part of how we started investigating Cordelia’s methods. But not all your servants were as loyal. Several accepted her money and provided the testimony she used in her petition.”
The Duke’s fury is visible now—not the cold controlled anger Emmy is used to seeing but actual rage at having his household infiltrated and his marriage threatened through such calculated manipulation.
“I want those servants dismissed,” the Duke says flatly. “Anyone who accepted Cordelia’s bribes. I won’t have people in my household who can be bought to betray me.”
“Already arranged, Your Grace,” Mr. Pemberton assures him. “Mrs. Winters has identified all the staff who took Cordelia’s money and they’ve been terminated with appropriate references noting disloyalty. You’ll need to hire replacements, but your household is no longer compromised.”
“Good,” the Duke says with satisfaction. “What happens to Cordelia now? Can we bring charges against her for filing fraudulent petition?”
“Better than that,” Lady Margaret says with vicious pleasure. “We can destroy her socially. These letters—once they become public—will ruin her reputation completely. Everyone will know she filed a fraudulent annulment petition out of jealous obsession with her former fiancé. Everyone will know she lied and bribed and manipulated to try destroying a legitimate marriage. She’ll be a social pariah.”
“Will the letters become public?” Emmy asks, because destroying Cordelia sounds satisfying but also potentially messy.
“That’s your decision,” Mr. Pemberton says, looking at the Duke. “We can file charges for fraud, perjury, bribery. We can release the letters to society and let gossip do our work. We can confront Cordelia privately and demand she cease all interference. Or we can do nothing—you won your case, your marriage is valid, you could simply move forward and leave Cordelia to her own misery.”
The Duke is quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with what response is appropriate, and Emmy watches him struggle between desire for revenge and reluctance to create more scandal.
“What do you want to do?” Emmy asks quietly. “She tried to destroy us. You’re entitled to consequences for that.”
“I want her to leave us alone,” the Duke says finally. “Permanently. I don’t care about revenge or public humiliation. I just want assurance that she won’t try this again.”
“Then let me handle it,” Lady Margaret suggests with a sharp smile. “I’ll confront Cordelia privately. Show her the evidence we have. Make it clear that if she ever interferes with your marriage again—if she so much as mentions either of you in public—we’ll release these letters and destroy her completely. Fear of exposure should be sufficient to keep her in line.”
“Do it,” the Duke agrees. “But Margaret—I want your word that this ends here. No escalating drama. No public scandals. Just a quiet threat that ensures she leaves us alone going forward.”
“You have my word,” Lady Margaret promises. “Though honestly, Sebastian, letting me ruin her publicly would be deeply satisfying. She deserves to be humiliated for what she tried to do.”
“Maybe,” the Duke concedes. “But creating that kind of scandal also damages Emmy and me. I’d rather have peace than revenge.”
Emmy squeezes the Duke’s hand in silent approval because his choice of peace over revenge shows growth she didn’t expect, shows him prioritizing their marriage over his hurt feelings about Cordelia’s betrayal.
“There’s one more thing,” Mr. Pemberton says, pulling out a final document. “The maid Jane who came forward—she’s requesting asylum in your household. She’s terrified of Cordelia’s retaliation for betraying her confidence. I know you’re dismissing disloyal servants, but Jane was actually working to protect your marriage by exposing Cordelia’s scheme. She deserves consideration.”
“Hire her,” the Duke says without hesitation. “Whatever position she’s qualified for. And make sure she understands she has my protection from Cordelia’s retaliation. Anyone who helped us deserves our loyalty in return.”
“Very good, Your Grace,” Mr. Pemberton says, making notes. “I’ll arrange everything.”
After Lady Margaret and Mr. Pemberton leave to confront Cordelia with their evidence, Emmy and the Duke sit together in the drawing room processing everything they’ve learned about how extensively Cordelia planned her assault on their marriage.
“She really wanted you back,” Emmy observes. “Badly enough to spend months planning and hundreds of pounds bribing servants. That’s… that’s obsessive.”
“That’s Cordelia,” the Duke says with tired disgust. “She’s always been unable to tolerate losing. When she broke our engagement, it was because she thought she could do better. When she realized she couldn’t—when she became a widow with no real prospects—suddenly I became appealing again. This was never about love. It was about her ego.”
“I’m sorry you have to deal with her,” Emmy says. “I’m sorry your past keeps causing problems in our present.”
“My past created our present,” the Duke observes. “If Cordelia hadn’t broken our engagement, I wouldn’t have been free to marry Caroline. If Caroline hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have married you. As much as I hate what Cordelia did, I can’t entirely regret how it led me to where I am now.”
Emmy’s chest aches at the unexpected sweetness of that sentiment, and she leans against the Duke’s shoulder while both of them recover from the exhausting revelation of Cordelia’s extensive scheme.
“At least it’s over now,” Emmy says hopefully. “The annulment petition is denied. Cordelia’s lies are exposed. Our marriage is valid and consummated. We can finally just… exist. Without constant threats and fear.”
“We can exist,” the Duke agrees, pulling Emmy closer. “Together. Actually married. Actually happy. Despite everything Cordelia tried to destroy.”
They spend the rest of the day quietly together—no social obligations, no court appearances, no dramatic revelations—just enjoying being newly intimate and finally secure in their marriage without external threats hanging over them.
Lady Margaret returns that evening with a report of her confrontation with Cordelia, and her satisfied expression suggests it went exactly as planned.
“She’s furious but terrified,” Lady Margaret reports. “When I showed her the letters and explained what we have on her, she went absolutely pale. Tried to bluster at first—claimed the letters were taken out of context—but when I made it clear we have sworn testimony from Jane corroborating everything, she realized she’s caught. She’s agreed to leave London immediately, retreat to her country estate, and cease all contact with either of you. She knows that one word from us and she’s socially ruined forever.”
“Good,” the Duke says with satisfaction. “Thank you for handling it, Margaret.”
“It was deeply satisfying,” Lady Margaret admits with a grin. “Watching her realize she’d lost completely. That her scheme failed and now she’s the one facing consequences. I may have enjoyed it more than was strictly appropriate.”
“You’re entitled to enjoy consequences for someone who tried to destroy your brother’s marriage,” Emmy points out.
“True,” Lady Margaret agrees. “And Emmy, I want to say—I’m sorry I didn’t see through Cordelia’s manipulation earlier. I should have warned you she was dangerous. Should have protected you better from her schemes.”
“You helped us win when it mattered,” Emmy responds. “That’s what counts.”
After Lady Margaret leaves, Emmy and the Duke return to his chambers—their chambers now, since Emmy has officially moved all her belongings from her separate rooms into the Duke’s suite—and when they’re finally alone again the Duke pulls Emmy into his arms with surprising tenderness.
“It’s really over,” the Duke says, sounding almost disbelieving. “Cordelia is gone. The annulment is denied. Our marriage is safe. We actually survived all of this.”
“We did better than survive,” Emmy corrects. “We built something real. Something worth fighting for. Something Cordelia couldn’t destroy no matter how hard she tried.”
The Duke kisses Emmy—slow and deep and filled with love instead of just want—and when they finally separate he’s looking at her with an expression that’s completely unguarded for the first time since they married.
“I love you,” the Duke says. “Completely. Without reservation. Without fear holding me back. Just… love. Pure and simple and real.”
“I love you too,” Emmy responds. “However long it took us to get here, it was worth it.”
They fall into bed together—not desperate or fearful like their first time, but comfortable and confident and deeply connected—and Emmy thinks about how far they’ve come from the desperate Christmas Eve when she begged the Duke for mercy and he offered a loveless marriage instead.
They’ve built something real.
Against all odds.
Despite fear and grief and vindictive interference.
They’ve created actual love.
And Cordelia’s failed attempt to destroy them just proved how strong that love really is.
Unbreakable.
Even when tested.
Even when threatened.
Even when everything seemed impossible.
They survived.
Together.
And that’s everything Emmy hoped for when she promised her dying father she wouldn’t give up on the Duke.
However long it took.
They made it.
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