“Bianca?” He said, the second his eyes came to rest on her standing by the doorway to his study. Slowly, he rose to his feet. “How long have you been standing there?” A slight frown claimed his face. When she didn't respond, he made his way around his desk, and crossed the room, coming to a halt before her still form. “Bianca?” He touched her face, his eyes searching hers as concern creased his face.

Tears filled her eyes then, slowly making their way down her face. She was suddenly ashamed of what it was that had been done to her, and was suddenly crippled by fear at the thought of seeing his concern for her, change to repulsion or possibly anger. He would most likely want nothing to do with her now, she thought, crying.

“Bianca, are you alright?” He shook his head, brushing her tears away with his palm. “Do you suffer from yet another migraine? Shall I send for the Physician? Perhaps you would like a warm bath? Shall I give you a massage? Shal—”

“I was raped.” Trembling, she closed her eyes, ashamed. They were the three most difficult words she ever had to say. They were words powerful enough to change her entire life forever —to ruin her marriage, and her reputation.

Silence filled the room, and for a second, she truly believed she was alone. And perhaps she deserved to be alone? How could she ask Race to bear this shame with her, knowing the shame of his own identity he had had to bear his entire life? Surely she would be cruel to ask that of him.

Still, she could no longer bear the burden of the knowledge all alone. The memory of that evening haunted her every single night when she closed her eyes, and every second of her waking moments.

Her tears slipped rapidly down her cheeks, wetting her face, irrespective of the fact that she fought to keep them from falling with her closed eyelids.

“I shall have a bath made.” Race's shaky whisper drifted to her. The part of her that truly believed he had exited the room, was shocked.

Slowly, she tore her eyelids apart, her eyes barely settling on his face, before he turned from her and made his way out of the room.

Bianca maintained her position by the doorway for several minutes, her body trembling slightly. Confusion clouded her mind as she considered Race's reaction to her announcement —or lack of it.

She debated with herself —perhaps his suggestion of a bath was clear proof that he was repulsed by her, and sought the help of a bath to cleanse her of the filthiness of what had happened to her? Perhaps his suggested a bath because he did not know what else to say, and was simply desperate to get away from her... Far away? Why else would he suddenly turn from her?

Stifling a sob, she forced one foot after the other up the stairs to her bedchamber. After what seemed like a few minutes, a maid walked into the room with a bowl of hot water. Bianca watched her work as she poured it into the tub, and poured some cold water to get a perfect temperature.

By the time she was slipping out of her dress, she decided she needed a bath. Perhaps it would do nothing to ease the pain in her heart, but it would ease the weariness of her body.

She climbed into the tub and sank into the water, her eyelids pulling shut as she fought against her tears. She had been crying since Lady Beatrice's visit that afternoon, she was simply exhausted from crying.

She was so busy fighting her emotions, she didn't hear the door opening, until he spoke.

“You are excused.” His voice broke through her thoughts, forcing her eyelids apart, and causing her to sit upright in the tub.

Race stood holding the door wide open, until the maid exited the room. He closed the door behind her. Without a word, he crossed the room, Bianca's heart beat accelerating with every step that brought him closer to her.

Unable to speak, she sat still as he knelt beside the tub and turned to her.

“May I?” She thought she saw sadness in his eyes, but her view was quickly blocked, when he raised his hands up before him and rolled up his sleeves.

“Race,” She hitched a breath as the realisation of what it was he was trying to do, hit her.

Fresh tears springing to her eyes, she sat still as his hands gently moved up and down her back in circular movements. Only a second ago, she would have sworn he would want nothing to do with her, least of all, lay a hand on her. But here he was, giving her a bath.

Releasing a soft sigh, she stopped his hand the second it touched her cheek. Her eyelids snapped shut, her hand gently guiding his to her lips, where she pressed a kiss to his palm, ignoring the taste of soap.

He withdrew his hand then, as she held her eyelids tightly shut, afraid he would see how hurt she was by his decision to withdraw from her. But the thought had barely pass through her mind, when she felt something enter the tub with her.

Shocked, she tore her eyelids apart just in time to see him lean in close, his lips settling on hers, as his arms curled around her.

Her palms pressed against his wet shirt as he gently nudged her head to the side so that their kiss deepened.

“Race...” She breathed. He paused then, his eyes locking with hers. When she didn't find anger or repulsion in his eyes, the realisation brought tears to hers. “I— I'm sorry.”

A small frown settled on his face. “No, Bea,” He shook his head. “I'm the one who's sorry I wasn't there to protect you.”

“You're not furious?”

His eyes darkened with rage. “I am raging mad, Bianca,” He smoothened her cheek. “but I'm mad for you, not at you.”

Relief flooded her body, forcing her to fall forward into his arms. She pressed her lips to his throat, tears streaming down her cheeks as her fingers clawed around his wet white shirt. “I— I lo—love you.” The words barely formed on her lips.

Curling so that her body fit into his in the tub, she pressed her ear to his chest.

His arms settled around her. “I love you even more, Bea.” He kissed the top of her head, a soft sigh of satisfaction drifting from her lips. “Nothing will change that.”