Page 42 of A Highly Unlikely Duchess
Without a word, he pulled her toward him, his arm sliding firmly around her waist to anchor her against his side. She was dazed by his action, staring at him, but he paid her no mind. He was going to fix it.
“I should be rather upset by this interruption,” he said and straightened his coat. “I had hoped for a private moment. I had something to say to Lady Emily that I wished to say without an audience.” He glanced at Emily, and the look he gave her was warm and entirely constructed, and she held it without flinching, which he had known she would. “I merely required a moment alone with Lady Emily. I had intended to propose in private before making a formal announcement, as I wished to confess my love without… prying eyes.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Even the gossip seemed to stop breathing.
“We look forward to our marriage,” Theodore continued, his gaze drifting back to Julia, challenging her to breathe a word of protest. “It will, of course, take place very soon. Now, if you'll excuse us, I believe my fiancée requires a moment to compose herself.”
The shock was enough to finally break the spell. Julia, her face now a ghostly, defeated white, turned to the guests. “You heard His Grace,” she managed to choke out. “Leave. All of you. Now.”
The women finally retreated, their whispers already beginning before they even cleared the threshold.
As the heavy oak doors swung shut, Theodore’s gaze shifted toward the threshold, where he caught a fleeting glimpse of Lady Euphemia standing in the shadows. The girl looked completely disoriented, her face pale as she took in the wreckage of the scene. Julia let out a sharp, jagged sob of pure frustration before turning on the girl with a vitriol that made Theodore’s blood run cold.
“What are you doing here now?” Julia hissed, her voice trembling with irritation. “Is this what I asked of you? Why are you only appearing when the damage is done? Leave!”
Euphemia didn't offer a word in her defense. She simply lowered her head and hurried away into the corridor. Theodore watched her go, the final piece of the puzzle falling into place. He turned back to Emily, his heart sinking at the sight of her.
“I am sorry,” he murmured, the words feeling entirely inadequate. “This is all my fault.”
“It is,” Emily retorted, her voice brittle. She stepped back, breaking the contact of his arm around her waist. “I am ruined now, Your Grace. Telling those women you intend to marry me when you have no such intention only makes the fall harder. You have turned a scandal into a lie that will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“I will marry you,” Theodore announced definitively. “I have never in my life ruined a woman, and I do not plan on starting with you. My word is given.”
Emily stood frozen, her eyes wide as she searched his face for a sign of a cruel joke, but she found only a grim, absolute resolve. She looked as though she wanted to scream or weep, but instead, she simply turned and bolted for the door, vanishing into the hall.
Theodore started after her, his hand reaching out to stop her, but Julia stepped into his path. “You need to stay, Your Grace! You cannot follow her now. We must speak about this. Find a loophole. Remediate this immediately.”
Theodore stopped, but the look he leveled at his godmother was one of pure fury. He waited until the sound of Emily’s footsteps had completely faded before he spoke.
“You have done enough,” he said, the words cutting through the air like a blade. “You crossed the line, Lady Birks. You wanted to trap me in a scandal?” he scoffed. “My goodness. Are you certain you have my best interests at heart?”
“Theo, you are not seeing what I see,” she whispered, taking a step forward.
“I do not want to see you anymore,” he retorted. “I do not want you in my house or in my affairs.”
“You do not mean that,” she answered, mellowing.
“Lady Birks, I mean it with all of my heart.” He adjusted his cuffs. “I will be marrying Emily Pierce in a week. You will not be there to witness it.”
He walked to the door, feeling a pang in his chest.
“Theodore,” Julia said quietly behind him.
But he did not stop.
CHAPTER TEN
“Imust confess, Lady Euphemia, you are the last person I expected to call on me,” Emily said, her voice soft despite the hollow ache that had settled in her chest since the night of the ball.
As she gestured for her guest to take a seat in the drawing room, Emily’s mind drifted. It had been only two days since the scandal in the library, yet the world felt fundamentally altered. Theodore had moved with a terrifying, efficient speed, finalizing the arrangements with her father as if he were closing a business merger. They were to be married in five days. The house was a blur of seamstresses and hushed trunk-packing, but Emily felt as though she were merely drifting through her own life.
It was what she had wanted. Protection. A name that carried enough weight to shield Frederick from the world's cruelty. Theodore was the premier choice in the Ton, a man whose shadow was long enough to hide her secrets. But the reality of it felt wrong. Her original motives hadn't been pure, but thisforced union felt worse—a marriage built on the jagged remains of a trap.
She pushed the feeling down. There was no room for sentiment when Frederick’s future was on the line.
“Why have you come here, Lady Euphemia?” Emily asked gently, noting the way Euphemia’s hands trembled as she lifted her teacup. “Did you come to warn me again?”
Euphemia looked down at the swirling amber liquid, her pale face flushed. “I should have known,” she whispered. “When I went to Lady Birks estate to ask that my name be included on her list. I was so desperate, I didn't question her kindness. Why would she help me? I am the daughter of a Viscount who died drowning in debt.”
