This cannot happen. I cannot let him destroy Stephen in such a way. It is unthinkable!
“I see you are now understanding the full extent of the situation.” Lord Chilmond calmly pulled out the stool she had tripped on and sat down, facing her back. She glanced over her shoulder, glaring at him and recoiling back when he came too near. “If you marry me, Dorothy, your name will be safe.”
“What of his?” she whispered.
“Oh, I see.” He smiled, even more maliciously now. The more she stared at him, the more she wondered how she could have ever found anything handsome in his face at all. There was this wicked streak in him that was sickening. “You think only of him, do you, in your time of need? You wish to protecthimfrom scandal?”
“Would you keep his name out of the scandal sheets?” Dorothy asked in a panic.
I cannot do this. How can I possibly marry him?
She shuddered at the mere thought, staring at him in disgust, but what other choice did she have? For Stephen’s sake, surely, she had to do it, or he would be ruined.
She closed her eyes, thinking of the way Stephen had pulled back from her after their one stolen kiss. He’d gone back to talking about finding the perfect Duchess. It mattered to him what people thought of him.
I have no choice.
“Think on it.” Lord Chilmond leaned toward her, looking even more pleased with himself. “Your name in tatters, your reputation ruined. You would never marry. Good God, I imagine even your brother’s reputation would be tarnished by association. The shine, like dulled silver, would be tarnished. Can you imagine that? Dragging your brother down along with you and your… your lover,” he said in a scornful tone.
“He is not my lover.”
“Based on what I saw last night, he could be anything to you.” His voice took on a new depth that she found quite terrifying.
She had to get away, had to escape him, somehow. She stood and pushed him back, jerking his shoulder in such a way that she could run from him.
“Dorothy! Do not run away from me. If you do, I shall speak of what I saw.”
Dorothy halted in the middle of the room, not knowing what else to do. Her chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. She stared into the fireplace, not moving an inch.
“Give me your answer,” Lord Chilmond hissed, standing so close behind her that the sound was like the terrifying whisper of a snake in her ear. She recoiled from him. “Give it!” he demanded.
Suddenly, the library door swung open. It banged against the wall, and Dorothy whipped her head around as Lord Chilmond scarcely took a step back from her.
In the doorway stood a red-faced Stephen.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
“Get away from her.” Stephen marched into the room and grabbed the door, holding it wide open. “Lord Chilmond, I gave you an order to step back from her.”
Yet, it was as if his words had no effect on the room.
Lord Chilmond stood possessively behind Dorothy’s shoulder. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling as she blinked madly. Even at this distance across the room, Stephen could see the tears that she was desperately trying to suppress.
What has happened?
“Are you deaf?” he called to Lord Chilmond and then stalked across the library toward her. “I told you to get away from her. Leave this room, at once.”
“I’m afraid you’re a little late to talk to me and my betrothed in this manner.”
“Betrothed?” Stephen spluttered.
He acted out of instinct, without really thinking of what he was doing. When Dorothy gasped, the tears rolling down her cheeks, he reached for her chin with both hands and softly lifted it, urging her to look him in the eye. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs.
Dorothy closed her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to look at him, and one of her hands curled around his wrist. “Don’t,” she whispered.
What does she mean by that?
“You cannot marry him,” Stephen said in a rush. “He’s—”
