“She will not marry you,” Stephen snapped. He had an idea now, one that was filling his mind, and he had to take this chance. He refused to be the man who sat there in the pews of a church, watching Dorothy marry this sorry excuse for a viscount.
“Stephen, please,” Dorothy murmured, her voice weak. “Your name… your reputation…”
Stephen felt sick as he heard her words. Not once did she mention her own name or reputation, for, plainly, that was not what bothered her. She thought of only him and was putting him first.
Do not do this. Do not put me above yourself.
Yet, it was a testament to Dorothy’s heart. Even after he had rejected her the night before, saying he could not marry her, she still put him first.
“Have you forgotten the threat I have just made, Your Grace?” Lord Chilmond said quietly, clearly struggling to control his own temper. “Believe me, it will be a danger to you if you do not remember it.”
“I am simply taking the time to consider what you have said.” Stephen turned to face him. “You threaten us with a scandal in the papers, then let me make a threat of my own.”
For the first time, Lord Chilmond’s confident expression slipped. A small crease appeared between his brows.
“Stephen.” Dorothy stepped toward Stephen and pulled at his arm. “Be careful.”
Stephen raised a hand and placed it over hers, but she moved her hand quickly, not letting him touch her for long.
“How would the ton feel if they discovered that you scarcely have a shilling left to your name, Lord Chilmond?” Stephen watched as Lord Chilmond’s self-satisfied smile vanished completely. An unblinking glare replaced that expression. “Hmm?” Stephen taunted. “How would you feel to see your name in those same scandal sheets, the viscount who has gambled away his father’s entire fortune?”
“Be quiet.” Lord Chilmond’s words simply let Stephen know he was onto a winner.
“I see no reason to be quiet. In fact, maybe I should go to London and stand in the middle of Covent Garden, shouting about your disgrace and your bankruptcy,” Stephen said loudly. Lord Chilmond backed up a step as if he had been kicked in the chest. “Do you even have your estate anymore, or have you sold that to recoup your losses? How many creditors in London know your name? Will you soon find yourself in a debtors’ prison if you do not marry a lady with a good dowry, such as Dorothy?”
“My name would recover,” Lord Chilmond said harshly. “Yours would not.”
“Do you want to wager on that?” Stephen countered. “For I believe a duke can survive anything better than a viscount when it comes to scandal.”
“Stephen, please!” Dorothy pulled at his arm again.
“No, no. I’ve had enough.” Stephen stepped toward Lord Chilmond, and her hand fell from his arm. “I’ll make this threat plain. You have no claim to Dorothy’s hand whatsoever. Make such a claim, so much as approach Allan for his blessing, and I will tell everyone who cares to hear that you have gambled away your entire fortune, that you are an embarrassment to your mother. Do you understand?”
For the first time, Lord Chilmond looked sick. His lips opened and closed as he scrambled for words. He continued to glare at Stephen unblinkingly.
“Leave.” Stephen gestured toward the door.
Lord Chilmond stood there, not moving a muscle.
“I said, leave!” Stephen barked loudly this time, gesturing with the flat of his palm to the door.
Slowly, Lord Chilmond backed up. He moved to the door, his hands balled into fists and shaking at his sides as if he could not believe his perfect plan had unraveled so much before him. Stephen followed after him, making sure he was completely out of the room.
Lord Chilmond hesitated in the doorway for a second, glancing back at Dorothy.
“Do not so much as look at her,” Stephen growled in warning. “You are not worthy of her.”
Lord Chilmond sneered at him but said nothing, stepping out of the room. Stephen slammed the door shut behind him, planting both palms on it as he heard the sound echo in the library.
For a minute, there were no other sounds in the library other than Stephen’s heavy breaths and Dorothy’s gasps.
“Stephen,” Dorothy murmured, eventually, making him raise his head and turn from the door. “What have you done?” She wiped her cheeks with the sleeves of her gown. “You have made him quite our enemy. Lord knows what will happen now. He’ll come after you.”
“Dorothy, please.” Stephen walked toward her.
She took a step back, holding out a hand and warning him not to come any closer. It made his chest ache to see her still keeping some distance between them after everything that had happened.
Stephen was consumed with a wish to throw himself to his knees in front of her, to beg for her forgiveness, to tell her that there would be no scandal, for he would marry her. Seeing Lord Chilmond demanding to marry her had made him realize that he couldn’t imagine anyone marrying her—anyone buthim.
